Descriptive Essay About A Blessing

All of a sudden, I felt her sweaty fingers against my wrist. I looked down and saw her black, precious hands tying a strand of beads to my wrist. It was a bracelet made of black, sparkly beads and transparent beads, strung together by a piece of black string. She began to tell me that she prayed over the bracelet and for me, because I helped her and had formed a friendship with her. The words she spoke touched my heart deeply.

Waiting for the feeling, something to hit me. It became clear this would not happen until I fell asleep. After being awake for almost 4 hours, my eyes really couldn't stay open any longer. Something began to happen, I couldn't tell what. I was falling, falling again. I landed, right in the middle of reality, and nowhere. The voice came on stronger this time, much louder. It was almost like it began to yell. "Can you hear the rumble that's calling?" The voice said again. Despite the loud volume of the voice, it was assuring. It made me feel comfortable. Even though I was in some sort of weakened state, I always felt better here than I did in the real world. Something was telling me that I just needed to be freed. Whether it was the voice inside my head, or some other voice, I felt it. The voice was so showing so much empathy, it felt inhuman, but at the same time it felt so human. It felt real, I could never describe the way it made me feel, how it moved me. I wanted to yell out, with everything I had. Part of me knew it just wasn't right, I had to wait for it to come to me. I knew that everything I wanted would come soon. I know what you're thinking, how was I not freaked out? It's simple, I didn't have room for that kind of thinking. I was so relieved to feel this way, it was a feeling of release. It's like that feeling when you get into a hot tub. The deeper you get, and the longer you stay, the more your body is at

Have you seen my husband? Is all my mom was shouting as she held my hand tightly, running back and forth through the hospital? A receptionist sent us to a room, which felt like coming into an isolated mausoleum. The cold air enveloped my entire body, ice has replaced my spine and numbness is all my fingers felt. The room was somber dark, dead silence; the only sound heard was the heart machine ... Beep … Beep. There wasn’t anything more traumatizing then seeing my father lain on the bed, unresponsive, tubes coming from out mouth and nose. The sadness and desperation in his eyes broke my heart. All of sudden the heart monitor went off with a loud buzzing sound. A nurse jumped out of nowhere “Code Blue”, in matter of seconds 4 nurses and a doctor surrounded my father, my mom and I mindset was at a shock, like were able to see what was happening but couldn’t do anything our body was some glued to the floor. The doctors and nurses tired to help my father but it was too late,

I fought the thoughts of not being able to breathe and allowing myself to have a panic attack. I have never been very religious, but it got to a point where counting didn’t help and the moment that destroyed my health replayed over and over. It was the few seconds prior to blacking out, to when I looked up at my rearview mirror and saw a truck coming right for me because he fell asleep. These thirty minutes of darkness symbolized the endless emotional and physical pain I had endured and my return to the darkness, which I cannot explain. So I prayed, hoping that even though I couldn’t remember all the verses, it would end the spinning and the torture. These moments of fear were more than claustrophobia; it was also a concoction of sadness. Sadness, that uncovered my weak and fragile human being self to the world because I had still not healed. As these thoughts deepened, the bed of the MRI machine began to move outward and I knew it was over. I hadn’t realized that my body was trembling until they took the thick white sheet off me. It revealed my shaking legs covered in Goosebumps and so, I pulled my fuzzy green socks up and with their help got off the bed. I wondered if that’s what it was like to live through a traumatic event or was it me being dramatic? Either way, I shut the door leaving the loud and terrible noises behind me. As I walked out, I could never see myself laying in that room again, unable to escape the endless

In the passages The Count of Monte Cristo and Blessings, the theme is discovered in different ways. They both have a great meaning and are delivered in interesting ways. The text includes details that help discover the theme. Although they give clues on the theme, they do not just say what the theme is. Therefore, you must try to figure it out from the clues.

Everything around me began to blur, including the line between reality and something strange, a place where nothing exists. I could feel myself detaching, but there was nothing I could do to stop it. I was unplugged and could not find the cord to reconnect myself, my thoughts were screaming over one another and it became impossible to single one out. Everything was fake in that moment, my memories, my feelings, my family, my friends, it was all a hoax that I was stuck in, that I had to be released from. Feeling deceived and unhinged, I remained inert and supine in bed. I covered my face, which was daubed with my tears, and listened to my thoughts all telling me the same thing. I sat up and began to wobble towards the stairs. I heard my sister call out, “I’m leaving Emma!”, and my anxiety intensified. Everything blurred into a combination of panic and tears as my sister tried to calm me down. It took hours to bring me back to

I went on my search to find the room that I was delivering the gift to, while following all the rules that were established at my orientation. At the time, the task seemed odd, I didn’t expect it to be something I would be doing when I started out. Everything seemed new, and different, it allowed me to view thing that differed from the protected scope I looked through my entire life. Reality was right in front of me, this was the reality of so many people, and it was something that I had never had to experience.

