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it was at least legible. What I should have written down was, “This isn’t fair.” I questioned
myself many times wondering if my shaky hand was because of the men that intimidated me or
because there was a possibility I’d be taken away from my home. All four men started to pen
something on their papers. In what seemed like ten minutes, there was complete silence. My loud
breathing started again.

         “Ms. Karolina Cieslak,” one of the men said.
         “Yes, sir.”
         I wanted to reply, “May I help you?” I was overwhelmed with fear, but there was also
anger. I didn’t know what was about to unfold, but I was mad that these men in front of me were
going to be the deciding factor if I could get to stay home.
         “Congratulations on being a United States citizen.”
         “Ha!” My eyes grew wide, and my mouth formed the letter O. At that moment, I let all
the fear and anger go and welcomed relief. I couldn’t change the fact that I had to go through this
process, but I was genuinely relieved that it had come to an end. From that moment on, I wasn’t
going to be looked at as an outsider or an “illegal” mooching off the government’s money, even
though that was far from the truth.
         I thanked the four men and shook their hands. I was led out of the office with two official
signed sheets of paper in my hand. I stood before the large crowd and paused. I looked down at
the two documents and started to cry. Then, I looked out into the crowd of hopefuls. That was it.
I was finally home free.

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