One night during the bombings, as she relayed to me years later, she refused to take her mattress down to the basement. She told her mother, “If I’m going to die, I’m going to die here. I’m not going to die in a basement, I’m staying right here.”

The woman had helped her at a time when Skrijelj felt scared and alone. The woman’s gift assured Skrijelj that she didn’t have to be alone, and that she wasn’t alone in the immigrant experience.

I realize then that Zhang my mother is a completely different person from Zhang the professional, the public speaker. Though I catch glimpses of her argumentative skills when we fight at home, she transforms completely before an audience.

Visiting her grandmother’s hometown brought up many happy memories for my mom. What did it mean for my mom to leave so much behind?

Shortly after arriving and receiving treatment, Al-Suhail told his mother he was cured. He lied. Now every time he calls his mother, she greets him with the same question: “Are you sure you’re cancer free?” she asks, “because I don’t believe you anymore.”

Eugene Peba made it to America. Now he’s waiting to hear if he can stay.

He traveled with a suitcase and handbag filled with clothes, pictures and his laptop to Chicago where he was received by his uncle. An officer welcomed him, saying, “you’ve done more for the United States than most people have.”