Descriptive Essay About Simpson Park

My first day of the second grade, I knew no one except the teacher and my younger brother. Kindergarten and first grade had been easy enough, but I was scared of the upcoming year. The only thing I knew about being the new kid was that it hadn’t panned out too great for Addie from the American Girl books. Mrs. Henson’s class was fairly quiet throughout the day, for most kids were nervous or tired. We neared the end of the day and I was ecstatic over the fact that hadn’t made a complete fool of myself. I hadn’t met anyone yet, but I thought that that would be a challenge for another day. Unfortunately, that’s not what Mrs. Henson had in mind. She sent us all out to recess with a grin plastered on her face and with me practically kicking

No matter what happened during the school year I would always come back to camp and be able to spend time with the girls that went from friends to family over the nine years that I had known them. This last year was the last time I would ever get to do activities, earn merits or even swim a mile. During my last two weeks at CLH I knew this but it did not sink in until it was my last time to hike up to Church Mountain as a camper. On the way up my eyes started to sting and I reached over and grabbed my friend Riata’s hand. I looked over at her and saw that she was crying too. Once I realized she was I looked around and witnessed my entire cabin start to break down and come to understand, this was our last year, our last chance to do anything a camper could do. It was during this time that I truly came to appreciate everything camp has taught me and the great friends that I made along the way.

It was the year 2008, I had just graduated from St. Michael’s School located in Los Angeles, CA. This year was quite exhilarating for me also scary because I was going to attend an all-girls high school. Los Angeles was my birth place also a place where I called home. One day, I came home to hearing my parents talking about moving to Mississippi. I remained devastated, not only we were moving to the south, I’m moving away from childhood friends. I was worried I wouldn’t see them again and I was worried that I wouldn’t be able to make new friends in Mississippi.

The church must be a central part of rebuilding the community, they are strangers to. There are a variety of ways of reaching the community, however, whether the church elects the execution of at least one or more of these methods are something of a different matter. Pleasant Hill Baptist Church (PHBC) today, does not have an ongoing focused vision, structured outwardly, in place. By the same token, in regards to connecting or bridging the outside community to the relevance of the church, there have been several attempts made. Examples: Service on the lawn, “Cross” walk Easter Sunday, and Church cookout and picnic day. These creative ideas used to get the attention of the community were only temporary.

It was a fine, summer, Saturday when everything changed for a young teenager named Miller Frederick. School had already started for Miller and he was at a new school. That summer, his family had moved from Pensacola, Florida to Dewitt, Michigan so Miller didn’t have many friends. He lived in a very rural area so he didn’t have many neighbors he could hang out with. Miller had just gotten back from his first day at his new school and he became friends with another new kid from Germany. His name was Reginald Kleinhans. Surprisingly enough, they had a lot in common. They both loved basketball, horror movies, and writing.

Walking into Booth Middle School on the first day of seventh grade, all I wanted was a friend. I cared little about whether they would make an impact on my life; as a newcomer to Peachtree City, I was open to befriend anyone. Within the first week, I met Annabelle. I was so preoccupied with the excitement of having a new friend that I was unaware of how greatly she would impact not only my first day, first week, or first year of middle school, but how vastly she would affect my future.

Girls perch on the tables like exotic birds gossiping and giggling, a football fly’s above their heads between two jocks in varsity jackets parading their toned muscles. Groups of high schoolers sit around the room laughing. Weekend has arrived and the hallways of the school were filled with tons of kids ready to go home. Every ear filled with the sound of multiple conversations going off at once, lockers opening and closing, music blasting without. I had managed to push past the constant stream of children and to the school field. The grass was damp and covered in a thin layer of frost. As I walked my footprints were embedded, leaving a piece of me in the cold ground. I saw my friends faraway chattering and fooling around. I was stuck in the wrong crowd; they are nothing like me but somehow I am still friends with them. I slowly made my way up to my “so called friends”.

