How To Write A Narrative Essay About My Blanket By Kenya Blaeser

I have heard the phrase, “life isn’t easy”, so many times in my life. And I finally realized the truth in it.

cancer is the enemy. cncer kills over 20 thousand people a day occording to global report. this terrole disease is so common 12.7 million people a year find out they have cancer and of that number rouggly 7.6 million die. cancer being the leading cause of death world wide has led to several fundraisers to support our courageous fighters. a fundrauser i have been lucky enough to participate in is a 5k run/3k walk. i was 13 when i partocipated in my first 5k run/3k walk in stuttgart germany for a light the night for all kinds of cancers. pervous to the fundraiser i was sadly told my cousin who was just a baby at the tome had been diagnosed with luekimia. immediately i wanted to help, i began by spreading the word around my school and having my friends buy tshirts titled

I have had many possessions precious to me, but non-mount to the only thing that I have had since I was born, my baby blanket. The blanket has gone through life with me, been with me through it all. This blanket is my childhood; it means the most to me and it is the memories I couldn’t bear to hold. Though it’s a torn up piece of fabric, I could never let it

The drive there was time consuming, but we stopped at many attractions along the way. My family and I spent the night at a hotel where there was a pool and an arcade. After a night of rest, In the morning we packed up our belongings and headed back for the road. I didn’t notice I didn’t have my blanket until we were ten minutes away from the hotel. Panic arose and I was soon screaming at my father to turn around. My father caved and eventually we were able to get my blankie.

I never thought the day would come where I’d have to admit to myself I had an addiction. The hardest part was to except the fact I was an addict of painkillers and admitting it to my family so that I could get the help and support needed to get clean. The road leading to my addiction started with the factors of my childhood, always trying to fit in and not being supported emotionally from my parents. Having a child at the age of sixteen was the second factor, which made me grow up faster than a normal child at my age would have had to. Living the life of an addict was a struggle everyday but, getting help was the hardest part of it all. I’ll live with this disease for the rest of my life because recovery is a

Many people have various valuable items that they cherish, some only have a few but everyone has that one thing that hey hold close to their heart over everything. My one item happens to be a necklace that my papa got me for Christmas right after he was diagnosed with liver cancer. This necklace means so much to me because of the character behind it, the many feelings it gives me and the heartfelt memories behind this one simple gift.

This blanket means a lot to me because it is a memory to take with me of her. Not knowing how long we can be in the ghettos or in the concentration camps I want this blanket for the winter when it gets cold outside. She is 91 years old and is also another cancer survivor in my family so she is another inspiration in my life. I wouldn’t want to leave this blanket behind in the ghettos because it is like a family heirloom because my mom had it when she was pregnant with me and I want to pass it down to my

Cameron Academy, the place where it all started for me. The first ever school that I had gone to. It was the place where I learned to fear anyone older and bigger than you because the teenagers there were not above fighting kindergarteners. Where I learned that the safest place to be after school was the office because the fights between the police and the students that took place outside on the front steps of the school were too brutal for me to witness; at least that's what my mom told me. That school was the place where I learned to be ashamed of any art that I may produce, to always keep it to myself, lest I be laughed at by the teachers. Cameron Academy is where I learned that “bad” kindergarteners who were in Ms. Valorie’s class got beat up.

Something that has been extremely important to me and still is really important to me is my Winnie Pooh blanket. Now you may think why is a teenager still need a blanket to sleep with? Well I have a good reason. This blanket reminds me of my father when I was little. My dad got me this blanket when he was deployed in South Korea, he got this for me because I was little and he loved to bring back presents, since he regretted missing most of my life. My dad has left several times to go serve his country, and I hated it because I missed my dad growing up. I love this blanket right now, even though now my dad is home right now. I don't really know when he will be gone again. This blanket also brings back memories to me, of my younger days when

Memory is one of our greatest assets. “It is how we know who we are. Memory gives us a sense of history, our origin, roots, and identity. By it we relive special events, birthdays, anniversaries and days of national significance. The Lord’s Supper is a call to remember Christ and the cross.” The relationships we have in our lives often become stronger as we take time to reflect on what that person has done for us in the past and continues to do for us. As adults we are able to look back and see the sacrifices our parents made for us and we realize just how much they

When a little kid gets a teddy bear, a toy train or a doll from a special time or a special someone, it can become a part of them. Some kids carry a teddy bear or doll until it is falling apart and missing eyes, but no matter what it looks like to others, it’s still beautiful to them. I have things that are important to me, because my Grandfather that passed away gave them to me. These are things that I keep as a memory and no matter how old they get or how old I get, they are always going to be special to me.

While I was in my grandparents’ house a few years ago, I had noticed a very soft woven mohair blanket in their living room. I was told that my aunt had picked it up while she was in Ireland, and I knew that when I went to Ireland, I would acquire one for myself.

Richard Rogers’ song “Favorite Things” talks about how the narrator’s favorite things make them feel better when times aren’t the best. People often have a memento from childhood that they keep throughout their life, such as a stuffed animal or a tea set. These possessions represent a memory or event from one’s life -whether it be from early on or from later in life- which in turn remind them of the feelings from the times they received it. These tokens from their early life often mean the world to them, and this is an accurate description of how I feel about my “Blankie.” My blanket is a source of comfort, every small imperfection has a memory behind it, and these impressions make the blanket unique to my life and my experiences. While most of the details that reside on my blanket are small and often remain unnoticed, each one makes it more important to me.

My story is split into three sections, which collectively explore an unnamed, unidentifiable character and three interwoven narrative arcs. I have outlined them in chronological order, however, as I intend to regard time fluidly to enhance characterisation and reader disorientation, I am not yet sure this is the order they will appear in.

Stephen Grey hopped out of his black SUV, with Stephen's brown hair slicked back and his blue jeans and black shrit on, glanced to the right then to the left with green blue eyes. All that he seen, and heard at this very moment is a loud angry wind howl and the street lights dimmed down and flickered making a buzzing clamor. As he strolled across the pitch black street he saw a sign dangling in front of the window, it was almost like the sign was screaming at him,