My family was never your average family. When you think about it, who names their child Miracle? I sure wouldn’t. I’ve gone by the name Mira ever since I was eight years old, after Bradley Sherman told everyone in our second grade class that the fact that my name is Miracle means I was an “accident.” That was followed by many comments like the infamous “it’s a Miracle that you’re smart enough to know that two and two equals four!” Believe me; eight-year-olds can be harsh.
There is a reason why I was named Miracle, though, and it’s pretty much the opposite of Bradley Sherman’s theory. This is the real reason: back when my parents had just gotten married, they were told that they couldn’t have children. There were medical issues, and according to the doctor, the chances were one in a million. However, by some miracle, I was born. January 1st, 1994 at midnight. Yes, I was the first baby of the New Year.
Just to add to the kookiness that is my family, my parents have a tradition. Every year on January 1st, instead of saying “Happy New Year!” at midnight like the rest of the world, they sing to me as loud as possible- even if we’re at someone else’s house. This wouldn’t even be so bad if they were singing “Happy Birthday.” But no, they’ve written their own special song for me. It goes on for about four minutes, and during those four minutes they call me every pet name they have for me. People listening to it don’t even realize it’s a birthday song until the last line of the song, which is “we just wanted to say, Miracle, happy birthday!” You can probably imagine that we’ve spent the last few New Years’ at home.
I’ve always been a bit of a night owl. When I was younger and my parents would make jokes about my sleeping habits, my excuse was always, “I’ve been staying up all night since I was born!” They usually laughed at that one. My parents don’t really care how late I stay up or where I go when I leave the house, as long as I come back before breakfast. They don’t get worried about where I’m going thanks to my I’ve-never-been-grounded-even-once status. I usually don’t leave the house on weeknights, but I still like to stay up until one or two in the morning. I just sleep when I get home from school until about eight, and then I do my homework. Some people say I’m weird because of this. I tell them they should meet my parents.
I live in a town called Matthews, just outside of Charlotte, North Carolina. The best thing about this small town is leaving it. My aunt, Kay, lives in New York City. I’ve only visited her a few times, but I love spending time with her in the city. She’s the closest to “normal” that you get in my family. I still remember my first visit to the Big Apple. I was seven years old; it was before I started telling people to call me Mira. Kay took me up to the observation deck of the Empire State Building. The view was so breathtaking that I remember grabbing Kay’s hand and smiling. There were so many words that I wanted to say, but being seven, I didn’t know that many yet. Instead, I just looked up at her and said, “Pretty.”
Her reply was a little hard to hear because of the wind, but she either said, “It is, Miracle,” or “It is a miracle.” Whichever one it was, I knew they meant the same thing.
Nine years later, I was ready to go again. My parents were letting me fly by myself to stay in New York with Kay for a two full weeks as a birthday present. I flew to New York the day after my birthday. I’m not going to lie- the flight was scary. As much as I love going to New York, I hate flying. Luckily, I fell asleep on the plane to New York because I hadn’t slept at all the night before. I had decided to take a long walk along the railroad tracks, which are right across the street from my house. I didn’t come back home until about three in the morning, and then I needed to pack my bags.
Staying in New York was amazing. The two weeks went by way too quickly. I was supposed to be keeping up with my schoolwork every night, but I couldn’t get it all done. Kay is like me in the way that she prefers to sleep during the day and stay up all night. After all, we were in the city that never sleeps! There was something new to do every night. And as it turns out, the view from the Empire State Building is even more breathtaking when it’s dark out. We took late night walks in Central Park and strolled through Times Square at extremely early hours of the morning. After a few days of those walks, I got used to the fact that no matter what time it was, there were always other people there- and I loved it.
