Writing Feedback / The best day of my life (so far) was. tell a story that allows us to experience your best day [2]

For Virginia Tech.
I have exactly 300 words, and the limit is 250...

Thanks so much

March 19th, 2006

Finally the day has arrived. I have been waiting for this day for 10 years, and there is no way I could wait any longer. I've always wondered what it feels like to stand next to them, to talk with them, to live with them... Before I can only see them by flipping through old photographs and occasionally hear their voices over the phone. But now, I only have to wait one more day...

My grandma woke up earlier than usual. As I was walking into the kitchen, I saw her preparing my breakfast. I immediately went into the kitchen and helped her; I saw her eyes were flooded with tears and her hand shaked softly. I asked her not to worry because I will keep in touch with her often. She reminded me not to give them anymore stress and be respectful to them. I promised her and ate my last meal with her.

My aunt was already down stairs with the taxi waiting for me. As I put my belongings in the trunk, she handed me a picture of them and wished me good luck. I told her that I'll miss her very much because she took care of me for ten years while they weren't around. After we arrived at the air port, we waved our last good bye.

After eighteen hours of flight, I finally landed in JFK International Airport. As I was walking out from port 14, I heard "Hey Si Yuan! Over here!" I took out the picture and compared the figures in the picture with a couple standing in front of me; I was speechless. The 3 of us hugged tightly, refusing to let go. "Mom, Dad. I thought I will never see you again. I missed you so much."

Undergraduate / Include an image, share its story with us. [2]

So this is my maryland CP essay. the limit is 500 words, but i have 638. I don't know where to trim down, and there are couple grammar errors. thanks so much

Include an image. share its story with us

The automated door bell rings as the front door opens, and customers are greeted with, "Hi! How are you? How can I help you today?" This is the phrase that I have to say everyday while working in my parent's sushi restaurant, and my responses are slowly becoming robotic.

My life as a "restaurant kid" started when I moved to America to reunite with my parents after 10 years living in China with my grandma. Ever since then, my true "home" has always been inside of the restaurant, among the countless plates that I have shattered and a pressure cooker that exploded when I was curious about "what would happen if I clogged the steam vent with rice". As a boy I would play hide and seek with my little brother, lock myself inside the industrial sized walk in freezer, and sleep in the little storage place under the cash register. I felt like Christopher Columbus, exploring the restaurant with a curious mind, experimenting with foods like a scientist, and washing the dishes like I was in a pool. But as I grew older, my parents began to give me jobs to do so I can relief some of their stress.

When I was entering 7th grade, my dad assigned me an important job. It was his job as a chef and a restaurant manager. My objective was to make sushi and to serve food to the customers, but this was impossible without any proper training. So during the summer, my dad told me to stand next to him and watch him make sushi because this was the way how he learned and became a sushi chef 16 years ago. At first glance, I thought making sushi was a walk in the park; just lay down the seaweed, put some rice on, flip it over, put some fish in, roll it up, and cut it up. Unfortunately, when it was my chance to make the sushi, it was a total disaster.

"I think you are better off working in Subway and make subs than making sushi with me." My dad jokingly said. "Making sushi is like an art, it takes time and patience. It took me 3 years to master it."

Although it took me 7 months to learn basics, I was still nowhere near the level that my dad was on. However, knowing how to do the simple things did reduce some of the work my dad was doing; in fact, he took his first day off of work since the restaurant opened. Eventually, I began washing dishes, taking care of customers, dealing with customer complaints, etc.

As I grew older, often times I found myself stuck between being a "restaurant kid" and a regular high school student. Every day after school, I have to go to the restaurant and help out, while at the same time finishing my school work in the kitchen. Sometimes my physics homework would be stopped by the angry customers impatiently waiting for their order, my study time would be cut short because of chores that my parents didn't have time to do, and whatever I was doing would be stopped because of dirty dishes that needs to be washed. By doing this, I couldn't join any athletic teams, clubs, or other events such as parties, concerts, etc; but I was willing to sacrifice my time for my parents because they sacrificed their life 18 years ago by immigrating to America and started a new life.

The experience of growing up as a "restaurant kid" encouraged me to work harder so I can be the first member of my family to graduate high school and go into college. The best thing about this experience is that I use these lessons and imply them to my future as a college student and beyond.