I remember the excitement of the ocean, the sand between my toes, and the sounds that filled the air. Many
of my childhood memories are of our Colorado home in the woods, nestled between a river and a pond. Like
Moana, I was drawn to water, soothed by it, maybe even called to it. In Puerto Rico, we often went to the
beach as a family. We learned to boogie board, built sandcastles, buried each other in the sand, and played in
the waves. The birds were plentiful, the sun seemed to be smiling, and the sun's rays added richness to my
brown skin; the water was clear and inviting. It felt like joy in motion.
hen I was 10 years old, I lived with my family in Puerto Rico. I was born in Colorado
and spent my first eight years in a small mountain town. At eight, we moved from the
crisp, dry mountains of Colorado to the lush, humid shores of Puerto Rico for my
dad's job. Gone were the pine trees and snow; in their place were mango trees with
fresh fruit, rainforests, and warm ocean waves. It felt like stepping into another world.
A place of curiosity, magic, and wonder!
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