Tamar Zurashvili is a 63-year-old native of the Georgian Republic, who has lived in New York for three months. She writes, “My country is famous for its art, songs, and dances. Nature is marvelous, with high mountains, rivers, resorts. I love my country, and I love the United States, too.” she is a student of Marie Bareille at the College of Mount St. Vincent’s institute for immigrant Concerns, where Donna Kelsh is the director, and Mark Brik is the education director.
A girl with an open book on her knees is sitting on the sofa at a window. The room is full of magic sounds of music that she loves so much. Whether she is reading or studying, the music is always with her.
The girl’s heart is full of joy; her eyes are shining. The next day she is leaving her little provincial Georgian town, but she is not thinking now about those who will be left behind. She is looking forward and sees the huge, splendid, white building of the State University—the first and highest-level school in her motherland—where she is going to take the entrance exams.
Her soul is already fluttering into the corridors and rooms of the building of her imagination. The girl is so deeply sunk into her dreams that she cannot notice the branches of her favorite mulberry tree through the wide-open window.
The emerald leaves are trembling as if they are saying farewell to their friend who is going to an unknown future.
At this time, the girl doesn’t know that her great dream will come true and that the University will become the alma mater, not only for her, but for her children, as well. Now, her heart and eyes are full of dreams . . . dreams . . . dreams.
(The article was published in The Literacy Review, a literary journal published by The Gallatin School of Individualized Study at New York University.)