Michael O'Brien pressed his nose against the ship's railing and stared at the Statue of Liberty. After two long weeks crossing the Atlantic Ocean from Ireland, they had finally reached America! Mama squeezed his hand. "We're almost there, Michael. Soon we'll start our new life."
But first, they had to go through Ellis Island. Michael and Mama joined hundreds of other immigrants climbing off the ship. They carried everything they owned in two small bags. Inside the enormous brick building, people spoke dozens of different languages. The noise echoed off the high ceilings.
A doctor in a white coat examined Michael's eyes with a special tool. Michael tried hard not to blink, even though he was scared. His heart pounded. He'd heard that if you were sick, they might send you back across the ocean. Mama had warned him to stand up straight and look healthy.
Next, an inspector in a uniform sat behind a tall desk. "Name?" he asked in a stern voice. Michael's mouth felt dry. "M-Michael O'Brien, sir," he stammered. The inspector wrote something down. "Where are you going?" "To Boston, sir. To live with my Uncle Patrick." More writing. More questions.
The waiting felt like forever. Michael watched families around them—some were crying, some were laughing. Finally, the inspector stamped a paper and handed it to Mama. "Admitted," he said. Mama read the paper three times, tears streaming down her face. These were happy tears, though.
As they walked toward the ferry to Manhattan, Michael looked back at Ellis Island one more time. He would never forget this day—the day he became an American.