Personal Narrative: Olivia

Florence and Isabella were the most welcoming residents at the Mary Manning Walsh Home. Florence and I always played bingo with each other and would usually win. I would take her to her room telling her what it’s like at Xavier High School. Florence found it great that Xavier makes us do Christian Service and she recommends all of us to come to the Mary Manning Walsh Home. She stood out to me because she was always open. Florence made it easy to be open with her after she told her story about herself. She was so kind and always had a smile on her face even if she was going through hard times. Florence would always pray for me and I remember to pray for her. Isabella was another woman I had a deep connection with. I learned a lot from this woman because she taught me to be more thankful in life. She told me to pray every night and to see God in everything. Isabella and I would talk a lot about religion but we talked about colleges as well. Most of her family went to Villanova including her and she would tell me about her college experience. This woman stood out to me because I feel I saw Jesus in her. Isabella seemed so close to Jesus and every time she was present to me, there was a spiritual feeling around her. With people like Isabella, there was agape love at Mary Manning Walsh Home with all the

Yesterday, while in her care the beloved cat, Doodle Dee, had escaped. Consequently, 14 years old Olivia is terrified to tell her grandma about this absolute tragedy. She hates confrontations of any kind and the loss of the cat was bound to bring a serious one with her hot-tempered Grandma. Olivia is an extremely shy teenager. Her trademark clothing says a lot about her: long black skirt, sneakers, and a leather jacket as to not to be noticed and, most of the time wears sunglasses. In addtion, she spends most of her time in her room alone on her iPad.

It started as typical Tuesday with a couple of court hearings, maybe an arrest, but nothing to exciting. That all changed at dawn.

On April 26th,1999 I emerged into the world a happy baby given the name Bethany Gavin. I’m now in year 12 and I attend Cooks Hill Campus, Big Picture. My education began here in year 10 after leaving three years of home schooling and have grown as a student as the years have gone on.

Johnna Brown. The lovely mother of two, and the amazing wife any man would dream of, the best pet spoiler there is, and the perfect friend. That right there can say so much about someone without even knowing who they are. Johnna, my mother, is such a talented person. Along with this, she is also a mentor and therapist. Last, she devotes her every waking seconds to the ones she loves.

Mackenzie, I'm glad to see someone with the same beliefs as I. Religion was never forced upon me as a child, but I did go to church every Sunday and also to bible school. I went through a stage of questions as I was going through my confirmation. These questions that I came up with made me question everything because what I asked, always went unanswered. During a mission trip that I went on with my church my senior year, I was able to see that nothing can truly be answered by anyone but God. Many may disagree but to me its what I believe. After hearing stories of people struggling in their lives from taking care of a family with no money, having no food to eat, being homeless. I was able to realize that God put these people on earth to teach

August 15th was so memorable for me because it was the day I gave my daughter up for adoption. It was one long and hard process for me to go through, but I knew it was for the best. I needed someone who could give my child the stability and maturity that I knew I couldn't provide at the time. It took me a few weeks, but out of the 5 couples I interviewed, I finally decided to go with a couple named Glen and Lisa to be the proud parents of my baby girl. They had been trying to concieve for the last 8 and a half years, but none of the available treatments seemed to work for them. I chose Glen and Lisa because they had this upbeat energy about them. They were always smiling and being positive, even when the worse situations occured. They were also very well respected throughout their community, and didn't hesitate to help out at shelters, donate anything and everything they could get their hands on, and even volunteer at the community center after school to help kids with their studies. They are inspirational people if

Home is the beginning of one’s book. It is where your story begins, forms its characters, shows its purpose, and reveals its ora. This is how mine is written. Home is on the buzzing highway down a bumpy gravel road. It’s Brandon, Mississippi. It is the only home I’ve ever known. Home is the smell of homemade biscuits and tomato gravy on Saturday mornings. It is “Bless Your Heart” and “Yes Mam” and “No Sir”. The little bedroom in the back of a grey double-wide where Carrie Underwood songs played and where I learned to curl my hair and put on mascara. My cousins and I running around with mason jars, chasing the lightning bugs. Bar-B-q on the back porch and never meeting a stranger. It is the morals learned and the identity

