Prompt: Write a memoir about a person, place, or thing that is meaningful to you.
Having an older sister is both a curse and a gift. An older sister can be your resource helping you in the time of need, a shoulder to cry on when you face setbacks in life, or simply the person who is there just to brighten your day. She is that one friend whom you can trust with your personal secrets knowing that she will understand. On the downside she can be mean, irritating, and bossy which can easily get on your nerves. She is that sneaky teenager whom you always have to put up with and listen to just because she is the "older one." But there will be many times when you need your sister, and she will be there. My sister, has always been there for me; she is the one I turn to when I need help or moral support. Now looking back, there were many times in the past when she was my angel from heaven.
Sixth Grade: Math Class
Sixth grade can be rough, especially if you just moved to a new school. My sixth grade year didn't start off amazingly, like it does in movies. In fact, it was the exact opposite- depressing, lonely, and scary. On top of trying to make new friends, I had to struggle trying to pass my new honors/ pre-algebra class. Math had never been a problem in elementary school; I never even had to practice for any of my quizzes or tests; I just did my homework and nailed my assessments! But, sixth grade was like no other; I knew right from the start that I would have trouble just making it through the class. Before I knew it, my teacher had given our class our first quiz. Each problem felt like a roller coaster ride. When I finally got an answer for a problem, it felt like weight was lifted off my shoulders, but then another load of weight was dropped on me. Time ticked by, but the forty minutes I had to do the quiz weren't enough; I needed more time to make sure my answers were all correct. As I got through every problem my heart beat got faster and faster. Sweat poured down my face as I writhed through the exam, but I had a strong feeling that I had at least achieved an A. When I came home, I was greeted with sad news. It turned out that I had received a 72 on my math quiz. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I froze, unable to digest the news. How could this be possible? I thought I had done so well besides the misgivings I had about two questions. How could two mistakes bring my grade down that much? Instead of asking for help I kept my grade a secret because I knew that I would be in major trouble if my parents found out.
The next day, I strolled into class with a fake expression of happiness so no one would know that I had just failed the math quiz. As I sat in my cold seat in math class, the kids around me started muttering about how easy yesterday's math quiz had been. I was not only morose about my performance on the exam, but now I felt crushed inside because I didn't have anyone to share my thoughts with. I felt as though I didn't belong and kept thinking that that my fifth grade teacher might have made a mistake placing me in the honors class. That day when the teacher finally gave back the math quiz, after what felt like ages, I simply could not understand what I had done wrong. All the vague negative and positive numbers confused me so much that I felt like pulling my hair out. Days passed by and when it came time for my second quiz of the year, I had no confidence left inside of me that I would pass this class. I can't even get the homework problems correct, how will I be able to pass this quiz? I kept thinking. When I failed my second quiz with an even worse score, a 64, I knew that it was time to surrender and tell my parents that I was having trouble with school. Before I told them, my sister pulled me aside to tell me something important.
Even though I thought that I was the only one who knew about my disgraceful grades, my sister had known all along. She had been carefully monitoring me to see how long it would be before I would finally decide to tell my parents. But she had something different planned out. Rather than snitching to my parents about my grades and getting me into trouble, she started to tutor me without me even asking. She explained to me the time schedule we would have for a tutoring session every day at six o'clock sharp when she would sit down with me and help me with my math homework and give me some invaluable tips. The day came when I was to take my third assessment. This one was the difference between life and death. It was a huge TEST! It had way more questions than my previous quizzes and my teacher told us that we should study extra hard for this test. Unlike the previous times when I had sweat through my exam, this time I breezed through it. In fact, I was the third one to be done even after I checked my work a hundred million times. That afternoon when I was doing my homework, she came up to me with a huge grin on her face. "I just checked on Genesis, and you passed you math test with flying colors, Sis," she acclaimed with delight.
"That depends, what do you consider a passing grade?" I questioned, still unsure whether it was time to celebrate.
"96!" she exclaimed ecstatically. I jumped for joy. I couldn't believe that I had actually earned a 96 on my math quiz; my happiness couldn't possibly be put into words. Without a second thought, I sprang out of my seat and gave my sister a bear hug.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you so much," I whispered as tears of joy rolled down my cheeks.
"Anything for my sister," she whispered back.
For all the bad memories I have of my sister, there are five times as many good ones. My sister will always be there for me even in the future. She has and will continue to help me through the challenges in life, and I know that I am very lucky to have her. No one can replace the love and the bond that my sister and I share. As Barbara Apelt once said, "Sister. She is your mirror, shining back at you with a world of possibilities. She is your witness, who sees you at your worst and best, and loves you anyway." My sister became another part of me, the other half that will always have my back whenever and wherever I may be.
