The Lucky Charm Poem by Efren Petalver Carranza

Winds of Change

"Criticism, like rain, should be gentle enough to nourish a man's growth without destroying his roots." Frank Howard Clark, Screenwriter (1888-1962)

Neither had I thought nor had I dreamed to reach America from the land that raised my youth: chasing flocks of carabao, fishing tilapia, or picking fresh vegetables for food. And, none that I wished more than just enough to live by in a day, for I knew not to beg - neither their pity nor their scorn upon my innocence. As motherless, I learned to live by of what I got: patched pants, torn shirts, and without centavo to go to school. Yet, all of those hard days, I survived and reached America by change of fate, or the "Wheel of Fortune" had spun favorably upon mine.

Today, I still look up to the same culture of dusk but full of wonders: How is life for me if not for my father who brought me in to this ‘Land of Opportunity'? And I heartily thank God for lengthening my father's life long enough to move me away from Bani-sky to the dome of America, wherein life is still yet a challenge but easier to have what we desire.
Yes, those childhood experiences of mine - truly in return - I see the kindest and nicest man in me; though, they say: "nice people always finish last, " but I am already at the top (not in a manner of social hierarchy) but living far better from the land where I started at the bottom.

And yes! This is America -that granted me the four freedoms to be its citizen and to be educated enough to compete in the workforce - where I hurdled continuously for nearly forty years. And still! These empty hands remained open with full hope to be re-filled by that struck of luck.