I remember that it hurt, looking at her hurt. A beautiful line, no doubt, but I mustn’t take credit. I remember seeing her at her best. I remember telling myself that she would get better. I remember seeing what she would post on Facebook and pretending that I thought she wasn’t slowly killing herself. I remember seeing the blades sitting on her desk and throwing them in the trashcan and acting like they didn’t hold any significance, only to repeat the process the next weekend. I remember hearing her stories about falling out of that damned tree and telling myself, “Oh yeah. Those scars could totally be scrapes from the tree bark.” I remember ignoring the brokenness of her smile. I remember not doing anything about it, and I remember foolishly telling myself that it was all in my head.

After Finals, I came back to San Pedro for the summer. You wouldn't think the place would have changed that much in a year, but it sure as hell felt like I was living in another country. Most of the guys I went to high school had moved on by then and the whole town seemed so fucking strange.

She was upset with me. She didn’t have to be but she didn’t know that. We argued all the way to Youth Group and when we got there, we ignored each other. I wasn’t mad, in fact I was joyful and eager. It was clear, however, that she wasn’t very happy. I felt bad but at the same time I didn’t. Finally, it came. Nick, our leader, called us in for his lesson. I tried hard to fight back a grin as I watched Carmyn strut angrily towards the doors of the church. I went in and stood beside her. She didn’t say a word or even look at me. It was hard not to smile but I pushed through. The lights dimmed down. The first song started. We stood in silence while the people around us began singing and praising. After that the second song came on. But this time, the church sat silently because it wasn’t a song for praise. It was our song.

M’s friends had modeled and spoken of their faith through word as well as through deed. Their actions had been consistent and genuine. Christ was honored and unconditional love flowed abundantly. M’s decision to choose a life as a Christ- follower was made as a result of acceptance, support and a loving community. She now has a vital place of belonging in order to be able to grow and flourish.

When I woke up Mandy was right next to me running her fingers through my hair. I could feel my heavy heart along with the wet cheeks and raw eyes. “Hey Hazel how are you”? Mandy said is this sweet calm tone that I’ve rarely heard her use. I look at her and my sight becomes blurry I roll over to fall back asleep. She was still there when I woke up the next day she looked tired with heavy bags under her eyes. I didn’t want to leave my house but I need to get stuff for the funeral in a few days. Mandy got up and asked, “What about school?” “Right now that’s on the back burner” I replied in a very groggy voice.

I sit through the boring lecture about amarras day. Im her echo, a backup. When she dies, I take her place. I'm like a carbon copy of her. Besides the little E tatooed on the back of my neck. Natalie, my “mentor” As scarlett calls her. She's talking away. She loves talking. She calls for a break because she can clearly see how bored I am. I go to our tiny kitchen and grab a snack. I'm not supposed to have a name, but scarlett gave me the name eva, Short for evangeline. When I was younger, I never understood why I had to read whatever amarra wrote or look at the pictures Natalie gives me of her life. By the things that amarra has written to me, She doesn't like and or want me. Shes always have said that I will never have what she has. Shes criticizes me all the time. Calling me a faker, a ghost. I'm glad I never have to meet her.

I sit through the boring lecture about amarras day. Im her echo, a backup. When she dies, I take her place. I'm like a carbon copy of her. Besides the little E tatooed on the back of my neck. Natalie, my “mentor” As scarlett calls her. She's talking away. She loves talking. She calls for a break because she can clearly see how bored I am. I go to our tiny kitchen and grab a snack. I'm not supposed to have a name, but scarlett gave me the name eva, Short for evangeline. When I was younger, I never understood why I had to read whatever amarra wrote or look at the pictures Natalie gives me of her life. By the things that amarra has written to me, She doesn't like and or want me. Shes always have said that I will never have what she has. Shes criticizes me all the time. Calling me a faker, a ghost. I'm glad I never have to meet her.