Feel Its Embrace, Soak It In

Glance, now with closed eyes, sporadic dots of color materialize and vision becomes distorted. With open eyes, warnings come of burning up corneas. To touch would be impossible but its heat and light kisses the surface of the earth and all that stands in the path of its glorious rays. Beautiful colors spread like melting butter on bread in the sky as it rises and sets. When it rises, it frightens the darkness away as if it were a shepherd protecting its flocks from the ravenous wolves. Then, at the end of the day its job is through and it slumbers to a different part of our harsh world to smile upon the awaiting people. Light glistens and reflects off of anything that refuses to accept the triumphant rays. Creating energy proves its unbelievable strength and power which provides so much, but by many goes unnoticed. Yet, its exquisite beauty mesmerizes countless people. Feel its embrace, soak it in, for tomorrow it will hopefully be back again.

My Favorite Scar

It happened during the summer of 2008 while I was playing county league softball. I was on second base waiting for my chance to run to third. The girl who was up to bat hit the ball right over the infield and it rolled passed the outfield. I took off as soon as I heard the crack of the bat. I looked up at the third base coach as he yelled and motioned to me to head home. I rounded third base, not knowing where the ball was but noticing that the catcher had moved forward to prepare to get me out. I was a couple feet away dropped down and slid. I was safe! As I went to get up I couldn’t put all of my weight on my left leg. So I limped off of the field and took a seat in the dugout. I slowly rose up my pant leg to reveal blood slowly but surely coming out of my leg. My skin had been removed from a few inches above my ankle to my knee and was about 3 inches wide. The team gathered around making sure that I was okay. In pain, but still glad that I had made a run for my team I told them that I was fine but that I needed to get something on my leg and quick. Some of the girls on my team had little sisters with them so they ran into the bathroom and brought me a few paper towels. I went over to the concession stand to ask them if they had any band-aids, and of course they didn’t. So I kept the paper towels on it and got it to stop bleeding just in time for me to go back out on the field. In the end, we won the game. I went home and right away put Neosporin and a wrap around my leg. I did this everyday so that I wouldn’t have an ugly scar for my whole life, and I don’t. If you don’t look hard enough you can’t even notice it. I know it’s there though, and that I took one for the team, even though I was later told that I didn’t have to slide. I call it, my battle wound.

Me As A Writer

No, I don’t remember the first time that I picked up a pen, pencil, or crayon. I don’t remember what the first word I learned to write was, but I do remember writing the word “cat” on a pencil container we have when I was around four years old. I also remember my mom not being to happy about that. But, what can I say? Sometimes you just have to write about what you like, and at this time in my life I absolutely loved my cats.

I have many memories of writing, but not as many as I wish that I could remember. The one that really stood out to me when I was thinking about writing this paper was a time in elementary.

In second grade one of the requirements was to write, illustrate, and share our stories. It was my turn to share, so I stood up so excited to tell my class about my Christmas. I went on and on about what I did that day, what presents I got, and my ride up north to see all of my other family members. At the end of my story I said something about me and my sister Charlotte arguing about who got the best present. It made everyone else laugh so I just laughed right along. When the laughing ceased, my teacher gave me the “I‘m ashamed of you look” and then asked me one simple question.

“Did you really want everyone to know that?”

“Know what?” I replied innocently.

“That you and your sister fight?”

I don’t remember what I said back to her exactly. I haven’t thought about how her questioning my writing has effected me today. Until now. Now that I think of it, I have noticed that when I look back at the papers I have written, I am questioning myself. At times in writing papers, this can be a good thing but at the same time it can also be a bad. You can examine your writing and change little spots in it that you wish to, but to have the feeling that your whole paper just isn’t right can make your confidence wither down. Having the thoughts run through your head that someone is going to say something that you don’t want to hear on the paper that you spent so much time working on is a moment I dread.

I am happy and at the same time unhappy about what my second grade teacher said to me. What she said has made me over think my writing so I feel like it’s not good enough, but she has also helped me in the way that I look more carefully through my papers I have or have to write. Every experience we have has a positive and negative effect. We just have to decide on which effect to pay more attention too.

To come out of the cave on my writing is what I hope to learn to do this year. It will take time, and it is something that I have to change. “Don‘t be afraid to change. You may loose something good, but you may gain something better.”