Descriptive Essay On A Field Of Hay

Yet, as more people are being born, more people things you have in common with them. What’s that you might ask? Well it’s simple, and kind of obvious. We all have a name. But here’s what’s kind of special about it. You probably share your name with someone else in the world, or if you are one of those people whose parents just blatantly made up your name, well this doesn’t do anything for you. But, when you share a name with other people, it won’t mean the same. See, look at it this way. Names are like poetry, in a sense. It really could have a meaning to it, but whatever lies inside your heart, is it’s definition. A deep thought, huh? Really makes you

A person’s name is their most important characteristic and is often comprised of hidden significance and centurial “hand-me-downs”. When I was assigned to research my name, I had never thought of the importance of the name my parents had given me. As a child, I always found it annoying when my peers turned to snicker at me each time our church’s music minister asked for the congregation to stand and sing “Amazing Grace.” Each time I heard the song “Mary Had a Little Lamb”, there was always someone near to ask, “Hey, where is your lamb?” After conducting research, though, I began to find little things that made me more appreciative of my name.

I wasn’t there to see my siblings being born, but I was there when I got to visit them, and when my mom was pregnant, but wasn’t there for their birth. They aren’t twins, they are 4 years apart, if there was any confusion. When my nine year old sister was born, we were living in the state known as Texas. We only got to see her for a few minutes before we had to leave. When my mom was pregnant, I couldn’t wait to be a big sister, and that was a mistake, (she scares me). When my mom was pregnant with my five year brother, I was the one to know first, and she didn't tell us what gender, I just knew, she kept denying it, but I was the one who had that feeling that he was there, she never told me she was pregnant and I knew

My name is Lindsey Dice. Lindsey is from the English origin and it means “linden trees near the water.” To me, this means I have deep roots and am strong and stable, but surrounded by peace, serenity, and beauty. My last name, Dice, is also from the English origin and means “chance” or “luck.” I suppose I’ve been lucky throughout my life because I am surrounded by friends and family who I love and have been fortunate enough to always have the things I need and want in life. Our names are central to how we view ourselves in society, so in order to have good self esteem, we must love our name. I was born on April 1st, 1998 in the town of Saginaw, Michigan. I currently attend New Tech at Meridian High School and am duel- enrolled at Delta College. Playing the flute, yoga, and meditation are a few methods I use to express myself and calm down when I’m feeling anxious. My love for animals has encouraged me to convert to vegetarianism and not drink milk. After high school I plan on attending Central Michigan University to major in journalism and eventually move to New York. I am confident, sophisticated, and happy.

We had just celebrated the new year, a sign of new beginnings. The past fall my mother and I had a fight and were only communicating on a need to know. I had a boyfriend at the time, we had been dating for almost two years. I loved him and he loved me and I felt like nothing could ever go wrong, boy was I wrong. It was a cold morning, I woke up feeling strange but I could not quite figure out why. Jacob, my boyfriend, was the one who put the idea in my head. A couple hours later my life had went from just a normal nineteen year old, to being a nineteen year old facing being a mother. I was pregnant and there was nothing I could do to change that. Telling my parents, especially my mother was nearly impossible, “[a]nd after seeing my mother’s disappointed face once again, something inside of me began to die” (Tan 321).

It was an ordinary winter day in the city of Lynn, Massachusetts. As people headed to work and school they looked forward to the adventures the weekend would bring the next day. However, not so far away, Henry Rosario and his wife, Wendy Contreras, waited anxiously in their apartment knowing that the moment that would change their lives forever was near. “As my first daughter it was very painful, scary, and anxious” (Contreras interview). After waiting for what seemed like forever, they decided to go to Salem Hospital. Once they arrived, however, they were told by the doctor that she was not was not ready to deliver yet and was sent back home. At home, Wendy paced around the living room in agony waiting for the moment to come so she could get

To most, the tenth of October means next to nothing. Yet those seldom individuals, which I am referring to as my family, welcomed me into the world as I was born in the small-town of Columbia City. Somewhere around the world, Brett Favre was throwing a party for his 31st birthday (Famous Birthdays). The NFL champion and his family weren’t the only ones celebrating, as my family sat in the hospital, later receiving the news that the youngest child of the Wood family had been born. Along with the great news, great decisions also must be made; the permanent name to give your child for the rest of their life.

