Prompt: You have already told us about yourself in the Common Application, with its list of activities, the Short Answer, and the Personal Essay. While we leave the topic of your second essay entirely up to you, try telling us something about yourself that you believe we cannot learn elsewhere in your application. Please limit yourself to fewer than 500 words.
"I never liked jazz music because jazz music doesn't resolve. But...one night...I saw a man playing the saxophone. I stood there for fifteen minutes, and he never opened his eyes. After that I liked jazz music. Sometimes you have to watch somebody love something before you can love it yourself. It is as if they are showing you the way. I used to not like God because God didn't resolve. But that was before any of this happened."
-Blue Like Jazz, by Donald Miller
My cousins are adorable. They came down to visit a few weekends ago. My favorite one is Eve, the youngest. I know it's terrible to have favorites, but something about this little four year old who screams "We're ready!!!!" to her two older sisters while she and I hide in the closet during hide and seek (unknowingly yet blatantly giving away our hiding spot) makes my heart melt. I love Eve for her lack of inhibitions and unreservedness, her naive perceptions, so clear to me. To see this small person live and be so dynamic, to watch her curiosity guide her and help her grow, leaves me in sheer awe and amazement. It's feelings like these that give me a glimpse into what God thinks of me.
Despite my numbness in the daily grind of academic life, I have experienced an immense amount of beauty lately. I have seen beauty in the hazel eyes of my baby cousin, her awe of my ability to complete the simple task of making hot chocolate. I've seen beauty at Sandy Neck Beach, peering out a sunroof with a beautiful friend, gazing at a sapphire ocean, wondering how any one body could cover such a vast expanse. I have seen it I people the most: in the sparkle in my mom's eyes when she greets me good morning, in the timber of my father's voice when he arrives home, in my friend peeping in the window of my science class just to wave hello. Every time I catch a glimmer of this illusive being named beauty, I remember who made it.
God loves me. He slow dances with me when I cry, listens to my petty and utterly insignificant concerns. To Him, I am Eve, this beautiful little child that truly doesn't know anything but that He loves despite my ignorance. He made the world beautiful for me by wrapping it in ribbons of color, filling it with the surprising, confusing, amazing people. He has held my hand when going through, what seemed at the time, like the depths of hell, never letting me suffer without a purpose, always knowing it had the ultimate design of drawing me back to Him. He loves me despite knowing the nasty things I've thought about those that love me, the selfish things I've done to gain admiration or attention. He'll love me forever and He'll never, ever, ever change. And that's why I love Him.
If anyone has read my "mr. bingley" essay, this would be in place of that one so a comparison of which one you like better would be most helpful, although just critiques on this one are good too as I might be able to use this for a different application.
This essay is really pretty and heartwarming, and I really enjoyed reading it. In comparing it with the other essay though, I'd have to say I like the Mr. Bingley one the best. I think it shows a side of sweetness + humor, and is more interesting. Personally, I am much more intrigued by your connection with a dead fish than your connection with God, and feel it is much more unique. This one is still very nice though!
My little cousins are adorable. ---> just an idea to help draw the reader into the experience.
It's feelings like these that give me a glimpse into what God thinks of me the way God sees me. ----> we have to keep it visual because of your use of "glimpse."
I like the fish essay more. This one is great, too, but not as powerful as the other one. Both of these remind me of Ursula LeGuin, though. Maybe I have said that to you before. You write so well!!
