By Showanna H.
Grade 6, Michigan
Country of Origin: Kenya

When I came to America, I nearly fainted. I had never seen anything like it. My family moved to a farm in Massachusetts. There were tall yellow stalks of wheat, and big, red barns. My parents wanted to raise money by selling eggs and milk and stuff. One day, I was exploring the farm with my little brother, Gantu. We came across a large, four-legged animal with udders on its belly. I immediately recognized it as a cow. Back in Kenya, cows were like buffalos were to the Native Indians here. We used every part of their bodies for our life, and worshipped and prayed for them. Out of instinct, I dropped to my knees, clasped my hands together and prayed for the cow. And the cow went 'MOO!' American cows are different.

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