Undergraduate / The little boy- Stanford Supplement [8]

What matters to you, and why? (100 to 250 words)
I got out of the car, stretched my arms, and read the faint words "Manipireddy Palli" on a dusty yellow sign. This little town that was my home not less than 5 years ago seemed a lot different.

As I walked, I encountered many heartbreaking sites of almost torn down houses and sick children. All the women and men and children I passed were awe-spired at how healthy I looked- for the outline of their ribs and bones were blatantly visible through their skin.

At the end, right before I reached my grandmother's house, a little boy, about the age of 6 or 7, crawled up to me slowly. It wasn't until he came up to my skirt and pulled on it, that I realized him dragging his paralyzed leg behind him. I thought he would beg for money, but he only said five little words, "can you help me?"

The little boy had his leg amputated due to Polio- a disease that had been eliminated in many areas but still prevailed in poor regions. For there are thousands of talented doctors in the world, but what is the purpose if there are still many in the world who are uncured.

What matters are the unforgotten regions- the towns that have lost hope- because everybody deserves a chance. It took a little boy to open my eyes to something I should have realized a long time ago. Now it's just time to awaken the rest of the world.

Undergraduate / the children full of hope (COMMON APP ESSAY) [6]

Some students have a background or story that is so central to their identity that they believe their application would be incomplete without it. If this sounds like you, then please share your story.

It was 12:05 AM on November 24, 2010; I ran down the stairs excited- for it's been 5 minutes since I became a teenager. I thought maybe I'd encounter a cake or at least some birthday wishes, after all everybody knew I've been waiting for this day for the past 6 months. But all I see is my dad, surrounded not by party decorations or a cake for me but by beer bottles.

"What?" he yelled.
"Nothing." I whispered as I ran back up in tears.
He's done this every day for the past thirteen years; I didn't know why I expected something different that day.
My dad later became the reason I lost it- lost the trust I put in others. I used to find cigarette packets in my dad's pocket all the time, but he would lie, claiming that he only used it to store change in them. I trusted him enough then to not even open it. He used to bring lots of lottery tickets home. When I asked him where he got them, he claimed that he found them in the trashcan in a gas station. I respected him enough to believe him.

What at first were just lies from my dad began to become reasons for self-doubt. Maybe it was my fault that he acted this day. Maybe I'm just not a good enough daughter. He brought out the insecurities in me in ways that became unhealthy. As birthday by birthday passed, I still kept looking for that one day when he wished me and celebrated with me. I only wanted his love- for it would be the greatest present of all.

When nothing got better, I tried to stay away from home as much as possible by engulfing myself in other activities. I was tired of coming home and feeling worse about myself day by day. As I went from one activity to another, one day I found myself at the Children's Cavalry Home with my fellow Student Council leaders. It was a home filled with children who were abandoned by their parents, but not a single one was sad. The smiles on their faces were larger than others I've ever seen; they had a certain perspective on life that is so innocently resilient, that living and helping them with activities becomes more of a lesson for the helper than the helped. Soon, I started to spend hours and hours to look after those kids. Receiving the love and support from me, they tended to share their happiness with me.

From them I learned to stop looking at myself through my dad's eyes, but rather through my own. I became stronger than I've ever been before- now you see me looking ahead and focusing on the future rather than getting held back in the present or the past. I guess, everybody has somebody like my dad in their life- somebody who will stop them from their goals, from their future, and from being who they are. But, it is one's responsibility to look past it and react healthy to the setbacks.

Now, I stopped running down the stairs for every birthday looking for happiness through my dad- for I learned to create happiness through myself.