Q: Discuss an accomplishment or event, formal or informal, that marked your transition from childhood to adulthood within your culture, community, or family.
Please give me harsh criticism, I feel like I'm not answering the prompt well and my transitions are very abrupt (like one second I'm sad then all of a sudden I'm happy) Also, I feel like my ending is too weak, any suggestions? Sorry it's so long): but thank you!
As I lugged boxes of packaged food back and forth across the factory room, I vividly imagined the muscles tearing apart in my arm. So this was World Vision 30 hr famine. I felt as if I were volunteering myself to a slow, painful deterioration of my body. Outwardly, I didn't express anything. I continued to move like a robot in an assembly line, helping to package thanksgiving meals. However, inside I was raging like a monster. I glared up at the seemingly endless mountain of boxes while trying to suppress my exhaustion. I was just a volunteer, another set of hands to get the work finished and a robot, emotionless and eternally committed to its programmed duties.
Back at church, my youth group and I decided to show our gratitude on cardboard signs. I wrote in large letters, "Thankful for love". I stared down at my words. They didn't seem complete or satisfactory to me. I added down six letters that made a huge difference, so the sign later read, "Thankful for being loved" instead. As we walked into the bustling city streets, I averted my eyes from the surrounding people. Their vacant stares discouraged me. I began to think about how insignificant I was among a crowd of teenagers all holding pieces of cardboard. I was just a lifeless figure that passing strangers on the street stared at.
"Honk honk!" I quickly turned to see the optimism of family members inside of the cars as they drove by. Their happiness was contagious. A huge smile broke across my face despite the gusty, autumn weather. I started to shout, "Happy Thanksgiving!" at random strangers who were passing by. My own group saw my actions and started joining me. People began to smile as they read our signs and looks of understanding came across their faces. Encouraged, I began going out of my comfort zone to explain our motivation to questioning strangers. It was initially nerve wracking but as I talked to more people, I grew out of my trepidation of talking to strangers.
Nearing the church, I smelled and followed the heavenly scent of fresh food. Our walk and famine were ending. Happy thoughts and words were shared over our feast. I looked around the room and captured the scene into my memory. These last thirty hours defined the real meaning of fellowship: bonding together, despite non-biological relations, through priceless experiences of helping and spreading joy throughout the community. More significantly though, I reflected my childish motivation of attending out of curiosity and intention of having fun. Prior to the event, I began the fundraising because it seemed mandatory. I gathered a few friends, not because they were also attending the event, but because I wasn't bold enough to go by myself around the neighborhood asking for donations. We set a goal of two hundred dollars. As we witnessed generous donations and encouragements, I became more confident and overcame both my stutter and shyness. As the event date came closer, I totaled and realized I raised four hundred instead! Enthusiastic, I joined my youth group friends ready for fun the next night at the event
However, once here, I was instead immersed in a new world: a world of hunger. Each passing hour granted me more understanding of the hardships others face. This event impacted me with a glimpse of the real world where thirty hours without food is nothing compared to the millions of people living in poverty and starvation daily. I learned that my fundraising was going to feed and provide an education to those as far as across the world. My everlasting passion for community service and helping others blossomed. I no longer felt like a programmed robot or a lifeless figure. Instead, I matured with a more responsible, independent mindset: even if I'm young, I can and will make a difference.
Please give me harsh criticism, I feel like I'm not answering the prompt well and my transitions are very abrupt (like one second I'm sad then all of a sudden I'm happy) Also, I feel like my ending is too weak, any suggestions? Sorry it's so long): but thank you!
As I lugged boxes of packaged food back and forth across the factory room, I vividly imagined the muscles tearing apart in my arm. So this was World Vision 30 hr famine. I felt as if I were volunteering myself to a slow, painful deterioration of my body. Outwardly, I didn't express anything. I continued to move like a robot in an assembly line, helping to package thanksgiving meals. However, inside I was raging like a monster. I glared up at the seemingly endless mountain of boxes while trying to suppress my exhaustion. I was just a volunteer, another set of hands to get the work finished and a robot, emotionless and eternally committed to its programmed duties.
Back at church, my youth group and I decided to show our gratitude on cardboard signs. I wrote in large letters, "Thankful for love". I stared down at my words. They didn't seem complete or satisfactory to me. I added down six letters that made a huge difference, so the sign later read, "Thankful for being loved" instead. As we walked into the bustling city streets, I averted my eyes from the surrounding people. Their vacant stares discouraged me. I began to think about how insignificant I was among a crowd of teenagers all holding pieces of cardboard. I was just a lifeless figure that passing strangers on the street stared at.
"Honk honk!" I quickly turned to see the optimism of family members inside of the cars as they drove by. Their happiness was contagious. A huge smile broke across my face despite the gusty, autumn weather. I started to shout, "Happy Thanksgiving!" at random strangers who were passing by. My own group saw my actions and started joining me. People began to smile as they read our signs and looks of understanding came across their faces. Encouraged, I began going out of my comfort zone to explain our motivation to questioning strangers. It was initially nerve wracking but as I talked to more people, I grew out of my trepidation of talking to strangers.
Nearing the church, I smelled and followed the heavenly scent of fresh food. Our walk and famine were ending. Happy thoughts and words were shared over our feast. I looked around the room and captured the scene into my memory. These last thirty hours defined the real meaning of fellowship: bonding together, despite non-biological relations, through priceless experiences of helping and spreading joy throughout the community. More significantly though, I reflected my childish motivation of attending out of curiosity and intention of having fun. Prior to the event, I began the fundraising because it seemed mandatory. I gathered a few friends, not because they were also attending the event, but because I wasn't bold enough to go by myself around the neighborhood asking for donations. We set a goal of two hundred dollars. As we witnessed generous donations and encouragements, I became more confident and overcame both my stutter and shyness. As the event date came closer, I totaled and realized I raised four hundred instead! Enthusiastic, I joined my youth group friends ready for fun the next night at the event
However, once here, I was instead immersed in a new world: a world of hunger. Each passing hour granted me more understanding of the hardships others face. This event impacted me with a glimpse of the real world where thirty hours without food is nothing compared to the millions of people living in poverty and starvation daily. I learned that my fundraising was going to feed and provide an education to those as far as across the world. My everlasting passion for community service and helping others blossomed. I no longer felt like a programmed robot or a lifeless figure. Instead, I matured with a more responsible, independent mindset: even if I'm young, I can and will make a difference.
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