"Discuss an accomplishment or event, formal or informal, that marked your transition from childhood to adulthood within your culture, community, or family."
MY ESSAY: (didn't think of a title yet.. working on it!)
The comforting scent of exotic street food wafted up my nostrils as I passed the rows of vendors lined up along the street. It was a sweltering hot day in Taiwan, but I was extremely excited to have been given the opportunity to travel there with my sister and a few close friends. We decided to split up, boisterously searching through the maze of vendors and carefully examining each stall for a satisfying meal. It was on this particular day that, for the first time in my life, I was on my own in a completely foreign country, free to traverse wherever I pleased. As I began inspecting a particular basket of fried delicacies, something on a street corner caught my eye. A man, probably younger than his appearance suggested, sat on a plastic, red, four-legged stool that only had three legs still attached. He held out a grimy styrofoam cup, waiting with a look of utter desolation as he watched people quickly whisk by, not even sparing a passing glance. I tentatively fingered the money in my pocket.
Taiwan had been a dream come true. I was thrilled with the endless experiences I had gained, the unique shopping, and the immaculate cuisine. But what about this man? It was clear that he would have loved to engage in these activities too, and we both knew what a difficult aspiration that would be. Throughout my life, I had been taught to always be wary of the homeless as many of them ruined their lives through their own accord. Nonetheless, I could not help but feel sorry for him, seeing him sitting there on some archaic, broken stool, shamelessly begging for sustenance. My mind wandered to similar situations I had encountered while walking the streets of New York City. I would spot a homeless man or woman, cloaked in a ragged blanket, shaking his or her plastic cup filled with meager sums. People would simply pass by, preoccupied by their deadlines or meetings; on occasion, someone kindhearted enough would drop a few cents into the cup, inciting a chain reaction of charitableness as countless numbers of people mirrored the stranger's actions. I could not help but wonder how those same people would have reacted if that sole individual had not dropped his donation into the cup.
But I suppose that is just how society works nowadays. Give not to give, but give because there is an obligation. There I was, standing by a steaming basket of intoxicating delicacies, deciding whether to make that man's day or simply continue with my carefree exploration. I soon realized that my decision to purchase a meal would have no profound effect on my life nor the lives around me. Sure, I would be satisfied; sure, the vendor would earn some money that day to feed his family back home - but that was all. If I gave that man some money, I reckoned, maybe the others watching would follow my actions. Maybe my single, insignificant act of unconditional kindness would inspire others in a metropolis all the way around the world to do the same. It did not matter that I was in a foreign country harboring a completely different culture than my own. I straightened my posture and crossed the street with fierce determination. I was a questioning child no longer. I reached the man on the stool and savored the satisfying clank of my coins hitting the bottom of his cup. He looked up at me, and I watched as deep, sinking wrinkles brimming with years of experience formed around this dry lips and abyssal eyes as he flashed me a dazzling smile that contradicted his entire demeanor. Maybe, I thought, I did not have to spend much on my meal after all.
MY ESSAY: (didn't think of a title yet.. working on it!)
The comforting scent of exotic street food wafted up my nostrils as I passed the rows of vendors lined up along the street. It was a sweltering hot day in Taiwan, but I was extremely excited to have been given the opportunity to travel there with my sister and a few close friends. We decided to split up, boisterously searching through the maze of vendors and carefully examining each stall for a satisfying meal. It was on this particular day that, for the first time in my life, I was on my own in a completely foreign country, free to traverse wherever I pleased. As I began inspecting a particular basket of fried delicacies, something on a street corner caught my eye. A man, probably younger than his appearance suggested, sat on a plastic, red, four-legged stool that only had three legs still attached. He held out a grimy styrofoam cup, waiting with a look of utter desolation as he watched people quickly whisk by, not even sparing a passing glance. I tentatively fingered the money in my pocket.
Taiwan had been a dream come true. I was thrilled with the endless experiences I had gained, the unique shopping, and the immaculate cuisine. But what about this man? It was clear that he would have loved to engage in these activities too, and we both knew what a difficult aspiration that would be. Throughout my life, I had been taught to always be wary of the homeless as many of them ruined their lives through their own accord. Nonetheless, I could not help but feel sorry for him, seeing him sitting there on some archaic, broken stool, shamelessly begging for sustenance. My mind wandered to similar situations I had encountered while walking the streets of New York City. I would spot a homeless man or woman, cloaked in a ragged blanket, shaking his or her plastic cup filled with meager sums. People would simply pass by, preoccupied by their deadlines or meetings; on occasion, someone kindhearted enough would drop a few cents into the cup, inciting a chain reaction of charitableness as countless numbers of people mirrored the stranger's actions. I could not help but wonder how those same people would have reacted if that sole individual had not dropped his donation into the cup.
But I suppose that is just how society works nowadays. Give not to give, but give because there is an obligation. There I was, standing by a steaming basket of intoxicating delicacies, deciding whether to make that man's day or simply continue with my carefree exploration. I soon realized that my decision to purchase a meal would have no profound effect on my life nor the lives around me. Sure, I would be satisfied; sure, the vendor would earn some money that day to feed his family back home - but that was all. If I gave that man some money, I reckoned, maybe the others watching would follow my actions. Maybe my single, insignificant act of unconditional kindness would inspire others in a metropolis all the way around the world to do the same. It did not matter that I was in a foreign country harboring a completely different culture than my own. I straightened my posture and crossed the street with fierce determination. I was a questioning child no longer. I reached the man on the stool and savored the satisfying clank of my coins hitting the bottom of his cup. He looked up at me, and I watched as deep, sinking wrinkles brimming with years of experience formed around this dry lips and abyssal eyes as he flashed me a dazzling smile that contradicted his entire demeanor. Maybe, I thought, I did not have to spend much on my meal after all.
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