So I found this old essay I wrote for nothing and thought, why not use it for something? Maybe it would work for a common app prompt? vassar, william and mary, and georgetown all have prompts where you can do whatever so maybe for these schools. Just any thoughts in general. For people who know absolutely no spanish at all, can you understand?
Carla
"Look up," I tell her. "There's a spider on the ceiling."
She understands only spider and up and asks, "żArańa? żArriba?"
I tell her, "Sí, está allí, en el techo," though I am not supposed to speak to her in Spanish.
She knows the trick by now and smirks at me but looks up anyway. "No la veo," she says with a tilt of the head.
"Sí. Hay una arańita negra."
I hurry to rinse the water out of her hair, taking care to guide the water with my hand away from her eyes, which are still staring up at the spider on the ceiling. I turn off the water and she starts to shiver. "Toalla."
I take the towel and wrap it around her nice and tight, up until the nose. She points to me, "You," and then back at herself, "sujet me."
I pick her up and lift her out of the shower and we sit down on the toilet seat. "You sing me."
I sing "Hush, Little Baby," rocking her back and forth, making up the lyrics as I go along, like my nana had done with me. "...and if that rocking horse should break, Momma's gonna buy you...a big fat slice of cake."
She laughs, though not at my lyrics, which she couldn't have understood, but because she detects that I'm making up the song. "No sabes las palabras de la canción."
"Pero, żQué me dices bichito mío?"
I continue, and as I sing, I see my grandma pointing up at the imaginary spider on the ceiling washing the shampoo out of my hair. I see her rocking me in her arms as she invents lullaby lyrics. I smile and think of the my grandma's memorial card; crinkled and worn from love, it is safe-guarded in my wallet.
Do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there; I did not die.
I have been knocked down by grief, but it is in little moments like these that I realize I will heal. I see that I am able to make what is gone--come alive. I see my little Carla--from her house in Spain--telling her daughter to look up at the "arańa en el techo." No, nothing is ever gone.
"żPorque no me cantas?"
I kiss her on the forehead. Somehow, we have all been connected. Everything lives on. And I find a little comfort in that.
Who is Carla? I'm a bit confused over what happened. Did your grandma just die or died awhile ago or did someone Carla love die and you are trying to help her move on?
I know Spanish but I think it's too much for those who might not know, maybe there's enough context clues...
It sounds nice but I have no idea what's going on and that's not good.
Okay, here is the context, which the applications committee would know: My grandma died and after I was depressed and moved to spain as an au pair. Carla is the girl I take care of. I don't know, it was supposed to be a bit ambiguous though. Like the context is not important. Its just supposed to be a simple moment of me taking care of a girl and being reminded of my grandma taking care of me when I was kid. If that is not obvious I guess I need to do some revising.
