mgm7890 /
Oct 30, 2010 #1
Prompt: Evaluate a significant experience, achievement, risk you have taken, or ethical dilemma you have faced and its impact on you.
Snow. It's funny to think that one degree Fahrenheit can make the difference between one inch of rain, or ten inches of the white, fluffy compound. Snow is a common occurrence in Rhode Island and what is even more common is the amounts it receives. Since I reside in a small cul-de-sac, I often feel like my house is the collect center for all the snow in my neighborhood. Immense, tightly packed snow banks resemble the figure of a skyscraper to a child. I used to love playing in the snow and it was the main reason I did not want to move to a different state as a child.
As I grew older the phenomenon of snow faded away and the task of removing the white wonder took over. When I turned fourteen I was given the privilege of being able to command the snow blower. Now, when an only child lives alone with their mom and she is constantly ailing a poor back due to work, the right to turn the key in a snow blower is like receiving the key to a city.
At the sight of the first snowfall, I rushed to my shed and unlocked the frozen pad lock. I uncovered the beast and rolled it off the wooden planks it sat upon. I pushed the metal piece of machinery up a hill and finally positioned it to start removing the nine inches of snow my driveway had accumulated. I was one of the most jovial, ecstatic kids on the planet at that time. My love for snow re-entered my heart. I primed the engine, lubricated it, and filled it with gasoline. I was so excited to pull the cord and hear the machine roar. I wasn't a very strong kid so I had to position one foot near the augers, and one food five feet to my left to generate some leverage. I was in position to generate a giant rip of the cord. But nothing happened. I repeated step three through five like the manual said. But still nothing. At that moment I noticed that the spark plug was stripped and was causing the engine not to start. I solemnly placed the machine back in its home and ripped the five dollar plastic shovel from the back shelf.
I'm the kind of person that will not leave something alone when it breaks. I feel like I need to mend the broken object together. So after I shoveled my driveway, I opened the shed back up, brought the stubborn machine back out, and started to examine at it. My self-determination kicked in at the moment. I knew nothing about small engines or snow blowers for that matter. That did not detract me from learning how to fix it. I made it my goal to learn the ins-and-outs of this machine so I could fix it. I learned that I needed to get the cylinder head of the engine re-drilled. I asked myself, "Ok... how do I do that...?" I grabbed a the Yellowpages and sifted through them looking for small mechanics. One benefit of living in a small state is that everything is easily accessible. I went door-to-door of small shops asking them to help me with this task until I met Mr. Cole. He was kind enough to come in on Christmas Eve and fix this problem for me.
I was very grateful that Mr. Cole helped me on a holiday. He inadvertently demonstrated a great lesson to me. He taught me to always be open to people that need help and to never reject them. I only spent 5 minutes with the man in his cold, dim workshop. After I left and went home, I reinstalled the cylinder onto the engine and assumed my starting position again. I placed my feet on the ground and pulled with all my might. The engine gave a loud roar as it started for the first time in ten years. I quickly removed the fresh snow from my driveway and was able to go inside my house to take care of my ailing mother. In life today, I try to apply my formula of how I fixed my snow blower to my daily life. After reading the manual again, my eyes were drawn to a page that had something written on it from the previous owner. It read, "Go to Mr. Cole for cylinder head problem. He will quickly solve any issue." After reading this, I chuckled, but still loved the mission I went through to try to fix it on my own.
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1. I tried to pick an abstract topic to be different... Do you think this essay is not a good one to demonstrate me? Should I pick a new topic, or rework it?
2. Do I need to add more about it shaped me? I thought the examples and story implied it, but should I touch more on how it made me who I am and had an impact?
3. Does this essay demonstrate how I can be determined to chase something and that I'm not lazy?
4. Do I have the right prompt selection?
5. Any parts I can cut out?
THANK YOU!
Snowy Struggles
Snow. It's funny to think that one degree Fahrenheit can make the difference between one inch of rain, or ten inches of the white, fluffy compound. Snow is a common occurrence in Rhode Island and what is even more common is the amounts it receives. Since I reside in a small cul-de-sac, I often feel like my house is the collect center for all the snow in my neighborhood. Immense, tightly packed snow banks resemble the figure of a skyscraper to a child. I used to love playing in the snow and it was the main reason I did not want to move to a different state as a child.
As I grew older the phenomenon of snow faded away and the task of removing the white wonder took over. When I turned fourteen I was given the privilege of being able to command the snow blower. Now, when an only child lives alone with their mom and she is constantly ailing a poor back due to work, the right to turn the key in a snow blower is like receiving the key to a city.
At the sight of the first snowfall, I rushed to my shed and unlocked the frozen pad lock. I uncovered the beast and rolled it off the wooden planks it sat upon. I pushed the metal piece of machinery up a hill and finally positioned it to start removing the nine inches of snow my driveway had accumulated. I was one of the most jovial, ecstatic kids on the planet at that time. My love for snow re-entered my heart. I primed the engine, lubricated it, and filled it with gasoline. I was so excited to pull the cord and hear the machine roar. I wasn't a very strong kid so I had to position one foot near the augers, and one food five feet to my left to generate some leverage. I was in position to generate a giant rip of the cord. But nothing happened. I repeated step three through five like the manual said. But still nothing. At that moment I noticed that the spark plug was stripped and was causing the engine not to start. I solemnly placed the machine back in its home and ripped the five dollar plastic shovel from the back shelf.
I'm the kind of person that will not leave something alone when it breaks. I feel like I need to mend the broken object together. So after I shoveled my driveway, I opened the shed back up, brought the stubborn machine back out, and started to examine at it. My self-determination kicked in at the moment. I knew nothing about small engines or snow blowers for that matter. That did not detract me from learning how to fix it. I made it my goal to learn the ins-and-outs of this machine so I could fix it. I learned that I needed to get the cylinder head of the engine re-drilled. I asked myself, "Ok... how do I do that...?" I grabbed a the Yellowpages and sifted through them looking for small mechanics. One benefit of living in a small state is that everything is easily accessible. I went door-to-door of small shops asking them to help me with this task until I met Mr. Cole. He was kind enough to come in on Christmas Eve and fix this problem for me.
I was very grateful that Mr. Cole helped me on a holiday. He inadvertently demonstrated a great lesson to me. He taught me to always be open to people that need help and to never reject them. I only spent 5 minutes with the man in his cold, dim workshop. After I left and went home, I reinstalled the cylinder onto the engine and assumed my starting position again. I placed my feet on the ground and pulled with all my might. The engine gave a loud roar as it started for the first time in ten years. I quickly removed the fresh snow from my driveway and was able to go inside my house to take care of my ailing mother. In life today, I try to apply my formula of how I fixed my snow blower to my daily life. After reading the manual again, my eyes were drawn to a page that had something written on it from the previous owner. It read, "Go to Mr. Cole for cylinder head problem. He will quickly solve any issue." After reading this, I chuckled, but still loved the mission I went through to try to fix it on my own.
--------------------------------
1. I tried to pick an abstract topic to be different... Do you think this essay is not a good one to demonstrate me? Should I pick a new topic, or rework it?
2. Do I need to add more about it shaped me? I thought the examples and story implied it, but should I touch more on how it made me who I am and had an impact?
3. Does this essay demonstrate how I can be determined to chase something and that I'm not lazy?
4. Do I have the right prompt selection?
5. Any parts I can cut out?
THANK YOU!