Undergraduate / "Mr. Bingley was only a fish" - Yale Supplement-any topic [12]

Prompt: You have already told us about yourself in the Common Application, with its list of activities, the Short Answer, and the Personal Essay. While we leave the topic of your second essay entirely up to you, try telling us something about yourself that you believe we cannot learn elsewhere in your application. Please limit yourself to fewer than 500 words.

Let me preface this by saying no animals were harmed (at least, not intentionally) in the unfolding of this story.
At 9:47 pm, March 9, 2009, Mr. Bingley was found dead. In the hour after his death, the world stopped for a few moments to honor this small creature. Well, maybe not the whole world, but my world at least.

Mr. Bingley was my iridescent blue pet beta fish. He sat on my desk, left of my laptop, for the few months prior, since about Christmas or the New Year. He was a good fish...as good as a pet fish could be. Still, I never cared much for Mr. Bingley. He had been purchased in a moment of whimsy and excitement, selected only for his beauty from among the hundred others on the shelf. I pushed the limit on changing his tank, waiting a week and a half instead of the recommended three days. When I did change it, I was far from gentle, scooping him up with my oily hand and yelling "Geronimooo!!!" with the proper, gradual decrescendo when pouring him back into his freshly cleaned tank. I needed to compensate: if I could not take good care of him while he was alive, the least I could do was show him some respect after he was dead. So at 10:14 that night, I set Mr. Bingley afloat on the lake behind my house. His resting place was a small floating catacomb, hurriedly constructed from cardboard and stationery; the vigil, marked and ennobled by candlelight. After setting him afloat, I sat on my dock, silently watching him go, my flashlight acting as a spotlight to guide him on his way. For a while he just floated. And then he was gone.

Yes, in reality Mr. Bingley was only a fish. But to me, Mr. Bingley is something greater. He taught me life does not consist solely of productivity or competition; sometimes life is just art, beauty. He reminded me to be humble in nature and reverent to everyone, to be faithful in the simple and the small. Most importantly, Mr. Bingley reminded me that in my life there is more than me and that I don't live for only myself.

Comments and critiques are gladly welcomed!!

Undergraduate / Option #2 for Yale Supplement Essay--God, Beauty, cousin Eve [2]

Prompt: You have already told us about yourself in the Common Application, with its list of activities, the Short Answer, and the Personal Essay. While we leave the topic of your second essay entirely up to you, try telling us something about yourself that you believe we cannot learn elsewhere in your application. Please limit yourself to fewer than 500 words.

"I never liked jazz music because jazz music doesn't resolve. But...one night...I saw a man playing the saxophone. I stood there for fifteen minutes, and he never opened his eyes. After that I liked jazz music. Sometimes you have to watch somebody love something before you can love it yourself. It is as if they are showing you the way. I used to not like God because God didn't resolve. But that was before any of this happened."

-Blue Like Jazz, by Donald Miller

My cousins are adorable. They came down to visit a few weekends ago. My favorite one is Eve, the youngest. I know it's terrible to have favorites, but something about this little four year old who screams "We're ready!!!!" to her two older sisters while she and I hide in the closet during hide and seek (unknowingly yet blatantly giving away our hiding spot) makes my heart melt. I love Eve for her lack of inhibitions and unreservedness, her naive perceptions, so clear to me. To see this small person live and be so dynamic, to watch her curiosity guide her and help her grow, leaves me in sheer awe and amazement. It's feelings like these that give me a glimpse into what God thinks of me.

Despite my numbness in the daily grind of academic life, I have experienced an immense amount of beauty lately. I have seen beauty in the hazel eyes of my baby cousin, her awe of my ability to complete the simple task of making hot chocolate. I've seen beauty at Sandy Neck Beach, peering out a sunroof with a beautiful friend, gazing at a sapphire ocean, wondering how any one body could cover such a vast expanse. I have seen it I people the most: in the sparkle in my mom's eyes when she greets me good morning, in the timber of my father's voice when he arrives home, in my friend peeping in the window of my science class just to wave hello. Every time I catch a glimmer of this illusive being named beauty, I remember who made it.

God loves me. He slow dances with me when I cry, listens to my petty and utterly insignificant concerns. To Him, I am Eve, this beautiful little child that truly doesn't know anything but that He loves despite my ignorance. He made the world beautiful for me by wrapping it in ribbons of color, filling it with the surprising, confusing, amazing people. He has held my hand when going through, what seemed at the time, like the depths of hell, never letting me suffer without a purpose, always knowing it had the ultimate design of drawing me back to Him. He loves me despite knowing the nasty things I've thought about those that love me, the selfish things I've done to gain admiration or attention. He'll love me forever and He'll never, ever, ever change. And that's why I love Him.

If anyone has read my "mr. bingley" essay, this would be in place of that one so a comparison of which one you like better would be most helpful, although just critiques on this one are good too as I might be able to use this for a different application.