Undergraduate / Emotional essay vs. Light hearted essay! [7]

Ok, I am anything but funny so I hope my attempt at doing this won't fail as bad.
Kevin said my writings has too many modifiers so when I wrote my second essay, I tried not to use adjectives and adverbs unless it was necessary. I came to the US for four years yet I still write essays like I would in Vietnamese (people there they put as many adjective as possible).

Please read my "sad" one first and then the light hearted one:
"There was a God somewhere watching over us" -an experience that changed your life.

Both has the same story line but completely opposite tones to it.
Don't worry about the grammar for the second one because I scribbled it while waiting at the bus stop.

Father forgot to pay the rent, again; I frowned when I saw our suitcases beside the locked door. I soon discovered that our possessions decreased every time it happened. I guess Father was sick of carrying all the tables and chairs wherever we went. But he didn't throw out my animal figures though. I promised him that I would carry my own toys.

Deep in thought like an old man, I was soon distracted by our neighborhood's cat. As proud as a little tiger, she marched down the empty corridor. I counted one, two in my head, synchronized with her every step. I wondered if animals could understand music.

Father took my hand, his other arm carried our luggage. I dug into my red book bag and pulled out a dog figure. Shaking my head, I dropped it back in and took out another one. It was a dragon, so I kept digging. I felt the long and thin tail with the tips of my fingers; I grabbed the thing. A mouse, that was what I had been looking for. I smiled, fascinated by the little plastic creature. Why the mouse always win in Tom and Jerry?

I shivered when we stepped outside; it was colder than usual. The vestige of the evening storm moistened the October air. Father handed me my little jacket, and I found two holes under its sleeves. Skipping along the wet pavement, I hummed to the Happy Birthday song that was playing in the distance. I remembered the toy flute that Father bought for my sixth birthday, but nothing came out of those seven holes when I tried to blow into them. In the end, Father decided to throw the thing away. Only pure acid could sanitize the pool of spit inside the pipe. "For the sake of our environment," he chuckled.

We passed by a house had its window open. Cai luong was blasting in maxed out volume- the worst kind of music that sounded like a broken violin and shrieked like a suffocated fish and the lyrics reminded me of the funeral home. But old folks like my Father seemed to like it even though I could never understand. Why not Twinkle, twinkle little star?

"Father," I whimpered. "My tummy hurts." I stopped walking and stomped my feet on the ground as any six year old would.

He smiled and took me to the bread stand nearby. He counted every last coin in his pocket. The store keeper complained about the pennies Father handed him, so I stuck my tongue at the guy before we left. Father broke off the the hard side of the bread and gave me the rest. I devoured the thing within seconds, still craving for more. But I knew better than to ask.

"Can we please sleep on the bench in the park tonight?" I asked with my glittering eyes.

I saw Father's eyes turn red so I stopped, thinking I did something wrong. He rubbed my head and nodded. I felt the excitement and couldn't wait to tell all my friends in school about our new adventure. As we sat under the big pine tree, I sang "Twinkle twinkle little star". Father just sat there and smiled. I stared at his odd expression, trying to figure out who my Father really was. Sometimes I couldn't understand his eyes, the eyes that carried such depravity and burden. I knew he was far from perfect. I was mad at the time he scolded me because I didn't brush my teeth, or the time he told me to stop picking my nose. But it was all because of that smile that enabled me to enjoy my childhood. Oh, and my animal figures too. Who needs five star hotels when we could see millions of stars under this big black sky. And taking a bath was definitely overrated.

Undergraduate / "There was a God somewhere watching over us" -an experience that changed your life. [9]

Topic: Describe an experience that changed your life. (500 words)- Total: 523

Grammars and other feed back would greatly be appreciated. Thank you

I buried my nose into my father's damp, wrinkled shirt. The scent of fresh lumber, blended with the aroma of cheap washing detergent rushed through my lungs. I put my arms around Father's shoulders as my body swayed back and forth to the rhythm of the steps he took along the empty street. Distant echoes of footsteps belonging to the late-night pedestrians on concrete pavement interrupted the empty atmosphere.

My heart stopped. Perhaps it was just the sound of the incessant rain that separated my pulse from the silence of the night, or the water had drowned my agitated soul. I fell asleep as the silhouette of the moon rose above the black clouds.

I dreamed of the days that Father and I had spent together under the roof of our decrepit apartment, envisioned every mended part of the walls where the water had penetrated after each monsoon season. I missed the insipid meals of rice and soy sauce and Father's late night stories. The expression of the landlord when he slammed the door on us when we were short on rent disturbed the memory and became my darkest nightmare.

An icy drop of rain woke me up. Father was still walking, carrying me on his back. Street lamps flickered to life one after another until two lines of light ran through the endless pathway. I tried to recall when we ate our last meal. The thought of the taste and crispiness of hot bread made my mouth water.

We passed a nearby house that was celebrating a birthday party. I could see colorful balloons floating around the dining room. The fragrance of roasted beef covertly escaped the house into the cold and humid air. We waited until the Happy Birthday song had faded into the distance before we continued our journey. The song reminded me of the flute that Father carved out of wood for my sixth birthday. Even though only air would come out of those seven holes when I tried to blow on it, he would pretend to whistle along with the silent song.

How long had it been since Father started walking? Two...three hours? I tried not to let my tears mar his shirt and ruin its perfect smell. I prayed. Maybe God is watching over us at this moment. Maybe being homeless for a few days wouldn't be so bad after all. Maybe the midnight stars would fade, yield their place for the first rays of dawn. Maybe...

Eighty-three months later, I looked at the men sitting along the sidewalk from my car window. The dirty faces, the deep expressions engaged every corner of my memory. I couldn't describe the feeling. It wasn't pity; it wasn't pain, but rather nostalgia. I stepped out of the car and headed toward the homeless men. A little child about six years old reached them before me, talking and laughing with their poor souls. I smiled. It wasn't just me that changed from the inside, but the whole world has changed. It gave me hope that this wretched society is heading toward the light at the end of the tunnel.

Undergraduate / Imagery describing my college campus [2]

Please help me with this first paragraph, I'm trying to describe the college campus. I'm never good at imagery so this might sound a little forceful. Grammars and other errors point out would greatly appreciated. Thanks

The sunlight dances across the serene water surface, reflects off the burgundy brick walls in harmony with the exquisite fields of flowers that surrounds the grand chapel. Sitting on top of a hill overlooking the beautiful lake with unbridled flows of water that gently hitting against the grassy meadow, the colonial blended with modern taste architecture buildings of Dallas Baptist University reminded me of my home town in Vietnam, where I often spent my childhood enjoying the tranquility of the local fields of rice.

My family moved to Saigon, one of the main cities in my country when I turned six. Leaving the countryside and joining the noisiness of the city nights that were filled with profanity and raging sounds of motorcycles on the busy streets, I was at lost, embracing the nostalgia of the impoverished sights of the meager hamlets I left behind. Growing up in an environment where crimes had adulterated the people's mind, where agony of rejection had consumed their every beings, to my small eyes, the world was a decay of the new generation that losing its grip of reality. It started to become clear that Christian Ministry is my calling.

A different vital segment of society- the outcasts of civilization, prisoners are losing the race against the condemnations from the world. God has given me the desire to help the inmates to carry their crosses. Christian Studies and Education program offered at DBU will help me open the doors of the hearts of these prodigal sons and daughters to come back home again.