If anyone can give me advice on what I should add to the essay maybe, if my transition and message is clear, and any other critiques to hear from please!
Saliva runs down her chin. She cannot speak, but she can feel. I feel her heart palpitation from under my hand. Her heart is racing, pumping to live. Those feeble arms droop to the floor like a deflated balloon longing for air. She clenches. I whisper to her, "It's okay, Genise, I am here." I sing her a lullaby hoping she might understand, yet even I do not understand.
My hands rub her chest. I feel every ligament, muscle, and bone. This little creature was malnourished. As I stretch and massage every part of her body, her story is deciphered. She has been abandoned. That stomach is bloated with questions; however, it is never filled with answers, but she looks up. Her big brown eyes, cross-eyed, look at me. They whisper to me, "It's okay, I am still here."
The world falls away. It is just the orphan and me. The painted trees and ladybugs from the wall fade into a haze of colors. Her stained pink flower dress illuminates the scene. The presence of the nurses and volunteers becomes an endless motion that ceases time.
She gasps. A pain had erupted from every part of her body as if wrapped in a blanket of nails. The excruciating torment of forcing a leg to bend and straighten was the only thing she could express, but she was determined to walk. The dream of setting foot on that Haitian soil; it would nourish her vibrant soul with victory; so, I continued to push her body. She squeezes her fists in hope of relieving the agony. I cannot help but look away as I beg for it to end. I concentrate on the pool of slobber. The transparent fluid evaporates from her dress of dreams to the heat of the wind.
I look up at her, and that is when I understood. She smiled at me and giggled. I kept singing the lullaby hoping to keep that smile. A single tear slid down from my warm, unblinking eyes, followed by another one and another one; until, soon a steadily stream of salty tears flowed down my pale cheeks. The world around became a blur of color that melts to gray. I was slowly releasing my emotion within my silent tears, dissolving into this girl's glance. A bittersweet emotion dove into my body, and I swirled through its current.
She taught me the greatest lesson in life, one that no common man can ever foresee: the true value of appreciation. Every problem I could think of was turned into a pebble. Every achievement was turned into a triumph. Her pure innocence led me to sanity; it flowed through every vein of my body.
The Haitian music began to buzz back in my ear. I picked her up ever so gently, cradled her neck like a newborn, and placed her on the wheelchair. I watched those lucid eyes fall into a maze of fantasies. I walked out quietly outside, lost in my feelings. I wanted to stay in the orphanage. In this so called home, every moment mattered. Each giggle bloomed a flower, and each sob lit the night. It was my paradise. The gift to love and care surrounded this orphanage.
I watched the disabled children observe the other kids. Their look was one of admiration. They each appreciated one another. The other kids came up to the disabled and made them laugh. I couldn't believe it.
Then, a nurse brought her out of the physical therapy room in her wheelchair so she can be with the other kids playing . I had to stay strong. So, I walked up to the little girl, took her out of the wheelchair, and carried her in my arms. I told her to trust me. She gave me a big smile. She looked at me and every word in my vocabulary melted out of existence.
Saliva runs down her chin. She cannot speak, but she can feel. I feel her heart palpitation from under my hand. Her heart is racing, pumping to live. Those feeble arms droop to the floor like a deflated balloon longing for air. She clenches. I whisper to her, "It's okay, Genise, I am here." I sing her a lullaby hoping she might understand, yet even I do not understand.
My hands rub her chest. I feel every ligament, muscle, and bone. This little creature was malnourished. As I stretch and massage every part of her body, her story is deciphered. She has been abandoned. That stomach is bloated with questions; however, it is never filled with answers, but she looks up. Her big brown eyes, cross-eyed, look at me. They whisper to me, "It's okay, I am still here."
The world falls away. It is just the orphan and me. The painted trees and ladybugs from the wall fade into a haze of colors. Her stained pink flower dress illuminates the scene. The presence of the nurses and volunteers becomes an endless motion that ceases time.
She gasps. A pain had erupted from every part of her body as if wrapped in a blanket of nails. The excruciating torment of forcing a leg to bend and straighten was the only thing she could express, but she was determined to walk. The dream of setting foot on that Haitian soil; it would nourish her vibrant soul with victory; so, I continued to push her body. She squeezes her fists in hope of relieving the agony. I cannot help but look away as I beg for it to end. I concentrate on the pool of slobber. The transparent fluid evaporates from her dress of dreams to the heat of the wind.
I look up at her, and that is when I understood. She smiled at me and giggled. I kept singing the lullaby hoping to keep that smile. A single tear slid down from my warm, unblinking eyes, followed by another one and another one; until, soon a steadily stream of salty tears flowed down my pale cheeks. The world around became a blur of color that melts to gray. I was slowly releasing my emotion within my silent tears, dissolving into this girl's glance. A bittersweet emotion dove into my body, and I swirled through its current.
She taught me the greatest lesson in life, one that no common man can ever foresee: the true value of appreciation. Every problem I could think of was turned into a pebble. Every achievement was turned into a triumph. Her pure innocence led me to sanity; it flowed through every vein of my body.
The Haitian music began to buzz back in my ear. I picked her up ever so gently, cradled her neck like a newborn, and placed her on the wheelchair. I watched those lucid eyes fall into a maze of fantasies. I walked out quietly outside, lost in my feelings. I wanted to stay in the orphanage. In this so called home, every moment mattered. Each giggle bloomed a flower, and each sob lit the night. It was my paradise. The gift to love and care surrounded this orphanage.
I watched the disabled children observe the other kids. Their look was one of admiration. They each appreciated one another. The other kids came up to the disabled and made them laugh. I couldn't believe it.
Then, a nurse brought her out of the physical therapy room in her wheelchair so she can be with the other kids playing . I had to stay strong. So, I walked up to the little girl, took her out of the wheelchair, and carried her in my arms. I told her to trust me. She gave me a big smile. She looked at me and every word in my vocabulary melted out of existence.