Hi guys this is college essay on the first day of school. I know it's a bit too focused on the past and not the present and I'm struggling a great deal to do that with the 500 word limit. Could you revise it and cut me some uneccessary parts? Thank you so much!
Every year when leaves fall in the streets and silver clouds wander about the sky, my heart is in an eager bustle for puzzling memories of the first day of school.
How could I ever forget those feelings blossoming in my heart like fresh flower petals smiling in the transparent sky?
In that morning of cold wind and autumn dew, my mother lovingly held my hand on the long walk to school. The familiar path seemed to change with every step, because in my heart a great change occured: I was going to school.
I would not sit by the window saying goodbye to my mom as she went to work nor pretend I was a teacher and my dolls and teddy bears were my class anymore.
All of that became lovely memories because now I had become a first-grade student.
Dressed in a white shirt tucked in an A-line blue skirt, I felt solemn. Suddenly I wondered where the safety and comfort had gone. What was I going to do in this new place?
Elementary school appeared like a capacious venue where everything was serious. After the resounding drum, students lined up for class. Some sobbed at having to separate from parents. I looked for my mom and as soon as I saw her, tears filled my eyes too. I was only a few people apart from her, yet never in my childhood had I felt that far away from my mother. It was strange because even now when I am half-a-world away from her I have never missed my mom as much as I did at that moment.
Like me, some new students became shy in front of a new crowd, only daring to glance slightly or take little gentle steps. They were baby birds standing on the nest's edge, looking at the wide sky ready to fly, but hesitant. They secretly craved to be like former students, to know classmates and teachers, to not be gawky in a new scene.
Our teacher, looking quite like my mom, led us to class on the first floor. A sensual, woody scent flew about the classroom. I automatically claimed a little desk and smiled at the friend next to me, a girl I never knew but did not seem at all foreign. The connection came so immediate I could not believe it existed. A sparrow landed on the balcony outside, sang softly then flapped its wings before flying away.
I put the envious eyes on the bird, comparing its freedom to mine; but the sound of chalk on black board brought me back to reality. With arms neatly on the table, I murmured the lesson title: I go to school!
The time finally came for my turn to fly away. At fifteen I left mom to go study abroad, leaving those closest to my heart behind for a future of hope and promises. The day I stepped on the flight I did not cry. It was different from first grade; although this time the door was even bigger, stranger and more enlightening than the one I thought was huge on that first day. No one holds my hand to class nor asks how my day was at school. Classes are filled with friends from all around the earth where I become my own teacher. The usual magical feeling in the morning starts fading away because now comes the real challenge. I stand on the cliff gazing at the deep fall beneath my feet and remind myself of the blue sky above. Being far from mom now does not frighten me, but gives me strength and courage for the journey ahead.
The exciting thing for me is soon a new door will open, but the unpleasant thing is there are still much more to learn, and no matter how hard I try I would only know a trilionth of the infinite space. Every minute I sit and read, research, engulf information is another minute I want to put more knowledge in my little brain, and the little bird cannot wait any longer to spread its wings to the open sky.
Every year when leaves fall in the streets and silver clouds wander about the sky, my heart is in an eager bustle for puzzling memories of the first day of school.
How could I ever forget those feelings blossoming in my heart like fresh flower petals smiling in the transparent sky?
In that morning of cold wind and autumn dew, my mother lovingly held my hand on the long walk to school. The familiar path seemed to change with every step, because in my heart a great change occured: I was going to school.
I would not sit by the window saying goodbye to my mom as she went to work nor pretend I was a teacher and my dolls and teddy bears were my class anymore.
All of that became lovely memories because now I had become a first-grade student.
Dressed in a white shirt tucked in an A-line blue skirt, I felt solemn. Suddenly I wondered where the safety and comfort had gone. What was I going to do in this new place?
Elementary school appeared like a capacious venue where everything was serious. After the resounding drum, students lined up for class. Some sobbed at having to separate from parents. I looked for my mom and as soon as I saw her, tears filled my eyes too. I was only a few people apart from her, yet never in my childhood had I felt that far away from my mother. It was strange because even now when I am half-a-world away from her I have never missed my mom as much as I did at that moment.
Like me, some new students became shy in front of a new crowd, only daring to glance slightly or take little gentle steps. They were baby birds standing on the nest's edge, looking at the wide sky ready to fly, but hesitant. They secretly craved to be like former students, to know classmates and teachers, to not be gawky in a new scene.
Our teacher, looking quite like my mom, led us to class on the first floor. A sensual, woody scent flew about the classroom. I automatically claimed a little desk and smiled at the friend next to me, a girl I never knew but did not seem at all foreign. The connection came so immediate I could not believe it existed. A sparrow landed on the balcony outside, sang softly then flapped its wings before flying away.
I put the envious eyes on the bird, comparing its freedom to mine; but the sound of chalk on black board brought me back to reality. With arms neatly on the table, I murmured the lesson title: I go to school!
The time finally came for my turn to fly away. At fifteen I left mom to go study abroad, leaving those closest to my heart behind for a future of hope and promises. The day I stepped on the flight I did not cry. It was different from first grade; although this time the door was even bigger, stranger and more enlightening than the one I thought was huge on that first day. No one holds my hand to class nor asks how my day was at school. Classes are filled with friends from all around the earth where I become my own teacher. The usual magical feeling in the morning starts fading away because now comes the real challenge. I stand on the cliff gazing at the deep fall beneath my feet and remind myself of the blue sky above. Being far from mom now does not frighten me, but gives me strength and courage for the journey ahead.
The exciting thing for me is soon a new door will open, but the unpleasant thing is there are still much more to learn, and no matter how hard I try I would only know a trilionth of the infinite space. Every minute I sit and read, research, engulf information is another minute I want to put more knowledge in my little brain, and the little bird cannot wait any longer to spread its wings to the open sky.