Ok, I’ll put my comments in in bold.
[QUOTE]
*Originally posted by RazzBaronZ *
The pasta was al dente, the sauce was thick and chunky, and the chicken was just right. can you pick another phrase besides “just right” that will make the reader really experience the chicken?
The two families on either side of the table, my family and the DiFabios, lifted their glasses, full of red wine, for a toast. I translated my father’s words, “Siamo molto felici perche abbiamo la capacità di essere qui con sua famiglia di nuovo!” [We are very happy because we are able to be here with your family again!] With that, there was laughter around the table, and I, too, lifted my glass for a toast well said.
I thought back to the reason I was in Rome, to the painful event ten years prior that had changed my life. I was a carefree four-year-old catching a fun ride on the back of a rickety carriage. As my foot slipped from the bumper of the carriage, it got stuck in the spokes of the wheel, and a sharp pain shot through my leg. My tibia snapped. **I would insert "had" between "tibia" and "snapped"**
The fracture, although extremely painful, had had a positive influence on my life – it extended my stay in Italy and I became enraptured with both the country and its culture. I would probably strike one of the "had"s, since the “positive influence” presumably extends through today.
At that time, my family was fleeing the persecution of Jews in communist Russia, seeking freedom in America.
We were in transit, hoping to be granted political refugee status by the U.S. government. Having left home with little money and bare possessions, my parents desperately needed help to support our family. i’m not sure what you mean by “bare possessions.” Might it make more sense to say “minimal money and possessions” instead of “little money and bare possessions”?
Renato DiFabio was kind enough to offer my father odd jobs around his house and small business, even though he did not need the help. ** How did you meet Mr. DiFabio? Consider saying something like "Renato DiFabio, a Roman shopkeeper whom we had met on the plane, . . . " or something like that.**
He saved our family from the streets by paying my father enough to make rent. consider striking the word “he” and replacing it with “Mr. DiFabio” to make it clear who the hero is.
As our family became better friends with this generous man and his family, we became less upset that my fracture delayed our flight to New York City after we had been granted refugee status.
Even now, I am puzzled by the way our families were able to share closeness without speaking the same language. I craved to speak with Chiara, Renato’s daughter, who was also four and my tricycling buddy, and turned to television — my “Italian school.”** I would say “so I turned to television” instead of “and turned to television” to make it clear who’s turning and why.**
Since the heavy leg cast kept me bedridden, there was plenty of time to educate myself. Television puppets were my teachers. Though I did not realize it at the time, I was watching Sesame Street in Italian. As I lay there in my bed, I learned the Italian alphabet, numbers, and soon was able to put a few words together in Italian.
I could not lie in bed forever. My parents began to take me to the park with a cast on my foot in order for me to get fresh air, but I refused to sit still as the other children played in the park. I would probably put a time-frame in. "After a month or two, my parents began to take me . . . "
Escaping my parents’ vigilance, I often slipped onto the field to play soccer with my new friends. Amazingly, I became the best player on the soccer field since my cast enabled me to hit the ball harder and farther than any of the other children. this sentence seems a bit overstated to me, especially with the word “amazingly” tacked on. I would say "Surprisingly, my handicap proved to be an advantage, since my cast enabled me . . . "
Thanks to Sesame Street, I could count the number of goals I scored each game and also socialize with the other children via a common language.
None of us could eat another bite. the transition seems a little jarring here. Consider prefacing the sentence with "Our reunion dinner with the DiFabios had lasted several hours, and none of us could eat . . . "
With great effort, Renato got up from the table to pick up a photo album. Until this point, I had been translating in both directions, in-between bites. Now, it was time for the pictures to speak. There were images of Chiara and I playing catch, with my cast proudly displayed. Everyone in the room was able to share the memories contained within that album. The final picture was a group photo of our families in front of the plane on which my family left Italy so long ago.
In Brooklyn, my parents slowly established themselves at their new jobs, and we all had to learn another language – English. I became fluent in English, but my passion for the Italian language remained. From elementary school to high school, I studied Italian, hoping that one day I could revisit the country and converse with local residents. Thanks to the amazing Italian teachers I have had throughout the years, my dream was realized that warm summer night, over dinner with the DiFabios.
** I would strike the word “amazing” and replace it with “excellent.” Sorry to sound condescending, but “amazing” sounds kind of immature.**
Reluctantly, the families said goodbye. Some tears were shed, mostly in happiness. We promised a return visit before long. With a feeling of sadness, we made our way to the airport. ** I would make it clear that both families went to the airport**
I was caught by how much Italy had grown on me yet again. My face lit up when Renato suggested another group photo in front of the airplane, just as we had posed ten years ago. We boarded the plane with content, no longer sad. ** I’m not sure you can use the word “content” as a noun like you did. Perhaps “a feeling of content” would be better.**
Though no one said anything, we were all sure that history would repeat itself, that my family was bound to come back for another visit to this wonderful country.
** I would get rid of “wonderful” and say “captivating” or something similar.
All in all, I think your essay is decent. Personally, I’m turned off by multicultural stuff, but I realize that that sort of topic is all the rage. Also, “the event that changed my life” is a bit of a cliche. However you do present these themes in a very genuine way, and for that you deserve praise.
One last thought: If you can, I would make a couple subtle comments about Mrs. DiFabio that show her to be an intelligent, independent woman. (Perhaps she keeps the books? Or has her own successful business? Or made some insightful comment at dinner?)
Best of luck!!!
**