As any other freshman entering high school it can be a very nerve racking situation. On September 8, 2015 I Chelsea Gonzalez was entering high school in Thurgood Academy Of Learning And Social Change , my mind was going crazy and I didn't know what to expect. I have always asked myself whether high school would be similar to what appeared in movies; people dancing and singing on top of the lunch tables or, was it going to be a 4 horrible school years in which I would never make friends. I clearly remember seeing kids running toward their group of friends, as I walked down the lunchroom. My hands were sweating and it felt like a million butterflies in my stomach. The room was filled with cries of laughter, kids running back and forth asking each

It was a peaceful and normal first hour. Well, at least for the people in it. Everyone was yelling, and the teacher had just given up on trying to stop them, and now was just browsing for a retirement home in Key West. I looked up at Jordan, who was my best and only friend. Her spiked blond hair was never put down, even in the toughest rain. Her tan legs sat on top of her desk, and her pine green eyes scanned the school newspaper.

MOUNT VERNON, Ky. — Christian Appalachian Project (CAP) has partnered with a group of youth from 10 different LDS congregations in the Lexington area for the first time to serve in Rockcastle County. The youth conference consists of kids ages 14-18 doing various projects around CAP such as commodity distribution at Grateful Bread Food Pantry, preparing disaster relief bags on Williams St., sorting/steaming clothing donation for Grateful Threadz, and constructing ramps/benches at the housing barn in Mount Vernon. Once a year there is a conference like this to strengthen the kid’s faith in Christ, allowing the kids to build important friendships, and serve the larger community.

When I think of a place that I really love to be at the first thing that comes to mind is a baseball stadium, but specifically Busch Stadium. This is the home of the St. Louis Cardinals, it is one of the most beautiful ballparks in America. As a child I vividly remember making many trips in the summer to see the cardinals play and whether they won or lost I was just happy to be there. In my lifetime there has been two Busch Stadiums, I have been to both. The newest one was built in 2006 and many upgrades have been installed year by year.

Every year, The Barn Wesley Foundation provides us with the amazing opportunity to experience a connection with God at Timber Creek Camp. We are blessed to enjoy three days at the camp and share a unique, bonding moment with all of our peers from Perkinston and many students from other colleges who also attend the event. I have been able to attend this event twice, and each time has proven to be a wonderful adventure, helping each and every one of us surpass our difficulties and leave our burdens on Christ.

7am. That was the time I arrived at the parking lot of the First Presbyterian Church in Woodbridge, New Jersey. The destination was Montreat, North Carolina and I was about to embark on a journey with twelve other kids to attend my first Montreat Youth Conference, a retreat focused on strengthening and shaping youth’s faith. The number of stories I’ve heard of what a week in the black mountain area of North Carolina entailed led me to crave the formation of my own stories. This trip was reputable for being “life changing,” and Montreat was supposedly a “thin place between heaven and earth,” but before going on the trip I was perplexed as to what those words meant and if they were ever going to hold meaning for me. However, after a twelve-hour

Red lights, traffic lines, students walking or dragging, I could hardly tell. Today marks the day of my first day of high school without my best friend who may not connect to me blood-relatively but a family in my heart. I thought to myself, what if I can’t find any of my friends? What if I can’t find any of my classes? What if everything doesn’t turn out the way I want it to? Anxiety and panic roll in my body as soon as my mom stopped the car. I hesitated to open the car door, making little movements to even try to get out the car. I waved goodbye and shut the door closed so lightly that I think my mom had to properly shut it again. As I make my way to the front entrance with the gated black fence that shines so dimly, I looked up randomly at the sky, noticing that the clouds appeared very cloudy and immediately assumed that the rain will start sprinkling

A ways away from a town that I call home, I found a happy place. I often find myself walking through the park by myself. The beautiful trees, the way the yellow and red leaves crumple under my feet every step I take. When the flowers bloom and how it's the most spectacular sight you could ever imagine seeing, all the different colors that appear. When you breathe in and you get this smell of purity, you feel free and alive. Sometimes I like to sit on the old wooden bench where the bench frame is a little rusted, and I get rid of my thoughts and my eyes search the sky. In the winter the icy breeze makes me shiver, and the cold air I take in, is like sitting in front of an air conditioner and breathing in. Some mornings the sun beams across the sky, which is not quite blue yet, but the sun has almost fully risen. When the wind blows, it grazes over the blades of grass. Some days I just stand and take a deep breath in and I can taste the spring. When summer comes around, and the bees are buzzing, and the hot sun beats on the back of my neck, I lay on the soft grass and listen, to the birds chirping a beautiful song, and the kids playing in the park. The sky is the bluest view in sight.