Please be harsh! This is my common essay, I chose the topic of your own choice option. Please critique my grammar! It is due in a couple of hours! Thanks!
"I am sorry ma'am; the doctor cannot see your daughter at the moment. Please return when you have the sufficient funds to pay the medical fees, and then we will admit your daughter to the hospital."
These were the heartless words of a nurse to a young woman, whose daughter was suffering from severe bacterial pneumonia. The woman, whose name I later discovered to be Miriam, begged the nurse to have the doctor take a quick look at her daughter, but the nurse simply motioned her towards the exit. Miriam placed a quick kiss on her daughter's forehead and began walking towards the building's exit as streams of tears flowed from her eyes. She forced the corners of her lips to curl into a smile, which I understood as her attempt to display a strong façade for her daughter.
In the summer of 2011, my family and I traveled to Pakistan to visit my relatives back home. This was my first trip to Pakistan since I first came to the United States in March of 2005. A few weeks after arriving in Pakistan, I accompanied my father on a visit to a local hospital. During our stay at the hospital, I witnessed as Miriam's daughter was denied medical care simply because she couldn't afford to pay the admittance fee. As Miriam was making her way to the hospital's parking lot, I approached her and asked her if she needed help. She turned towards me with an unwavering stare and mumbled, "Something needs to change...," before hurrying towards the sidewalk. When I returned home that day, Miriam's words continued to repeat in my mind. Even 'till this very day, I can close my eyes and recall the scene and her desperate pleas in vivid detail.
To me her words were a reminder of what the value of human life had reduced to in a country where I used to live, and where I could have been still living. Does the importance of a person's life solely depend on their financial status? I can't help but imagine myself in Miriam's position. I, who is blessed to be living in a country where human life is considered of the highest regard, and where medical personnel are unconcerned about whether the patient can afford the treatment; what if I was in her situation? What if it were my daughter? What would I do?
That day at the hospital, I had seen in Miriam's eyes the essence of pure desperation. She had sparked something in me, a feeling stronger than anything I have ever felt before- passion, the passion to make a difference in our world. I was never the person that is easily inspired or mesmerized, but Miriam completely transformed me. Her story really hit home for me; it changed my entire perspective on what life is really about, what its purpose is. Life is about putting others before you, about caring for others, and about making others happy, because only then can you experience true happiness.
"I am sorry ma'am; the doctor cannot see your daughter at the moment. Please return when you have the sufficient funds to pay the medical fees, and then we will admit your daughter to the hospital."
These were the heartless words of a nurse to a young woman, whose daughter was suffering from severe bacterial pneumonia. The woman, whose name I later discovered to be Miriam, begged the nurse to have the doctor take a quick look at her daughter, but the nurse simply motioned her towards the exit. Miriam placed a quick kiss on her daughter's forehead and began walking towards the building's exit as streams of tears flowed from her eyes. She forced the corners of her lips to curl into a smile, which I understood as her attempt to display a strong façade for her daughter.
In the summer of 2011, my family and I traveled to Pakistan to visit my relatives back home. This was my first trip to Pakistan since I first came to the United States in March of 2005. A few weeks after arriving in Pakistan, I accompanied my father on a visit to a local hospital. During our stay at the hospital, I witnessed as Miriam's daughter was denied medical care simply because she couldn't afford to pay the admittance fee. As Miriam was making her way to the hospital's parking lot, I approached her and asked her if she needed help. She turned towards me with an unwavering stare and mumbled, "Something needs to change...," before hurrying towards the sidewalk. When I returned home that day, Miriam's words continued to repeat in my mind. Even 'till this very day, I can close my eyes and recall the scene and her desperate pleas in vivid detail.
To me her words were a reminder of what the value of human life had reduced to in a country where I used to live, and where I could have been still living. Does the importance of a person's life solely depend on their financial status? I can't help but imagine myself in Miriam's position. I, who is blessed to be living in a country where human life is considered of the highest regard, and where medical personnel are unconcerned about whether the patient can afford the treatment; what if I was in her situation? What if it were my daughter? What would I do?
That day at the hospital, I had seen in Miriam's eyes the essence of pure desperation. She had sparked something in me, a feeling stronger than anything I have ever felt before- passion, the passion to make a difference in our world. I was never the person that is easily inspired or mesmerized, but Miriam completely transformed me. Her story really hit home for me; it changed my entire perspective on what life is really about, what its purpose is. Life is about putting others before you, about caring for others, and about making others happy, because only then can you experience true happiness.