My Tikanga

 

Natalie Cassello

Nick Martino

Global Issues

October 31, 2014

 

This speech is dedicated to my great grandmother. My name is Natalie Cassello. My name is a chance of luck and a hint of humor. It was a joke chosen out of a bowl in the hospital room in a rush to go home, so there isn’t very much significance. It derives from the Latin word Natalia meaning Christmas Day, which is a coincidence because I was born on the 25th of April. My middle name is Paige, which comes from my aunt and my last name is Cassello,  which is Italian. I am an Italian, Spanish, French, German, etc. from the small state of Connecticut on the east coast of the U.S.. You know, that 5,544 square mile region next to New York. One of the six New England states, the Nutmeg State with the Praying Mantis as it’s state bug. The home of the Pez Factory, Pepe’s Pizza, the first polaroid camera, hamburger, helicopter, color tv, public library, published newspaper, and even the lollipop. Connecticut is my home, where I live in a tiny two bedroom house with my mom, brother, two younger sisters, and my dog. It’s where I will always remember swimming in Long Island Sound, touring private high schools, and choosing the perfect pine Christmas tree. I will always continue the Catala tradition of making cookies drenched in rainbow, crystal sugar shaped as reindeer, snowflakes, and angels without heads. I’ll always remember sledding down a fresh, white blanket of snow until coming inside with nearly frostbitten hands to drink hot chocolate overloaded with marshmallows. I’ll remember receiving a gift from the advent calendar every other four days and moving The Elf on the Shelf every so often to keep my sister’s belief in magic alive. I’ll remember starting Christmas mornings with stuffed stockings and the search for the pickle in a fight for the last present, while smelling the cinnamon buns baking in the oven. I’ll never forget that Christmas is my mom’s favorite holiday. I’ll remember each and every “I love you to the moon and back times infinity and beyond” and each amazingly different firework. I’ll remember each intricately carved jackolantern and creatively thought out costume. I’ll remember the amazing Thanksgiving and Easter feasts. I will never forget any of my family traditions.

 

I’ll remember going over to my great grandparents house as a toddler to go for a swim in my floaties and filling up on Wheat Thins. I’ll remember all their amazing stories over their ninety plus years of life. My Grandma Middlesworth lived through the Great Depression between the ages of 8 and 13 in an orphanage with her older sister because their mother couldn’t afford to support them. I’ll never take for granted all of the amazing Christmas memories after hearing that her only form of Christmas spirit was receiving an orange and a handful of Hershey Kisses. For Christmas a couple years ago she knitted everyone their own beautiful Afghan blanket. I almost cried when I told her that my dog ripped a hole right in the center of mine, but she happily took it back, and used the leftover yarn to make me a new one with a matching pillow. At the age of 16 she started her own knitting class to help others learn and contribute to her household income. She moved to Connecticut after my Grandpa retired from the military and together they raised three children, eight grandchildren, and fourteen great grandchildren. Throughout it all they continued with their passions and won many square-dancing competitions. My grandma continued to solve puzzles and knit blankets, and at the age of 90 she would deliver groceries to elders who couldn’t get to the grocery store themselves. I like to think I carry on her caring characteristics. She taught me how not to be selfish and how to always help others no matter what. I try to model this to others by sharing my work and aiding them to make their lives easier and happier. My name may have been a chance of luck, but I know that my personality was meant to be.