Gratitude

My life was not easy. It’s different now, and I thank God for that.

I grew up in the Dominican Republic countryside. My mother was just 16 when I was born and raised me and my brothers and sisters by herself. We had animals, a garden, but often there was not enough to eat. We would go out into the forest to find whatever we could. A mango, sometimes that was all we had.

I didn’t go to school, it was too far away. I helped with the animals, with the garden. If my mother needed something done, we did it. My brothers and sister and I didn’t complain.

In 1973, my mother moved us all to the city. I was 12 years old by then. I sold newspapers on the street, or bread, or sweets, whatever we could to make money. But it was dangerous there. There had just been an election, and young people were being killed. There were gangs on the street. When a boy tried to beat me up, my oldest brother protected me. My mother moved us all back to the country after that.

I became a firefighter in 1982. I nearly died three times.

Once, there was a fire on a ship. I went on board to fight the flames with two others, which is always how we did it, to keep each other safe. As soon as we went below, the ship exploded. I looked around and was suddenly alone. The two men with me jumped into the water and left me behind. I could feel the fire burning me. Thank God, another firefighter came and got me out.

Later I became a fire investigator for the government, but there was a lot of corruption. My mother had always taught me to be honest, to tell the truth. But that was hard to do without getting in trouble. So I decided to leave.

I came to the U.S. in 2008, moved to Vermont a few months later, and got a job at UVM Medical Center. I couldn’t believe how friendly everyone was. Everybody was saying ‘hi’ to me. And after everything I’d been through in my life, I was so grateful. I try to do the same for everyone I meet here.