Having an older sister is both a curse and a gift. An older sister can be your resource helping you in the time of need, a shoulder to cry on when you face setbacks in life, or simply the person who is there just to brighten your day. She is that one friend whom you can trust with your personal secrets knowing that she will understand. On the downside she can be mean, irritating, and bossy which can easily get on your nerves. She is that sneaky teenager whom you always have to put up with and listen to just because she is the "older one." But there will be many times when you need your sister, and she will be there. My sister, has always been there for me; she is the one I turn to when I need help or moral support. Now looking back, there were many times in the past when she was my angel from heaven.
Sixth Grade: Math Class
Sixth grade can be rough, especially if you just moved to a new school. My sixth grade year didn't start off amazingly, like it does in movies. In fact, it was the exact opposite- depressing, lonely, and scary. On top of trying to make new friends, I had to struggle trying to pass my new honors/ pre-algebra class. Math had never been a problem in elementary school; I never even had to practice for any of my quizzes or tests; I just did my homework and nailed my assessments! But, sixth grade was like no other; I knew right from the start that I would have trouble just making it through the class. Before I knew it, my teacher had given our class our first quiz. Each problem felt like a roller coaster ride. When I finally got an answer for a problem, it felt like weight was lifted off my shoulders, but then another load of weight was dropped on me. Time ticked by, but the forty minutes I had to do the quiz weren't enough; I needed more time to make sure my answers were all correct. As I got through every problem my heart beat got faster and faster. Sweat poured down my face as I writhed through the exam, but I had a strong feeling that I had at least achieved an A. When I came home, I was greeted with sad news. It turned out that I had received a 72 on my math quiz. Tears welled up in my eyes, and I froze, unable to digest the news. How could this be possible? I thought I had done so well besides the misgivings I had about two questions. How could two mistakes bring my grade down that much? Instead of asking for help I kept my grade a secret because I knew that I would be in major trouble if my parents found out.
The next day, I strolled into class with a fake expression of happiness so no one would know that I had just failed the math quiz. As I sat in my cold seat in math class, the kids around me started muttering about how easy yesterday's math quiz had been. I was not only morose about my performance on the exam, but now I felt crushed inside because I didn't have anyone to share my thoughts with. I felt as though I didn't belong and kept thinking that that my fifth grade teacher might have made a mistake placing me in the honors class. That day when the teacher finally gave back the math quiz, after what felt like ages, I simply could not understand what I had done wrong. All the vague negative and positive numbers confused me so much that I felt like pulling my hair out. Days passed by and when it came time for my second quiz of the year, I had no confidence left inside of me that I would pass this class. I can't even get the homework problems correct, how will I be able to pass this quiz? I kept thinking. When I failed my second quiz with an even worse score, a 64, I knew that it was time to surrender and tell my parents that I was having trouble with school. Before I told them, my sister pulled me aside to tell me something important.
Even though I thought that I was the only one who knew about my disgraceful grades, my sister had known all along. She had been carefully monitoring me to see how long it would be before I would finally decide to tell my parents. But she had something different planned out. Rather than snitching to my parents about my grades and getting me into trouble, she started to tutor me without me even asking. She explained to me the time schedule we would have for a tutoring session every day at six o'clock sharp when she would sit down with me and help me with my math homework and give me some invaluable tips. The day came when I was to take my third assessment. This one was the difference between life and death. It was a huge TEST! It had way more questions than my previous quizzes and my teacher told us that we should study extra hard for this test. Unlike the previous times when I had sweat through my exam, this time I breezed through it. In fact, I was the third one to be done even after I checked my work a hundred million times. That afternoon when I was doing my homework, she came up to me with a huge grin on her face. "I just checked on Genesis, and you passed you math test with flying colors, Sis," she acclaimed with delight.
"That depends, what do you consider a passing grade?" I questioned, still unsure whether it was time to celebrate.
"96!" she exclaimed ecstatically. I jumped for joy. I couldn't believe that I had actually earned a 96 on my math quiz; my happiness couldn't possibly be put into words. Without a second thought, I sprang out of my seat and gave my sister a bear hug.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you so much," I whispered as tears of joy rolled down my cheeks.
"Anything for my sister," she whispered back.
For all the bad memories I have of my sister, there are five times as many good ones. My sister will always be there for me even in the future. She has and will continue to help me through the challenges in life, and I know that I am very lucky to have her. No one can replace the love and the bond that my sister and I share. As Barbara Apelt once said, "Sister. She is your mirror, shining back at you with a world of possibilities. She is your witness, who sees you at your worst and best, and loves you anyway." My sister became another part of me, the other half that will always have my back whenever and wherever I may be.
