Personal Narrative Essay

in 2014 I had done a lot of fundraising in the past year such as selling about 50 spam musubis a day plus cookies and brownies and even selling bentos and doughnuts ands finally trail mix bars during school. even outside of school I did fundraising from car washes to even mowing yards. eventually I made enough money with the help of all my family to get to go on the trip. I even made more money so I could relinquish it so I can buy gifts and such things like food. I'm not infallible at Japanese because it so happens that I cant read any of the signs that are in japan. when we landed in japan it was amazing because the airport was so huge and had paintings that look so amazing. when we got our luggage, it was pouring rain when we went outside to the bus. it was about an hour and a

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

Cold and flu season was upon the nation and one December my kids, one after another, caught that season's cold, along with its lingering cough. After weeks of taking care of the kids, I inevitably, got the gift that kept on giving. A yucky cold. I should have known this was going to be one for the record books because the sore throat was SO painful. Not. fun.

"Hey McKenna, could you come here for a second?" Tuesday, the demo team leader, asked. "Yeah, sure. What is it?" I replied. I could tell something was wrong by the worried look on her face that replaced her usually bright smile. "Steven rolled his ankle, so he won't be able to do the demonstration, which means that you will have to do a break." Oh no, I thought. It's the day of the Mother's Day show, which the demo team has been practicing for for weeks. I didn't have a break ready, let alone one showy enough for an actual demonstration. "So I was thinking you could do a blindfolded spinning wheel kick, does that sound good?" Tuesday questioned. I just stared blankly at her at first. The few times I have done a blindfolded kick, I have missed

One cold winter day sitting at home waiting for my kids to get home from school. It was almost 3:00pm and they get off the bus at 3:05pm and all the sudden my phone rings and it’s the kids’ school. All I heard was “We have Diego; we need to come to school right now.” My heart dropped, and that was the longest ride ever and we only lived 3 minutes from the school. I got to the office and I had no idea what to expect my son sitting in the chair in the Dean of Students office, he spots me and just starts crying. I asked “What’s going on with my son?” When the effects of bullying have been brought into your life, the effect it has on your family as a whole was hard, but we did overcome the problem that faced us as a team.

If you were in the store and you see some old lady gets her money taken.The boy starts running away would you speak up or stay silence? Well let me tell you the whole story. I woke up and turned on the news that there have been a lot more crimes in maryland the past few weeks I could not find any nice clothes to wear. I had to go to the store to find new clothes. So i called up Ethan to say I would be a little late because I had to find new clothes.Ethan said its ok because I need some to. I was driving with Ethan And we were talking about the cake,location, and decoration. We were hungry so we went to ihop. I had the original short stack buttermilk pancakes. Ethan got the Strawberry Banana Pancakes. We left ihop got in my car and went on

“You’re OVERWEIGHT” I have always been told. My mom was overweight most of her life as well and she wanted better for me. She never wanted to see me struggle as much as she did. My father was an alcoholic around the time I was born so mom raised me as a single parent for the first few years of my life until she meant her now current husband. She recently just emigrated from Haiti at the time, and she was trying to settle a life in America. I was looked up to my mom; she makes me realize that ambition is more than anything. Growing up, I always struggle with my body, my self-image. Every time I looked in the mirror, I have never liked what I have seen, how tall I am, how my arms looked, how my cheeks looked in comparison to my nose and my mouth, how my stomach fell from the

This is my third day in Greece, it is 8:30 am. I had barely woken up in my hotel room since it was still morning I hurried out of the hotel to eat breakfast. With my bus ticket, I set off to a restaurant named Flavour Business Resto Cafe. I decided to order 2 egg eyes, three slices of bacon, rustic sausage, toast ham-cheese, pure orange juice, and coffee. All together my breakfast cost me $7. 50, once I received my breakfast, I sat at a nearby table and began to eat it. Just after I finished my breakfast, I went to the Museum of Cycladic Art, it was only about 10:30. I entered the museum with my admission pass that cost $7. 00. Immediately upon my entrance to the museum, I was amazed to find that the museum has a mix of ancient and modern art. Afterward, I learned that the museum contained a large

I wake up in my shabby bed, my eyes bloodshot and my lips facing the pillow, I let out a small scream. There's something satisfying about screaming into a pillow, nobody can hear the anger and sadness in your voice. Last night was pretty rough, Dave (my father) beat me for getting a C in maths, I tried, I really did, I just don't understand maths. It's not like art, art makes you feel something, like a world of your own, where only good happens, and abusive dads and bullies are non existent, art's filled with emotion and creativity, maths is just numbers on a page with right or wrong answers.

Junior year, known for being the most strenuous academically, and full of the most changes: you get your drivers license, take the dreadful SAT and ACT, and the list goes on and on. I feel I grew up immensely through the course of those few months, not only on an intellectual level, but socially as well. I have always been confident and enjoyed conversing with my peers, however, I was deathly afraid of public speaking, and February 13, 2015 I was forced to face those fears.

Whew! Attending college full time and working part time kept my mind busy. The one hour drive home from UNC was a respite which allowed my mind to wander. On this particular day, it was wandering between summer vacation plans and my research on the meaning of Zen when I noticed the neighbor’s large, white cat, Phaton, wrestling with a small animal on the front lawn. “Phaton! Get away from that squirrel!” Stepping out of my car, I positioned myself as a barrier. There would be no lip smacking or paw licking on my lawn. “Now that you’ve made it to the tree, you can climb to safety,” I encouraged. To my dismay, I realized that what I thought was a squirrel was instead a prairie dog and could not climb. Its den was just a block away. As if on cue, the little rodent began to run toward 2nd Avenue, the intersecting street. I felt empowered to be at the right place at the right time to save a cousin of the slaughtered mink.

Emma! Pay attention!” “Stay on task!” “Stay focused” We are in a first-grade classroom. A small dreamy girl with blonde curly ringlets sits in the front row, directly facing the teacher. The teacher signals the girl in an effort to pull her back into the class but her efforts are fruitless. The girl’s mind has already flooded with anxiety, she retreats far back into her imagination, out of the reach of her teacher. A white envelope interrupts her thoughts. Her hands, heavy with the weight of what she knew she was holding, she stuffs her mediocre report card into her backpack along with a math test she might have failed, but she doesn't know because she can’t read either.

Then the 134 arrived. I got on, showed my pass to the bus driver and

I was frantically navigating a wheel chair with my mother in it. I was avoiding stretchers, rushing nurses and orderlies through the corridors of a hospital emergency room; it was not an easy task. We came to a curtained room and patiently waited for a doctor. A lady appeared in a white gown and went through the routine medical exam. I still remember her face, her compassionate eyes, comforting words and a personal touch; she held my shoulders calmed my nerves and assured that my mother was not in any danger, she ‘will be taken care of’. Wiping my tears she handed us prescriptions and advised what to do with my mother’s mild appendicitis. We were slowly ushered to exit. I wanted to personally thank the doctor and asked for her. To my astonishment, the staff told me she was not the doctor she was a Physician Assistant a PA!