Thank you to anyone who took time out of their day just to look at it. I appreciate it greatly. Any help is welcomed.
Prompt: Tell us about a personal quality, talent, accomplishment, contribution or experience that is important to you. What about this quality or accomplishment makes you proud, and how does it relate to the person you are?
I woke up one morning to the sound of a man selling corn from the streets and car stereos that shook my room's windows as if there was a massive earthquake. The sun was unmarred by any clouds in the way of its shine, and I could smell tortillas being freshly made right next door. It was the perfect atmosphere for the fourteenth of February in my parents' hometown, Tototlan, Jalisco. It was that particular day in 2001, however, that filled me with everlasting sorrow.
My father and I went to visit my grandmother in the morning after she had gone to church. I was excited when we went to visit my grandmother, because our visits were scarce, to say the least. While normal kids would burst with joy over going to Disneyland, I would have the same reaction about going to my grandmother's house. She always made the exact same food every day: beans and sautéed beef. It tasted better every time than the last, as if she had put more love into her cooking. After eating, she allowed me to assist her in watering her two lemon trees and one small plant that miraculously grew out of concrete. That small plant always made me smile. Being with her was my sanctuary. I felt closer to her than I did my own parents, and I am certain that my parents were well aware of it. She was not only kind to her family, but to everyone she encountered, and she was well known by a lot of people in the town, because of her contributions to the local church. It was her devout nature that inspired me to adopt the catholic faith, though to a lesser extent.
It was time for my father and me to make our leave, so I gave my grandmother a kiss on the cheek and promised to be back later. Unfortunately, I went back to visit her sooner than anticipated when my father received a phone call that shattered him and altered my life significantly. My grandmother abruptly passed away. Being a mere child at the time, I was not sure what it meant at first, but when my father explained to me that my grandmother, the person I loved most, would not be with us ever again, I cried more tears than everyone else mourning. My parents tried comforting me, to no avail, as I continued sobbing in between prayers.
Over a decade has passed and I still miss my grandmother. Every year as the red day full of obligated love and clichés descends, I do nothing, but spend the hours of the day thinking of her. The anniversary of that fateful day is the only day of the year that I go to church; I beg my parents to take me. Her passing has taught me that I should not wait for any one particular day of the year to tell someone I care about them, and be thankful that they are in my life. I learned from this experience that I must be like that small plant, now in a gallon of water on top of her grave, and simply overcome any tragedies or obstacles in my path to becoming who I want to be. A massive loss at a young age has forced me to mature at a greater rate than what I would have normally done. Though she is no longer here, I am incredibly grateful for everything my grandmother did for me, while she lived and posthumously.
Prompt: Tell us about a personal quality, talent, accomplishment, contribution or experience that is important to you. What about this quality or accomplishment makes you proud, and how does it relate to the person you are?
I woke up one morning to the sound of a man selling corn from the streets and car stereos that shook my room's windows as if there was a massive earthquake. The sun was unmarred by any clouds in the way of its shine, and I could smell tortillas being freshly made right next door. It was the perfect atmosphere for the fourteenth of February in my parents' hometown, Tototlan, Jalisco. It was that particular day in 2001, however, that filled me with everlasting sorrow.
My father and I went to visit my grandmother in the morning after she had gone to church. I was excited when we went to visit my grandmother, because our visits were scarce, to say the least. While normal kids would burst with joy over going to Disneyland, I would have the same reaction about going to my grandmother's house. She always made the exact same food every day: beans and sautéed beef. It tasted better every time than the last, as if she had put more love into her cooking. After eating, she allowed me to assist her in watering her two lemon trees and one small plant that miraculously grew out of concrete. That small plant always made me smile. Being with her was my sanctuary. I felt closer to her than I did my own parents, and I am certain that my parents were well aware of it. She was not only kind to her family, but to everyone she encountered, and she was well known by a lot of people in the town, because of her contributions to the local church. It was her devout nature that inspired me to adopt the catholic faith, though to a lesser extent.
It was time for my father and me to make our leave, so I gave my grandmother a kiss on the cheek and promised to be back later. Unfortunately, I went back to visit her sooner than anticipated when my father received a phone call that shattered him and altered my life significantly. My grandmother abruptly passed away. Being a mere child at the time, I was not sure what it meant at first, but when my father explained to me that my grandmother, the person I loved most, would not be with us ever again, I cried more tears than everyone else mourning. My parents tried comforting me, to no avail, as I continued sobbing in between prayers.
Over a decade has passed and I still miss my grandmother. Every year as the red day full of obligated love and clichés descends, I do nothing, but spend the hours of the day thinking of her. The anniversary of that fateful day is the only day of the year that I go to church; I beg my parents to take me. Her passing has taught me that I should not wait for any one particular day of the year to tell someone I care about them, and be thankful that they are in my life. I learned from this experience that I must be like that small plant, now in a gallon of water on top of her grave, and simply overcome any tragedies or obstacles in my path to becoming who I want to be. A massive loss at a young age has forced me to mature at a greater rate than what I would have normally done. Though she is no longer here, I am incredibly grateful for everything my grandmother did for me, while she lived and posthumously.