One day while walking through Frankenmuth, my mother had a gut feeling that she was expecting. When my parents returned home from the day’s festivities my mom snuck away to take a pregnancy test, which confirmed she was in fact pregnant. According to my dad, he was surprised and very excited to be expecting. My parents had long been trying to start their family but had suffered a miscarriage 8 weeks into their first pregnancy. Due to the prior miscarriage, my parents decided to use caution and wait until they made it through the first trimester to share the news with friends and family. My mother went on to explain that pregnancy changed everything for her from her diet to her daily activities. Both of my parents

The hot, arid air burned into my soul as millions of needles pricked my delicate skin. Beads of sweat coursed down my face as I turned towards the window facing the barren desert surrounding me. My family and I were on an ever sought vacation to the Grand Canyon, yet we had to drive from New York to Arizona and I radiated impatience throughout the journey. Walls of heat shrouded me as I gasped for air, yet my efforts were fruitless, swallowing nothing but fire. As my lungs collapsed, I looked out the window and into the heart of the looming sun, taunting me from afar. Suddenly, my eyes gave out and sweat and tears engulfed them till they took their true form. A forest blanketed with soft and gleaming snow, blemished by the phrase: “Only 10 more minutes.” However, I was awakened from my revery by a vehement cry as I gazed into the eyes of tattered vultures, of every discrepancy, with an unforgettably shrill voice. “Who dares enter our land!” they screeched dissonantly. Trembling, my eyes flashed over the sun and I was standing in a perpetual desert, with vulture's eyes glued to me. I froze with fear, though the sun baked my skin.

Now it was time to finally leave the hospital, and I really didn’t know where we would live at because I had no job. I really didn’t know how to feel about the situation other than scared and wanting to cry, but I couldn’t because Freddrick would feel something was wrong. Luckily my mother came to pick Freddrick and me up to move with her in Orlando, FL. Once we finally moved and had a place to live that was one less thing I would have to worry about at that point. I knew I had a lot more things to deal with, I needed to find Freddrick a doctor, I needed a job, find us our own apartment, and try to get some type of support for Freddrick from his father. There was a lot I had to get used to being that I had a baby. That I can’t just get up and go anymore, I had to pack a baby bag, and I couldn’t

Ever since I was a child I knew that I wanted to work with animals. Horses, in particular, have always fascinated me. After much begging, pleading, years of convincing, and always working hard to save up money, I convinced my parents to allow me to buy a horse. To me, Indie was the most beautiful quarter horse I could have ever dreamed of getting. Since our purchase of Indie, we have acquired another horse, Sherman, and a pony, Tucker. Although the horses have always been hard work, they were worth every sweaty hot summer evening of mucking out the stalls and frigid winter mornings of carrying water to the trough in order to avoid freezing our hoses. After all, I used to dream of being a veterinarian and helping all kinds of animals in some way.

When the sun slowly peeps over the range of mountains, birds shake the morning dew off their feathers and give a cheerful song that would lift even the most sorrowful of spirits. A light fog wraps around the mountain range, reaching to touch every bit of life thriving there. The slight chill in the air is enough to give a gentle shiver, but not enough for the need of a jacket. A breeze tickles the trees, making their leaves shake and sway with laughter. Sunlight seeps in past the thick canopy of branches with hopes of being able to reach the damp mountain earth. The mountains are the best place to live to be relaxed, see the most beauty, and never get bored.

I will never forget the moment my labor began, the moment that marked that step in my journey into motherhood. I can remember everything about it so clearly. My mom, fiancé, and I woke up early Friday morning to make our way to Western Missouri Medical Center. I stood in front of the mirror looking at my belly knowing it would be my last time standing in that bathroom with my baby inside of me still. It was a bittersweet moment that I cherished as long as I possibly could. I was set to be induced that morning and very excited, yet a little bit nervous. I had no idea what to expect. I’d been waiting a very long 37 weeks to finally meet this precious human that had been growing inside me. I had ideas of what he might look like, and what the experience might be like, however nothing could have prepared me for what was in store over the next few days.

Mother: I have a case of moderate arthritis from playing tennis and gardening, so my doctors were concerned about my body's ability to carry the pregnancy to full term and handle the full ordeal of the delivery. The birth of our child took a long time. I was in labor for nearly four days. We hired a lovely midwife who has specialized knowledge in handling special births, but after the second day, we decided to load me up in the car and head for the hospital. It was frightening, I suppose, but I also felt a clarity of purpose. I really wanted this baby and I knew that the baby's best chance and my best chance for survival was for me to stay calm and coherent as possible, for the sake of my family.

Just as I have changed throughout the years so has Grant’s Farm even though many qualities have stayed the same for long periods of time. Grant’s Farm has continuously been a place of ample laughter and pure happiness. When I was just a little girl, my mom would constantly take my brother and I to Grant’s Farm. This happened almost every week throughout multiple summers. Since we lived merely a couple minutes away, my mom would ride her bike along Grant’s Trail with my brother and I sitting behind her all buckled in a child carrier that attached to her bike. She, without a question, treasured moments like this because not only could she get her exercise in, but also would not have to pay for parking. This is what my mom would call a win-win situation. Consequently, we would then take a ride on the tram in order to go see the numerous amounts of animals the farm had to offer. I might have been frightened to feed the goats, but my brother absolutely loved the capability to give the goats milk even if his clothes may have been ripped throughout the process. I, however, genuinely enjoyed watching the elephant show, since elephants were and still are my absolute favorite animal. Since then, I have grown up and I am frequently questioning how Grant’s Farm originally began due to the reason that I have been there a countless number of times throughout my childhood with both family members and friends. Well, General Ulysses S. Grant’s original home purchased by the Busch family has