Living with gratitude by Jackeline

Living with gratitude by Jackeline - January 2026 Scholarship Essay

My Father's absence is the most painful presence in my life. A presence is usually a physical being or thing, something you can feel or touch, but what about when a presence is a knowingness that I most likely will never meet the man engraved in my DNA? If I do see him, I will not remember the stories my mother tells me with fond reminiscence in her eyes about when he would hold me all night with love and care while we sat on our raggedy couches. I won’t remember the way he would make my Tio and Tias laugh all night under the starry California night sky, or how good he was at dancing cumbias. If I ever get to see this man again, I would not see any of the joyous hand-me-down stories; I would see the man who was incarcerated, then deported when I was 7, a drug addict for most of my life. I would see a failure, an underachiever, a man who has made me a person that others have to walk on eggshells around because they think I’m hurt, damaged, different. That is what most people think, but in reality, they couldn't be more wrong.

You see, I’m 17 now, not 7, and I'm not the broken, damaged, emotionally fragile girl anymore, and my traumatic childhood experiences don't define me. I define them. I have turned the painfullest and most vulnerable memory that once hurt me into a strength that allows me to live each day choosing to see what's present rather than what's missing. My father is a piece of a missing puzzle that I’ve lost, but now I can appreciate the other pieces I do have so much more. I have my resilient mother, who risked her life and crossed the border at 16 to raise my siblings. I appreciate every small wrinkle on her freckled, soft face, which symbolizes her endurance, strength, and power. I appreciate every silver hair on my grandpa's head that comes from lengthy work days, inhaling toxic fumes at a tiresome, low-paying job to buy me a raspado de fresa after catholic mass while we catch up and talk about our favorite psalms. I appreciate every coffee that I get to enjoy with my Tia Yessica, my greatest supporter, and the funniest person I know, while she motivates me and tells me I have the power to be whoever I want to be.

My father will perhaps never know that my favorite author is Fyodor Dostoevsky, and that my favorite color is pink, and that I’m deeply motivated in history, and I have even started advanced college courses in high school to learn more about my fascination with the past, but I’ve made peace with that. I now realize that instead of measuring my life for what it's missing, I will value it for what I have. I have endless laughter, love, a passion for baking, and a undenying wanting for education that the hard-working generations before me had out of reach, but were so deserving of. This appreciation didn’t come naturally. It came from grieving for a person who’s still alive. I'm glad life taught me to slow down and look around at the blessings I have. Appreciation is the most important thing in life because what good is it to have all the finest things in life without the beauty of gratitude?

Gratitude has taught me that any ordinary moment can feel extraordinary because it comes not from excess, but awareness of the people around you, the laughter you hear, and the love you feel deep inside of you, knowing that what you have is good enough for you. In the end, what we have won’t define our happiness, but instead, our ability to acknowledge its value will.

My appreciation is my superpower. It’s the factor that helps me move forward, while also scarring me because it's constantly reminding me of what I have had to endure. As I begin a new chapter in my life, I will carry my gratitude with me always. One day, I will be practicing immigration law, and I will prevent other little girls from being seen as pitiful, they will not be thought of as different or damaged. Their fathers will know their favorite color, and most importantly, they will never be missing a piece of their puzzle.