I came from the waves of Lake Keesus,

where seaweed tickled the bottom of my feet as I swam to shore.

I came from a turf soccer field,

boundary lines that trapped me in a sport I hated.

I came from hand-me-downs,

forced to live a life that was my sister’s.

I am from my mother’s green eyes,

irises that look at me with affection.

I am from a Polish family that considers itself

Greek when Giannis Antetokounmpo walks onto the court.

I am from the wooden pew that creaks when I sit in the wrong spot,

a reminder that my purpose in life is to serve others.

I will be from The Red Cross,

where my hands will heal disaster-stricken places.

I will be from a new family,

a daughter with seaweed green irises that ripple like Lake Keesus.

I will be from photos, trophies, and experiences,

reminders of who I was.