Personal Narrative: Elder Doty

I wrap my scarf around my neck and reach down to lace up my boots. Careful not to drop my cross body bag as it swings down, I stand up straight and walk out the door. As I lock the front door behind me, I inhale a deep breath. This is my favorite time of year. The air is brisk, yet the sun is warm on my skin. I begin my walk to work since my car officially died yesterday. This is the third time this month, but I don’t really mind. I love walking when the weather is like this. The sounds of leaves crunching beneath my feet sounds like music.

Walking to Ms. Lacardy’s resident at Latrobe St, I can feel a peaceful environment. In front of her house a park is located where children scream of joyfulness, they play tag, basketball, and use the swings. What I love about Ms. Lacardy’s street is that it portrays a safe, clean, and a calm area. Unlike other streets in Chicago this one In particular was very clean not a signal garbage on the sidewalks. In addition, I noticed that all the neighbors had signs that posted we call the police. This clearly showed the union and how civically engage this community is. As I enter Ms. Lacardy’s residence I can hear gun shots from the load television of course it was her all-time favorite tv series criminal minds, there was not a signal day she missed an episode. As she welcomes me with

It was a dry summer afternoon before the arrival of fall, and the beginning of a new school year in the northwest suburbs of Chicago. That afternoon few of my friends from Chicago named Marshall, Kevin, Connor and I had been planning to head over to Marshall’s house after school. As the bell sounded at 2:20pm we ran quickly to our lockers, and made it to the buses. All four of us met at Marshall’s house which was tucked in behind the forest preserve along a private road off Quentin road. The conditions were just right for riding around on our dirt bikes and go-karts although at the time 85 degrees was quite warm to us Chicagoans at the end September.

Slowly pulling into the yard we see that my very old fashioned Pentecostal family has set up microphones and amps across the front porch; not seeming to be worried about their neighbors in the very crowded subdivision. “Great” I thought as I looked over to my fairly new boyfriend who within two minutes already looks over whelmed. Coming from a very small, reserved missionary Baptist church this was anything but normal to the both of us. Soon a cool breeze starts to blow in sending the smell of good food straight into the air. Now this is what we came for.

The air was sharp and chilly when he stepped outside, just as he expected it to be in November. He had outgrown his jacket from last year and his father had told him that he couldn't afford another one, so to make up for it Cody wore not one, but two hoodies over top of his only winter sweater. He was uncomfortable and his arms felt stiff, but at least he didn't feel much of the cold.

The morning was wet and gloomy. Hunter and I approached the church, the wind was blowing at his tie, and sweeping through my dress. We walked into the house of God and found our spot on the hard pews. Shortly after our classmates found their seats and joined us. They stood alone with their sponsor behind them. Waiting their turn to walk up to the bishop and speak in front of the church. Yes, Hunter and I walked up to the bishop alone but when we both returned, we returned to someone, unlike our class mates.

3:00 P.M., the frigid rain darted down similar to ice shards and I could hear the merciless howl of the wind. Every step soaked my shoes as I walked down the flooded brick road, I felt myself beginning to drag my feet through the icy water. In spite of the weather, today is quite a memorial day, my war acquaintance back approximately 40 years ago has died peacefully in his deathbed, even the weather reflects the atmosphere flawlessly. 15 minutes till the funeral starts, I began to sprint and on every step a splash of water shot up, soaking my pants.

“What have I gotten myself into?” I thought to myself as I checked the weather forecast early one summer morning. The heat index for the day was 114 degrees, and I was still sore from working the day before. Nevertheless, I slipped on my boots and made the drive out to the farm on Old Salisbury Road.

As I peeked out of the vestibule, I grabbed my hat from my bag and pulled it down low over my ears. Then, I put my gloves back on and ventured into the wind. I stepped into the freezing February streets of New York, hoping I would make it back to my cozy apartment, which was a 20- minute walk away.

The trees willowed above the campers like fast moving water in a rapid. I consumed the words of the gospel as they flashed across the screen faster than Usain Bolt in his 100-meter dash, the calming sound of the strumming guitar as it fills the room. I feel the crisp pages of my song book grace my fingers as I open it to the first song. A dimly lit campfire glows against the campers’ faces as they harmonize together in song. As we got done singing we joined hands in prayer. I feel the slightly moist hands of my counselors and friends as we came together. I could smell the aroma of the fan favorite poppy seed chicken in the dining hall. The smell of the food overpowered the smell of the campfire smoke. After prayer, we rushed to the dining hall

“Beep, Beep, Beep!” That stupid phone just wouldn’t stop nagging me! I rubbed my eyes as I rolled over to turn off the alarm. “Whoa, okay. This is it, my thoughts carried on; I told Marissa I would go to church today. Hmm, do I really want to? I could just lie here in bed and go back to bed. But then what would I do with my day? What excuse would I have for my friend for bailing out of going to church with her, yet again? Yawning, I pulled myself up as I gathered my clean clothes and grabbed a clean towel to go take a shower. A little while later, I felt the warmth of the sunshine on my arms as I walked the four-block walk over to this new, unfamiliar place, full of people who called themselves New Fellowship Christian Church. As I looked towards the front, I thought,

As the glistening rays of the sun reflects its aureate light on the fresh coat of snow, a different breed of winter lovers awake. The smell of bacon sizzling on an iron skillet masks the air awaking all throughout the small cabin. As we gather around the old wooden table, smiles inform each other about what is about to happen. As we all bundle up for the frigid temperatures of the north, no one is afraid to suffer in the colder temps to look better than the others. The stiff molded boots form around my soft, delicate feet providing protection from any injury that may occur. In the act of zipping up our jackets, a feeling of excitement stimulates the atmosphere.

Sitting on the shore of the beach in the morning purity, a memory was faced. One that was unfamiliar but petrifying. An erratic emotion triggered repercussions of shock which rapidly flowed through my body, resulting gushing tears down my face. My chin lifted in the direction of the sky, slowly ceasing my eyes tight. The acceptance of those traumatic experiences was yet to occur. The rate of my breath calmed as my eyes fluttered easily against the warm wind. My toes wriggled slowly and at ease against the soft white sand, a sensational feeling. The air was moist, however astonishing. Adjusting my position, I placed the mug of flushed water close to my upper half as the essential heat directly transferred towards me. Clear as crystal, the sky

The sun wrapped my body in its warm blanket. It extended its radiant arms to the surface, illuminating my surroundings. The slight breeze flowed through my hair and encompassed my entire figure in order to reverse the toasty effects of that ball of heat from above. The wind and our star worked together in harmony without overpowering one another, helping to establish comfort. Finally, the weather was perfect – ideal temperatures and beautiful, clear skies. With a sunny and cool day, it was a relief that Athens was not cursed with scorching temperatures or with an incessant downpour of spontaneous rain. I wished I could turn back time and pause this moment in order to immerse myself in nature’s scenic beauty. However, I

The cold rain fell down on my body as I involuntarily shiver from the cold wet feeling on my skin. I look around to find myself surrounded by puddles of water and no way out. My breath was visible through the air. I was one of the best days to run in as well as the worst. It was another exciting day at track.