Personal Narrative: I Believe It Or Not Books

Books were like a chore to me. I preferred to be outside playing with my friends, then cooped inside the house reading a book

When we were required to read books for school, other classmates complained about it, but it was one of my favorite parts of class. Even though I didn’t always like the books, I liked to read books that I wouldn’t have picked out to read. I liked being surprised when I enjoyed a book that I didn’t think I would like.

Although I may not remember much about learning to read, I do remember a little bit more about how I learned to write. I remember that my teacher had a chalk holder that held about four pieces of chalk. Each chalk was evenly spaced out so she could draw lines on the board to look like writing paper. We learned how to make our letters on the board. We used the big loose-leaf paper with the dotted lines in between the solid lines. She said we needed that kind of paper to make sure we wrote our letters right. There would already be a letter in the top left corner and I would just try my best to make my letters look like that one. We used the whole paper to do just one letter over and over again. We wrote our letters so much and so often that, that was when I first started to get a bump on my right middle finger. I used to hold the pencil so hard because I wanted my letters to be as good and dark as the example letter. I remember the letter that I had the biggest problem printing was the capital B. It always used to turn out looking weird. The letter that I loved writing was the S’s. I think I liked making the swirls going

As a six-month-old baby books had opened up a whole entire new world of experience for me. My inspiration to learn how to read and write was encouraged by my Mother and Grandmother. This is because they read out loud to me before bed occasionally and gave me the best time of my life by introducing me to a library. By two years of age I developed speech and other communication skills. This helped me understand and develop a favorite book, “PJ Funny Bunny,” and I would stare at the pages pretending I was reading them. I would continually pretend to read with other Dr. Seuss books, Smurf pop-up books (I imagined I was a part of these for hours), sniff & scratches, and sensory books. I had just begun

About six months ago, my grandma was diagnosed with stage four colorectal cancer. Last month, a family member of mine from Vermont called to tell me that she died. The only thing I could do was ask myself “Why? Why did such a terrible thing happen to such an extradentary person?”. I mean I guess it’s natural to assume all things happen for a reason, to think there is a greater intention for our suffering, but I simply can’t think that.

Books were a major part of my youth. I was not only a very creative child, but I was also very social. I would constantly be running around our neighborhood in our hometown of Wilmington, Delaware looking for someone to play with. Wilmington was a suburban fantasy land. I vaguely remember running around my

I didn’t do a lot of reading when I was little because I didn't like most of the children's books that I could get my hands on. I found them to be boring and the stories were too short.

Some people are born with talents, others with brains, and some with beauty. However, I would like to think I was born with all the above, but most of all I was born with the innate gift of serving others. While growing up as a preacher’s kid, I witnessed my father help others by empowering them, motivating them, and praying for them. Observing how supportive my dad was of others I thought I want to do the same thing, but I knew I did not want to be a preacher. Growing up as a beautician’s daughter, I watched my mother improve others by building their self-esteem, being a listening ear, and sharing knowledge when necessary. I recall looking at my mother thinking I want to be that type of person when I grow up. I lacked the talents and creativity

When I was 12 years old, and my grade wasn’t promising. My parents all blame me, but never encourage me to bring it back up, so for a year my grade never changed. During that year my mom treat me like I wasn't her son. Me and my mom fight almost every day. The next year, everything was the same. My grade was still on the ground, until the next semester my friend encourage me and helped me to bring my grades up. They tried to help me and try to convince me to compete with them so I can bring my grades up faster. When I was 7 years old, there was a bully back in China who was in 6 grade. He beat up first, second, and third graders. I told my parents so they can do something about it, but they thought I was talking about a third grader, so they say to deal with the problem myself. For a year he was still bullying people, so my friend courage me to go with them so that we can tell the teacher. The teacher didn't do anything about it, some and my friend brought bats and beat him up. Some of my friend got hurt pretty bad, but we got him into the hospital, and after that he stopped bullying people.

It was called the Kindle. By this point, I wanted to read every book I could get my hands on. Eventually, I did not have enough space in my room to keep all of my books. The jet black Kindle that I received for my birthday gave me an electronic way to easily store and transport all of my books. At this age, I had been reading chapter books for a few years now, but I wished to expand my horizons. I wanted to read the complex books that I saw my older friends and cousins with, and the Kindle gave me an easy way to store these larger books. Ergo, the first book I got on my Kindle was a large novel called Harry Potter and The Sorcerer’s Stone. This book opened me up to a new type of reading experience, reading a series of books. At night and during meals, I would sit with my Kindle and read continuously. Sometimes, my parents would ask me to wash the dishes or do the laundry, and I would not hear them due to my total immersion in the novel. In one instance, I stayed awake until around 11:30 p.m. because I could not bear to stop turning the pages of the novel. All in all, reading a series of books for the first time assisted me in connecting with characters of novels in ways that I had never thought possible. Reading a series of novels like Harry Potter gave me the opportunity to immerse myself into a new and exciting world like never

I laid back in my hospital bed as my stomach began to growl. I politely called the nurse.

It was August and I went to the pet store to get a new dog. My previous dog ran away and I never saw him again. I knew this was going to be the dog because it was my third dog now so I know exactly how to train them. I showed the nice lady which one I wanted and she got me it. It was a really little chiwowa. I named him Paco because it rhymes with taco.

They say that cold is a subjective term to describe the feeling of the absence of heat, and that without light, there is only darkness. One can only exist with the existence of the other, and in spite of it. She could be compared to the times that this rule was ignored, when the cool day was filled with kinetic energy and the pitch-black room was spilling over with the brightest light anyone had ever seen. This is not to be confused to mean that she was full of light and warmth, but rather that she had a way of encompassing both the dark and the light, while having no ties to either side. In this way, she liked to imagine that she was different, and maybe even superior, compared to others because of her wide ranging understanding of every perspective.

After i screamed in the taxi i didn't know what to expect. LIke it was a scary sight like i

Camila awoke to the light patter of rain on her bedroom window. It took her a minute to realize where she was at the moment, then she remembered that she was in the bedroom of her new apartment. Camila tried wiggling her toes, because it was a habit of hers to do every time she woke up, but her shoes stopped her from doing so. She had fallen asleep in her tennis shoes, which made her feet ache. The young Latina, sat up, to check the time on her phone and take off her now uncomfortable shoes.