Across the way
My toes crinkle in the warm sand as if to grasp it before it is washed away forever. I feel so exceptionally small as I stand alongside the North Atlantic Ocean. I wonder what is beyond the vast horizon. What lies beyond what my eyes can see?
Maybe across the wide sea of undiscovered waters is a little boy who also has sand clutched between his preadolescent toes. His name could be James, named after his father. James has pasty skin, painted with light brown freckles that reside along the bridge of his nose and spread across his puffy cheeks. His eyes are pale blue, as captivating as the sky after an influential storm. He is his parents pride and joy, alongside his other four siblings who share the same distinct physical features. He is merely seven years old, a few years into grade school. He has been accustomed to the beautiful land of Ireland ever since the first day he opened up his pale blue eyes. He stands along the Irish coast, powerful waves crash below him, the waters as blue as his eyes. Lands of green stretch alongside him, the grass dancing to the beat of the mighty wind that lingers in the air. As he stares into the mysterious ocean, he wonders what the world consists of as he knows nothing else but his Irish descent.
Maybe across the ocean is a faithful mother who resides in the country of Liberia. Her name could be Adah, which means beautiful ornament, originating from the Hebrew language. She is indeed beautiful, but she has always preferred her strength over her beauty. She sips on a cold tea, her arm muscles outlined in the dark complexion of her skin as she slowly brings the tea cup to her plump lips. Her black braided hair falls down her spine and she is wearing a brightly colored dress that flows gracefully, allowing moving shadows to dance on her knees. She stands alongside the coast of Western Africa in hopes that one day soon her two daughters may gain the same freedom and rights that a woman across the way has.
It is possible that miles upon miles below where I stand is a young couple, deeply in love, dancing to music on a Venezuelan beach. His hands are gently cradling her hips, swaying to the beat of the drums while twinkling lights shine above their unwavering heads. As they look into each other's eyes they forget for a moment that there is anyone else on that beach with them. Their whole world shrank to the ground beneath their feet.
Through the rough waters and calm seas, a vast expanse from where I stand, there may be an old man who is based on the coast of Portugal. His name is Filipe, and he is an incredibly gifted artist. He once traveled around the world painting landscapes of each place that touched his soul, which seemed to be many. But now, he seldom travels. He spends his time painting portraits of his late wife, waiting patiently for the day in which he will be reunited with her once more. His hair is as grey as the day it was when his beloved passed. His veiny hands shake with agony from all the years of cradling his paintbrush but that doesn't stop him from continuously painting his wife's hazel eyes to perfection. He is undeniably well travelled but his favorite place in the world is Mendoza, Argentina. This is where he met his wife back in 1983. They fell in love instantly and a few years later they had their first and only child.
She could live in Spain, far from where I stand. Her name is Camilla. She was born in Argentina, grew up in Portugal and now lives on the coast of Spain teaching history as an elementary school teacher. She has a passion for teaching and paving the way for the children of our future. She is short and petite with black curly hair that frequently smells of coconuts. Her untamed locks imitate her energetic personality. She has bright almond-shaped eyes, similar to the ones in her fathers paintings. She frequently considers moving to Sydney, Australia to try her hand at surfing. She has her whole life ahead of her.
Maybe one day, young James will meet his soulmate as he is backpacking through Southeast Asia. She will be bold and courageous. She will be a rare woman, one who does what they please, without the approval or acceptance of others. She will be outspoken, passionate, and wild. She will light up Jame’s world in an instant, breaking through all his comfort zones. He will grow through her presence, become a better version of himself simply by being near her. James' love will be named Maria. Maria has an alluring smile and a heart-shaped birthmark aligned on her collarbone. Everytime James closes his eyes he will see that birthmark and be soothed by its being. Maria is a result of two people who fell in love on a Venezuelan beach.
If Camilla finds herself on the extraordinary coast of Australia she may run into two sisters who were born and raised in Liberia. They will quickly become close friends. These sisters will share with Camilla the story about how their fearless mother moved them across the world for hopes of a better life as independent women. Their names will be Mandisa and Lerato and like their mother, they will be exceptionally beautiful, but most importantly, they will be strong. They both will have a surprising knack for surfing and will train Camilla to become as skilled at conquering the ocean as they are.
I stand on the northern east coast of the United States of America, my toes still clutching the now soggy sand. I feel so small yet so free. I do not know if these people exist, but I am sure of these places. It is only a matter of time before I go across the way and find out for myself exactly who and what the world has to offer.