Personal Narrative About Moving To Scott City, Kansas

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Change The staring of beady eyes as you saunter into class while no familiar face is in your classroom and then sitting with complete strangers who you will have to go to school with for the remainder of the year. Moving into a different school is complicated. That was about to be my life when my parents were driving us home from our grandparents’ farm in Scott City, Kansas and said, “What do you think about moving to Scott City.” My jaw plummeted. Moving was one of my worst fears right behind heights. How was I supposed to abandon all of my classmates and my whole life in Spring Hill to go to a puny, rural, western Kansas school. My brother was immediately ecstatic because he adored the farm. Do not get me wrong, I had affection towards the farm as well, but I would have never contemplated moving. Change can be rough, but little did I understand that I would fall in love with Scott City and the fascinating community I was about to be sucked into. Before I was told we were moving, our family had been paying a visit to my grandparent’s farm. We traveled six hours to the farm about twice a year and those were some of my most cherished memories. Accommodating our grandparents with wheat harvest was one of my beloved times of the year. All of my mother’s side of the family would trek to Scott City to help for about a week and we would all leave exhausted, but satisfied. My father and I would also visit my grandparents the opening weekend of pheasant hunting to get up early and

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