When we woke up, it was snowing. It continued to snow all day. Moy and Papa went out now and then to clear the path in front of our door, but it was useless. More snow kept falling, burying the cars out front.

I find the snow less beautiful now, messy even. When so much of it is falling, it looks like it can be dangerous, like it could cave in the roof above our heads.

SUNDAY, DECEMBER 31

Papa took us to a laundromat to wash our clothes and the house linen in a machine so we wouldn’t carry the dirt of an old year into a new one.

What an indulgence not to have to wash our clothes by hand! This was a great relief because I worried about washing my new heavy clothes myself.

In the afternoon, we made our soup joumou. The house smelled like Granmè Melina’s cooking shed on New Year’s Eve.

MONDAY, JANUARY 1, 2001

It’s a new year in our new life. As we sat around the kitchen table, each one of us quietly enjoying our soup, I thought of the different meanings of the day. Of course it is the start of a whole new period, but it is also a great anniversary for us Haitians—Haitian Independence Day. One hundred and ninety-seven years ago, our ancestors had declared our small island a free nation.

LATER

Papa will return to work tomorrow, and Moy and I will be starting school.

Papa said that I would be in a special class for students just like me, who had recently come from Haiti and did not yet speak English. The lessons would be in Creole.

Moy will start English classes at Saint Jerome’s. (This is where Papa had learned English after he had just arrived.) When Moy knows enough English, he will take a test. If he passes it, he can go to university.

TUESDAY, JANUARY 2

I woke up early, extremely nervous about my first day at school. Papa had already purchased my school supplies, pens and pencils, notebooks, and a backpack to carry them in.

As we ate our morning meal, Papa showed me the bus route on a map for my return trip home. Franck is letting him drive one of the restaurant’s vans to and from work. He will use the van to drop me off at school, but I will have to find my way home by myself. (Papa assures me that it is very easy.)

I think it is Moy who has it easy. He’ll be going to afternoon classes and he doesn’t even have to take a bus.

LATER

The school is in a gray concrete building facing a slew of giant housing complexes, which Papa said are called “projects.” The projects are so tall that they look like mountains with windows.