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my mother. I told him, “Leave me. I’m okay; check on Mom.” He told meto stop talking and not to worry about anything. By the time we got to thehospital, I had passed out in his car because I was losing too much blood.I woke up two days later, and I was all stitched up. I couldn’t look at myfeet. They didn’t feel like I could control them or even like they were part of mybody anymore. They were all swollen and hurt badly from each side. The doctorsdidn’t have much hope in my using my feet or walking again.A year and two months later, I had progressed with help from my wholefamily and friends. I walked out of the hospital with a big smile on my face.I believe that God is always watching over us in one way or another.On that day, and after, he happened to guide me through my process alongwith my family.Persevering131armand preciArmand Preci studies at the College of Staten Island’s CUNY Language ImmersionProgram (CLIP). His teacher is Caryn Davis. After immigrating from Albania, he has livedin New York for six years. He says, “Writing is a way people express their feelings in acourageous way.”