Descriptive Essay : My Favorite Angel Pin

Every person has on object in their life that is very precious to the, for me, it is my pearl necklace. They are small and round and a lustrous cream color with a pink sheen. They have a tiny gold clasp that holds the necklace together. My pearls tell a story than no other personal artifact can: my heritage. The pearls symbolized tradition and womanhood in my family’s life, and they were to be worn with dignity and pride. Every holiday, the girls of the family accessorized their outfits with the pearls given by our grandmother. They were something we all had in common: the thread that linked our generations together. I recall looking down at my Nana’s casket and I could almost hear her voice whispering

Having Brandon in my life allowed me to improve my learning ability and achieve my long-term goals quicker. In my words, a prized possession is something that helps you to make your life easier, happy and encourage you of achieving your dreams. To illustrate this, a teddy bear for kids does not have the same meaning for adults, and a specific teddy bear can be more exceptional for an adult than for a

One man’s trash is another man’s treasure, or so the saying goes. What this classic idiom portrays is the idea that value is something entirely subjective, what is useless to one person is highly valued by another. Furthermore, the use of the word “treasure” implies a value so great it is almost incomprehensible; a treasure is something so valuable and important that it is cherished and held dear. The difference between something of value and something that is a treasure is generally an emotional attachment or reaction to the treasure.

People hold on to pieces of jewelry, furniture, and other symbolic collectables that is passed through generations. These things can remind a person of a loved one that is seen as being priceless.

Who you are is not defined by what you own, therefore owning objects is not detrimental to one's character and the development of a clear sense of self. However, just because objects are not essential does not mean that ownership of the tangible is taboo. Ideally, you should not be overwhelmed by objects or let them define in, but instead cherish the things that mean the most to you, but do not be tied down to meaningless things because what you own or don't own doesn't characterize your true self. What defines me are intangible ideas which include my core values, my beliefs, my knowledge, my true character, my personal experience and how I contribute and what I give to my community.

There are many items that I have in my possession that make me feel accomplished or an item that I use just daily. There is however, some items that have absolutely no idea why I have, and continue to hold on to them. For example, I still have a karate trophy that I really don’t pride, a computer hard drive that should have been thrown away, and some empty boxes of Run Gum. It’s either I don’t want it or I don’t need it, and these three items I really should not have, but will continue to possess.

Growing up with my father Scott, mother XXXX, and my beautiful sister Paige, I find it easy to reminisce of the happy times we shared together. However, not matter how dearly I pray of ignorance, I can’t erase what has happened from my mind. When I was rather young, my mother was deported back to the UK from which of where she is originally from, due to drug addiction issues. Experiencing the matter from first hand, watching my mother fall, grasping with all her life to find herself inside, whilst clamoring for her next high, tears me up inside to this day. The day she left us was the day I felt that my family couldn’t cope without her. I could never believe that my father could do for us what my mother was able to do. My suspicions to begin with were indeed correct, as we endured homeless shelters. Being in and out of homeless shelters ruined not only my family life, but also my social life. Having to explain to your young friends that you don’t really have a home, is a something I would never wish upon my bitterest of

Imagine a couple flying millions of miles to adopt two children who have been abandoned by their parents. They gave me a second chance at a better life in the US. It all started in 2001, Saint Petersburg Russia, Carrie and Brendan flew over the seas. Traveled to a tiny town called Luga to pick up my brother and I. I was dressed in a child's dress and two hot pink bows. I was too young to remember most of these events but I’ve been told many times how it went. I was very curious when my parents came to meet me in the orphanage that I stayed in.

