Undergraduate / "A reason to everything that happens" app essay- revision? [3]

Hi. This is my main common app essay. I'm planning to submit all of my applications possibly by the end of this week. I was hoping to get a last comment or so of the essay before sending in the final copy. I really hope to make this essay the best essay I ever wrote. But I feel like this essay is missing something or not quite perfect yet. I'm open to any advice and grammatical corrections. Please tell me if the essay flows and if you could make out the purpose of the essay, etc. THANKS ALOT!!!

"I'm sinking. I'm dying. God, please save me!" These were the words I repeated over and over in my mind as I tightly gripped Patrick. I was walking my 3-year old godbrother back to his mother. I was sure I was walking towards the shore. I was getting closer and closer, but how could this be? The water was getting deeper and deeper. I felt Patrick's grip tightening around my neck. I pushed against the water even more forcefully, but as I did so, I realized my feet were becoming more and more unstable. Next thing I knew, I was fighting with the current, flaring my arms and legs all over as I unsuccessfully attempted to swim and get a sip of the air. Due to my inability to swim, I cried out for help over towards my sister and her friends who I thought were just a few yards away. My words were drowned by the cry of Patrick, who struggled to breathe, climbing on my shoulders and leaving scratches and finger marks all over my neck. I knew that the only thing around me was the vast Connecticut ocean now. I was fighting for air, gasping, but instead, I tasted the unpleasant salty taste of the sea water. My lungs were filling up quickly, and I knew I had no time. That's when I decided to hold onto Patrick's hand and imitate the position of a swimmer, fiercely waving my arms and legs around. It was my last attempt for survival. But, I was still under water; I used up my last sip of oxygen. Therefore, I prepared to say goodbye and lowered my legs. Then, I felt the warm, soothing pebbles of the shore under my feet. They were just there, like magic. I stood up, and the water only came up to my waist. It was unbelievable and yet so relieving. I suddenly realized I was holding onto Patrick. As I lifted him up, I saw Patrick unconscious with a swollen belly and foam coming out of his nose. An old man ran up to me and asked if I needed help. I handed Patrick over to him and dragged myself up to the dry sand. I plopped down, and soon I too went unconscious. Because I was too young, I still didn't realize the deeper meaning that event would have on my future.

Another event would strike me and influence my perspective on life. My family and I were hurriedly getting ready to go to church on one Sunday morning. It was a cold winter day, and the sky was unsurprisingly gray and gloomy. We were running late; therefore, I knew it would be one of those days that my father would exceed his usual 70 mile/hr limit. We were speeding down the empty highway when all of a sudden, the car shook. Once again, I took a quick sip of the air and held my breath instinctively, as if the silence would alleviate the suspenseful and yet perilous situation. My dad turned the wheel, but it didn't help. My timid sister screamed out in horror. I squeezed my eyes shut tightly, hoping to hide and escape. My mother just sat there in shock. I was watching my life spin by in my head. Our car was spinning around and around on the frozen pavement of the highway in slow motion. It had snowed the night before, so the ice had accumulated. After what felt like a century, the car came to a halt. We all just sat there in silence, dazed. A few seconds later, my father broke the silence, "Thank goodness, there were no cars coming. We probably would've been dead by now." Then, we continued our trip to the church safely.

I still don't know exactly how the water got deeper as I walked toward shore, or how on that particular Sunday there were no other cars except for ours. However, one thing's for sure- I survived with my godbrother that sunny day in Connecticut and years later on that silent, icy highway. I believe there's a reason to everything that happens. Appreciation and optimism were two valuable products of my miracles. I started to appreciate what I had and the life I was granted. I took on mistakes and failures as a stepping stone for greater achievement and a better outcome. I believe there is a reason why I exist. By the end of sophomore year, it just came to me that I wanted to pursue a career in the field of ophthalmology. I want to help those who, like me, have to worry about not breaking their fragile glasses while playing sports or feel almost blind and self conscious without them. My new goals in life are to focus my studies on biology and medicine and to become a successful ophthalmologist. It's time that I take control and choose my own path, not just wait around for other events to strike me. I won't risk my short, precious life to scream out desperately for help; I want to take advantage of the valuable opportunities that I've been granted, and help those who are reaching out for my hand. I believe I was given those chances to prove that I could fulfill my goals and make a change in this world. There is one last miracle that I still anticipate, and that is to walk out of an operation room with a sigh of relief and joy that I have just changed and possibly saved someone else's life by giving them the perfect vision that they have long been waiting for.

Undergraduate / "walking around with a meaningless life" - Common App - Brown [4]

Hi, this is a rough draft of my supplement essay for Brown. I'm applying for Regular Decision, and I wanted to write a really good essay for admission. I would really, really appreciate any constructive criticism or advice on the essay.

Q: What is an academic experience, project, class or book that has influenced or inspired you?

I thought they were all just splattered ink on a parched white paper, written merely for entertainment. I never realized what books can do to ones mind until I read this novel, Tuesdays with Morrie by Mitch Albom, the first book I ever shed tears for.

I picked up this book last summer in the hope of escaping the pressure and stress from college preparation and school summer assignments. After I read the first few chapters, I felt the book was narrating my own feelings and thoughts about life and was consequently drawn into the book even more. In the midst of chaos, it was as if those few hours I dedicated myself to the book were the most important hours of the day.

With Morrie, his old professor, as his mentor, Mitch, the narrator of this novel, was able to reincarnate himself in life, transforming a man who was once motivated by material wealth into a man who is motivated by a passion to love. I, like Mitch, was looking for that one person who could understand me, guide my young and searching soul to see the world as a more profound place, and help me make my way through it. I found myself meditating and challenging my ever so premature plans for the future.

Before reading this novel, I considered myself as one of the many students who just studied to get good grades and who just got good grades to get into a good college; I always looked at the future inch by inch, only observing the immediate but transient benefits, never even bothering to consider the broad future as a whole. I realized that I was "walking around with a meaningless life", as Morrie put it. I had to devote myself to the community around me and create something for myself that had a purpose.

Since I was young, I dreamed of becoming a doctor, honestly, partly because I liked playing with the stethoscope and partly because of the grand benefits it had to offer. However, I realized that those were materialistic reasons that I was wrongfully chasing after. Now, I dream of becoming an ophthalmologist, not because I like the clean white attire that I'd be wearing nor because of the money I'd be making, but because I would like to treat those unfortunate people, who like me also had to suffer the painful inconveniences from having to wear glasses, or those whose eyes have hindered them from approaching the things that may have made a life changing difference. Then, once I do succeed in accomplishing my goal, I would turn back to the novel, Tuesday with Morrie, and say "Thank you."