I could feel the breeze skim through my hair as my loose shirt caught the brisk air behind me. This was my sanctuary, the feeling was bliss. I made my way home, bracing myself for the approaching argument I was about to have with my mother. That feeling of pleasure left my body as quickly as it arrived. I stepped into the front door, and closed it behind me as quietly as I could, maybe she wouldn't notice I was late home. But before I could even take the first few steps inside, I heard mum coming from the kitchen,

In the poem “A Blessing,” James Wright analyzes the relationship between human beings and nature through the descriptive explanation of an encounter between his friend and himself and two Indian horses. He shows that although we are able to relate and interact with the animals we don't have the ability to join them or as Wright puts it: “break into blossom” (26-27). Wright uses imagery and personification to describe the nature he witnesses as he escapes from the stress of human life. The ponies in this poem are personified by comparing them to human beings, mainly through the description of their emotions. This personification lessens the gap between the author and the horses and separates him from civilization represented by the highways

I am now forced to lie awake, alone and scared, too afraid to sleep, while horrific images intrude my mind, disturbing what little sanity I have left. I feel that I am losing my mind; I am losing control over my body, my thoughts and actions. When I look at my hands, I do not see the once soft, white skin of a noble woman, but the blood-stained hands of a cold blooded killer. I do not know how long I can carry on. Sooner or later I feel that I will snap. Like a rope stretched so tight, its frayed and withered thread cannot bear the stress any longer. My body, seemingly fine, will soon resemble my broken and corrupted mind, as I lie, motionless, on the remorseless earth below. Finally I will find the peace that has escaped me, finally I will not be confined within a mind that has long surrendered all logic, reason and clarity, and will finally be free.

I crippled down into a pit of confusion and sadness. Although this happened often, it always seemed to hit home hard as the months progressed. I arrived home and tossed myself into the soft comfort of my bed. Curled up into a ball, I tightened and released my grip on my white covers repeatedly, my body slowly dozing in and out of slumber as I watched small ripples in the outdoor pool shine upon my bedroom wall, the moonlight brightening it. Slowly the whispers began developing, and I allowed them. I needed to listen, they crowded my mind and maybe they were all right. So, there I sat in the silence. Jabbled words filled the room, they seemed to be everywhere. Woman, children, and men. I tensed at the words, trying to make out what they were telling me. In the background faint noises played, either from past songs the band and I had developed or ones that just kept coming. Threats or sarcastic remarks, occasional words remembered from my parents or enemies. They kept coming, intensifying by the second, getting louder and louder, until the point where... I snapped. I sat up and screamed into the darkness, pulling at my hair and kicking my feet, as if I were having some kind of a toddler tantrum. My breath quickened and my nose wrinkled, like how it always did when I got worked up. Slowly, and then all at once they stopped. My mind gathered in the silence, and I slammed back down into the pillow, turning my head into it, screaming once more until

I sat in the common area as the other patients colored and played cards. What they were doing didn’t really matter to me, I just wanted to be alone. I’d always feel like I was drowning, so it came to me as a surprise to me when the nurses told me that if I were breathing, I was winning. At night I’d lay on the blue plastic mattress and miss my room and everything it stood for. The blue lights that are strung along my bed, illuminate my nights. The pictures of the one I love line my walls, they are the barrier that protects me from the rest of the world. The blue plastic mattress draped in thin white sheets stood for the cold empty feeling I couldn’t get rid of. My nights were full of my thoughts bombarding my

As I picked it up I noticed an elegantly written name; my own. It had been the gift my parents had prepared for me. It was still intact and unravaged like all the others that had been littered around it. When I had omitted from the gathering I was not only omitting myself from my faith but from my family. I no longer wanted to be characterized by the very faith that their world revolved around. I felt like denying their traditions was like denying them. As my vision blurred and my face became most, I began to open the box. Inside the small box was a necklace with stunningly detailed image of the Virgin de San Juan.

It started with a chill, each vertebrae vibrating one by one up my spine. Then the heat, my face flush and palms clammy. I could never keep up with my breathing, for it seemed as though each time I breathed out, I needed more air almost immediately. Soon, my mind was flooded with unsettling images, a new one appearing nearly every second, each worse than the last. Everything that I found comfort in was now an enemy. When will this end? My body could not keep up with the trembles and I could not resist the urge to scream. Was this room always so small? My eyes grew indecisive, darting across the room, until the capillaries within them bulged so greatly that I clenched my eyelids shut. Then, a long, deep breath.

West wonder at how much we all take for granted, and how too often we