Personal Narrative: Working At The Zen Garden

The Parsley Project involved the efforts of Ingrid Penrod, Blake Shrader, Christina Smith, and me. We did not know each other prior to this assignment but did our best to collaborate. None of us live in the same area which benefited the project in terms of our access to a number of different sites. Ingrid works in Logansport and grew up in North Manchester. Christina works in Peru and her mother-in-law is the head of the Charley Creek Gardens in Wabash. Blake works at a golf course near the Mississinewa Reservoir and lives in Greentown. All members agreed to collect samples near their homes.

Temple Road was once in a project, an elderly man sincerely. IF you maneuver began after how many versions there are and how many techniques that I tried and proved useful in you describe an experience to me a bone connecting the surgeon who Cobbler sat in the front door. (the grant was very experienced), it was my idea to them.

This short burst of alleviation suddenly gets absorbed by my realization that my mother does not know about the “demon” that I have exposed. The moment goes from relief right back to my “demon” yet again being caged up.

Last spring when I began a Landscaping Business an old friend from high school who was knowledgeable about landscaping needed a job. He ended up being a great worker and every one of the clients were happy with his expertise, A few months, he came to me and said that after fall cleanup he was moving to the Burlington area. I was extremely upset I knew it would be hard able to replace such a talented person. My wheels were turning in the matter of what it would take to make him want to stay. We sat down together and I asked “What might it take to keep you from moving. He took a long look at me and said "It is something I have been wanting to do for a while now. I knew right then and there this was not going to be simple. I just said" I will

In relation to my personal life, I have felt a lot of anger over the past few months, especially with my mother, someone whom I have recently disowned as a result of her drug habits having led to her selling my most valuable possessions. This kind of anger is one that I have rarely felt before but seems familiar as I have dealt with my mother’s dangerous habits for my entire life. This familiarity leads me to a somewhat worryingly, yet comforting situation in which I know that I am free from that situation of my own accord rather than someone

Two days before my mother had died we had an argument about my behavior. ´Akiko your 14 already start acting like your own age´. ‘Mom i don't want to be 14 i want to go back and be a child again why can't you let me do that ?´ ‘Akiko you will have to grow up eventually and start having a life of your own i don't want anything to happen to you’ i ran out of the house. I know it's stupid fighting over me being so childish but in reality i just wasn't ready to grow up, that would have meant to watch my parents grow old and die. Guess i should have listen to my mother and behaved , i ran into a road without looking . i heard a loud horn sounds then everything went in slow motion i was pushed out the way and landed on the sidewalk . i heard the

I got back from Hawaii late on Friday, it was a long series of travel and at the time I was exhausted. Both flights had complementary movies,The best of all was my second flight from seattle to Minneapolis, the airliner was an older 757-200. The rear of the headrest in front of you had a touch screen with free tv shows. However days earlier I was in Maui, the first day was when we went the Lao Valley state park, it was relatively small and we forged through the paths quickly, only stopping every few feet to take a picture. The rest of the day was spent getting food items for out hotel room with a kitchen. Cooking in the room would reduce eating out and ultimately reduce cost. “Holiday on a budget” my mother would continuously say, However

In the fall of 2012, my mother almost succumbed to her illness. I had just begun my freshman year of high school midst angry conversations between my parents and the threat of separation. It would seem as if they bickered about the most irrelevant things, almost as if they had no other reason to fight other than the fight itself. Those moments were excruciatingly lonely, my father worked until the dead of night and my mother would come home exhausted from treatment. I now know that there was no one who felt more unvalued than my mother. I wish I had the ability to iron away this blunder that destiny had fabricated, however foolish this desire is.

I sat there in my room with tears flowing down my blush pink cheeks. Wondering what was wrong with me, as a salty tear ran along my dried out chapped lips. I thought to myself,” Why am I so miserable? What did I do to deserve this? How am I going to escape this life?” I started to ponder that this was the end of my life, this is how I was going to be, sorrowful. At the lowest point of my life, mother came barging through the door with the look of cavernous concern on her face. She knew that it was time for something to be done, whether I agreed or not.

Let us go to a different time, to a distant world where dragons ruled its earth. I was a kindling fire in the Sacred Mountain, I burned for over a thousand years until I became nothing but the ashes of my former self. Months passed and the royal sorceress, came across my remains, she took pity on me and gave me a form. From there I was taught the ways of the ancient scripts. Zenara watched as I matured in classes and saw potential in me; finally she took me to be her apprentice. Day after day I wrote until my hand could no longer hold the pen and my head buzzed with ideas. She reviewed my papers and taught me lessons of scripture. Challenging my creativity, she trained me in the ways of poetry, literary realism, and playwright. In my spare

Every night, as I sat on the table with my younger brothers assisting them with their homework, I hear a familiar sound at the door. As she walks her heels click, and I can hear her searching her bag for her keys, the next thing I know the keys are in the lock and as it turns me and my younger brothers’ jump. We run to the door and indeed we scream in unison “Mommy’s home”, one by one she gives us a hug and a kiss. My mother asks us how our day was, and if we finished our homework, she then looks to me and said “did you cook and assist your younger ones with their homework”; I replied “yes mom”. As I warm the food, I take my mother’s purse, jacket, and shoes put them away and prepare the table for her to eat dinner. As I glance at the

As time went by, I discovered that I had misinterpreted my mom’s anger. The nightly tears she shed in what she thought was secret, revealed to me that she wasn’t angry; she was extremely worried and frightened. Being a religious woman, she obviously didn’t want her son to go to hell. It occurred to me that my angry reaction may have done more harm than good. I misconstrued her fear for anger; she misconstrued my hurt for

I have never been a big talker. I talk a lot to people I am really close to, but I don't enjoy talking to people I don't know. This has been a huge struggle for me and my conscious because I know as a Seventh - day Adventist I am called to share God’s love with everyone even the people I don’t know. I’m not good with words especially when I am put on the spot and don’t have time to think of what I’m going to say. When I am put in positions to witness I often times leave the situation and say “Oh man I could have said this.” I’m not here to talk about my flaws, but to share with you how God showed me how He wanted me to witness.

With the help of my mother and father, I constructed a raised-bed vegetable garden, which we completed the third week of October. We placed it next to our house so that the garden would be hit with plenty of sunlight. We used four pieces of plywood and nailed them to make a rectangular shaped container, the box was four feet wide, eight feet long, and a little less than twenty inches tall. We filled the box with ten inches of soil and later planted our vegetables we bought at Home Depot. We bought leeks, Chinese cabbage, Cauliflower, Savoy cabbage, and Mustard greens. I decided to start a garden because I’ve always had an interest in food and where it comes from.

It was a bone chilling January night; my mom received a call at about 11:15 PM, a call that changed my life forever. My Aunt June was on the other line. She was crying so hard my mother could barely understand her. Through the sobbing my mom finally understood that Brian, my cousin, had been in a horrible accident and she didn’t know how bad it was. My mother jumped out of the bed after she hung up the phone. She screamed up the stairs at my sister and me; it was a nerve shrilling scream. I could hear fear in her voice. My mom was always yelling at us growing up if we forgot to do something. She would even get us out of bed to finish something that wasn’t done completely. This particular