It's the optional question of U-chicago.I don't know if the category I added was too odd or not? Because this essay has word limit(about a page) so I couldn't describe every detail. I doubted if the structure of this essay is good or not? Any suggestion on topic or correction on grammar is welcomed.^^ Thank you in advance!
Prompt: Would you please tell us about a few of your favorite books, poems, authors, films, plays, pieces of music, musicians, performers, paintings, artists, magazines, or newspapers? Feel free to touch on one, some, or all of the categories listed, or add a category of your own.
My Favorite Flowers
"How person like you deserve wearing such fragrant flowers that represented elegance and purity!" That young woman in fashionable clothes and delicate cosmetics stared at me with surprise. Yes, I admitted it was my first time to quarrel with others in the public place.
Although the suffocating heat pervaded every corner of Shanghai, the sudden cool breeze that carried the delicate fragrance of jasmines still made me feel pleased. I was on my way to Starbucks when I bumped into that lady shouting at the old granny who sold jasmines in front of the coffee shop.
"I will compensate nothing even if I had mangled your flowers. You are just selling flowers that can be picked everywhere in the city. There is no difference between you and the beggar." Hearing her words in shanghainess, the old granny could do nothing but vulnerably continue stringing the jasmines together with her trembling hands. That lady stepped forward and kicked the basket full of jasmine. My heart was a little when I saw the petals of jasmines scattered around I couldn't help being angry. That's why I shot out the first sentence of this essay. "It's none of your business. She is not your grandmother." That lady said with a scornful tone "She is my grandmother!" My words blurted out. "Then why can't she understand my words? Is she deaf?" That young lady was still being aggressive. "Oh, I am sorry. My grandmother couldn't understand your words because she is a Portuguese." My words put that lady into embarrassment and meanwhile some people in the crowd tried to draw her away. Finally that lady went away with her tails between her legs and the crowd of onlookers gradually thinned off.
That old granny stooped down arduously to pick up the scattered jasmines on the ground. I carefully observed at that old granny. She was wearing the coat that had turned whitish from much washing and seemed the same age as my grandmother was. Her words interrupted my muse.
"Thank you so much for your help. I don't know how to show my appreciation and this is all what I can give you."" She handed the basket full of jasmines to me.
I gazed at the old granny's hands seamed with wrinkles. I was in a dilemma. The old granny depended on jasmines to earn a hard living in this fast-paced city. I did all of these just because I was willing to help not because I meant to get anything back.
"I wanted to buy all of them." I put the only 50 RMB in my pocket on her hand. I knew the old granny wouldn't accept it so I just grabbed the basket and went away.
Actually, jasmine is my favorite flower. The fragrance of had accompanied me since my childhood. Every summer, my mother bought some strings of jasmine back home and wore them on the chest. In Chinese culture, the petal of jasmine symbolizes purity and the faint smell stands for elegance. Now to me, jasmine means more than just a type of flower. The recall of that summer day and my courage to help that old granny always put a smile on my face. This year, I am still seeing that old granny selling jasmines in front of Starbucks. Merely watching at the back of the old granny and feeling the fragrance of jasmine pervaded in the air gave me a sense of pride and gratification.
Prompt: Would you please tell us about a few of your favorite books, poems, authors, films, plays, pieces of music, musicians, performers, paintings, artists, magazines, or newspapers? Feel free to touch on one, some, or all of the categories listed, or add a category of your own.
My Favorite Flowers
"How person like you deserve wearing such fragrant flowers that represented elegance and purity!" That young woman in fashionable clothes and delicate cosmetics stared at me with surprise. Yes, I admitted it was my first time to quarrel with others in the public place.
Although the suffocating heat pervaded every corner of Shanghai, the sudden cool breeze that carried the delicate fragrance of jasmines still made me feel pleased. I was on my way to Starbucks when I bumped into that lady shouting at the old granny who sold jasmines in front of the coffee shop.
"I will compensate nothing even if I had mangled your flowers. You are just selling flowers that can be picked everywhere in the city. There is no difference between you and the beggar." Hearing her words in shanghainess, the old granny could do nothing but vulnerably continue stringing the jasmines together with her trembling hands. That lady stepped forward and kicked the basket full of jasmine. My heart was a little when I saw the petals of jasmines scattered around I couldn't help being angry. That's why I shot out the first sentence of this essay. "It's none of your business. She is not your grandmother." That lady said with a scornful tone "She is my grandmother!" My words blurted out. "Then why can't she understand my words? Is she deaf?" That young lady was still being aggressive. "Oh, I am sorry. My grandmother couldn't understand your words because she is a Portuguese." My words put that lady into embarrassment and meanwhile some people in the crowd tried to draw her away. Finally that lady went away with her tails between her legs and the crowd of onlookers gradually thinned off.
That old granny stooped down arduously to pick up the scattered jasmines on the ground. I carefully observed at that old granny. She was wearing the coat that had turned whitish from much washing and seemed the same age as my grandmother was. Her words interrupted my muse.
"Thank you so much for your help. I don't know how to show my appreciation and this is all what I can give you."" She handed the basket full of jasmines to me.
I gazed at the old granny's hands seamed with wrinkles. I was in a dilemma. The old granny depended on jasmines to earn a hard living in this fast-paced city. I did all of these just because I was willing to help not because I meant to get anything back.
"I wanted to buy all of them." I put the only 50 RMB in my pocket on her hand. I knew the old granny wouldn't accept it so I just grabbed the basket and went away.
Actually, jasmine is my favorite flower. The fragrance of had accompanied me since my childhood. Every summer, my mother bought some strings of jasmine back home and wore them on the chest. In Chinese culture, the petal of jasmine symbolizes purity and the faint smell stands for elegance. Now to me, jasmine means more than just a type of flower. The recall of that summer day and my courage to help that old granny always put a smile on my face. This year, I am still seeing that old granny selling jasmines in front of Starbucks. Merely watching at the back of the old granny and feeling the fragrance of jasmine pervaded in the air gave me a sense of pride and gratification.