55 years after the end of the Pedro Pan operation, former children feel grateful to the program and have lived successful lives. Although not every child was reunited with their parents, many individuals are proud of their parents and their remarkably hard choice to send their children away. Aida Cabrera Morris was nine when she left Cuba with her eleven year old brother. Instead of staying in Miami, they were sent to an orphanage in Denver, Colorado. Although their experience was not very good, and her brother experienced terrible circumstances, Morris had “come to terms” with her parents' decision, and she “won’t tolerate” any criticism of it. (Scaperlanda, 2011). Similarly, Mercedes Dash and her sister lived with a wealthy family but were not treated well. In 1964, when her parents arrived, they were noticeably thinner and malnourished. Despite the difficult circumstances, Dash describes her parents as “heroes” for their choice. (Weber, 2015) While Dash’s and Morris’ families were able to join them in the US, many parents were not.

Value is a subjective domain. What is insignificant to one is priceless to another. In that subjectivity, one tends to measure value in cost- what would you give for this? Some things come cheap, a minute of your day, a dollar of your savings. Others demand more, a piece of your soul, your mortal life altogether.

n 1975 as the Vietnam War was ending, Mai Thi Kim sent her seven- year-old daughter Mai Thi Hiep, later known as Heidi from that war-torn country to the United States in “Operation Babylift”. This operation saved many Vietnamese children’s life and gave them an opportunity to grow up and out of post-war chaos. This happened to Heidi, as she explains in the film “Daughter from Danang”, in which 22 years after she was given up for adoption, decides to go back to Vietnam and meet her biological family. However, the theme of culture shock is explored in depth in Daughter from Danang, as Heidi finds herself adrift in an unfamiliar culture and failing to communicate and the unable to cope with reality. In “Operation Baby Lift,” many of the children weren’t actual orphans–bereaved of both parents and all other relatives. Most children were told, “You have to remember who you are,” by mothers and other family members who relinquished them for adoption into North America.

At a very early age I discovered my interest in fervour of with being a sworn my enthusiasm found my vocation devoted as a fervent accumulator-of-things. I have never been one to throw anything away. And while I don’t accept the the term ‘hoarder’, the spectrum of objects I have amassed over the years ranges from collected scrap papers, letters, collectible toys and tickets, to sweet wrappers, ID photos, milk teeth, clothes and journals. When I look upon the objects around me, my possessions, there seems to be an unspoken hierarchy amongst them. What makes some of these objects more compelling than others?

What makes an object worth collecting? Curiosity is an important aspect of collecting. With the spread of colonies, there was an affinity to discover the unknown, or rather, the different. The nineteenth century paved the way for many sponsored expedition, looking for curios. Found object; vases, pots and pans, tools of everyday use, gained an importance, as curios. Nature has captivated the human cognizance since man first acquired tools, it would only be natural for the curiosity to extend to the subject of new flora and fauna. By means of collecting it is possible to establish a personal identity or characterize the other and often identifying this other as a conquest.

For years, I convinced myself that the story of my life began when I arrived in America at eleven months old. I tumbled through the clichéd white-picket-fence childhood, never realizing how impossible it was to completely discard the first year of my infancy. While I had always known about being adopted from China, I did not fully comprehend the weight of this detail until my late teenage years.

An angel. That's what I can describe about her appearance. "Angel" is the most suitable word for her that I can think of, maybe there is other words, but for me that is the most suitable word for her. Her skin is so white that onlookers might think that she is made up of porcelain, adding up with her black hair which is floating around creating a refraction of light, she gave out an aura of pureness. If I don't know her identity I might think that she is an angel who fall here to give me hope. Her face seems to be carved by a genius sculptor, and her ruby-like eyes is shining with crimson glow. But the expression that she wore is emotionless. With a perfect bone structure which made that flawless face, I, can see it, the emptiness that shown through her face. With her large greatsword that adorn by seemingly arranged silver ornament, she swings by all her might cutting all the enemies surrounding her. Blood spurting around like a carnival, but there's not even one speck of it that dropped to her shining armor. She swing and stab with vigor without any hint of tiredness, like a machine that is told to kill. There's nothing that can stop her, not even the (-- removed HTML --) which is blessed by the ultimate defense. With only one swing she cut-half the (-- removed HTML --) , Zog.