It starts with a wonderful, humorous touch, but describes vividly and movingly the young boy's first experience with death and with personal responsibility. In reading this essay, I get a strong impression of the kind of person this young man must be, someone full of good humor, but great sensitivity as well. His easy way with the language convinces me that he would be an excellent student, and a welcome addition to the class. This was a nicely written piece. This student took time to think about this experience and was able to articulate his memories of his fishing adventure rather well.
This could have been another bland essay but the writer took you on the adventure with him, from boyhood to manhood. I like the way he took his fishing adventure and transitioned to his life today and how and what he learned from it. What I liked most about the essay was that the writer told of an experience in his childhood and was able to take that experience and make the connection to his life and goals of today.
A faint twinge of excitement floated through my body that night. A hint of anticipation of the coming day could not be suppressed; yet to be overcome with anxiety would not do at all. I arduously forced those pernicious thoughts from seeping in and overcoming my body and mind. I still wonder that I slept at all that night. But I did.
I slept soundly and comfortably as those nervous deliberations crept into my defenseless, unsuspecting mind, pilfering my calm composure. When I awoke refreshed, I found my mind swarming with jumbled exhilaration. The adrenaline was flowing already. After a quick breakfast, I pulled some of my gear together and headed out.
The car ride of two hours seemed only a few moments as I struggled to reinstate order in my chaotic consciousness and focus my mind on the day before me. My thoughts drifted to the indistinct shadows of my memory. My opponent's name was John Doe. There were other competitors at the tournament, but they had never posed any threat to my title. For as long as I had competed in this tournament, I had easily taken the black belt championship in my division. John, however, was the most phenomenal martial artist I had ever had the honor of witnessing at my young age of thirteen.
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And he was in my division. Although he was the same rank, age, size, and weight as I, he surpassed me in almost every aspect of our training. His feet were lightning, and his hands were virtually invisible in their agile swiftness. He wielded the power of a bear while appearing no larger than I. His form and techniques were executed with near perfection.
Although I had never defeated his flawlessness before, victory did not seem unattainable. For even though he was extraordinary, he was not much more talented than I. I am not saying that he was not skilled or even that he was not more skilled than I, for he most certainly was, but just not much more than I. I still had one hope, however little, of vanquishing this incredible adversary, for John had one weakness: he was lazy. He didn't enjoy practicing long hours or working hard. He didn't have to. Nevertheless, I had found my passage to triumph.
My mind raced even farther back to all my other failures. I must admit that my record was not very impressive. Never before had I completed anything. I played soccer. I quit. I was a Cub Scout. I played trumpet. Karate was all I had left. The championship meant so much because I had never persevered with anything else. In the last months, I had trained with unearthly stamina and determination. I had focused all my energies into practicing for this sole aspiration. Every day of the week I trained. Every evening, I could be found kicking, blocking, and punching at an imaginary opponent in my room.
Hours of constant drilling had improved my techniques and speed. All my techniques were ingrained to the point where they were instinctive. Days and weeks passed too swiftly. I was abruptly jolted back into the present. The car was pulling into the parking lot. The tournament had too quickly arrived, and I still did not feel prepared for the trial which I was to confront. I stepped out of the car into the bright morning sun, and with my equipment bag in hand, walked into the towering building. The day was a blur. After warming up and stretching, I sat down on the cold wooden floor, closed my eyes, and focused.
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I cleared my mind of every thought, every worry, and every insecurity. When I opened my eyes, every sense and nerve had become sharp and attentive, every motion finely tuned and deliberate. The preliminary rounds were quiet and painless, and the championship fight was suddenly before me.
I could see that John looked as calm and as confident as ever. Adrenaline raced through my body as I stepped into the ring. We bowed to each other and to the instructor, and the match began. I apologize, but I do not recall most of the fight. I do faintly remember that when time ran out the score was tied, and we were forced to go into Sudden Death: whoever scored the next point would win.
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That, however, I do recall. I was tired. The grueling two points that I had won already had not been enough. I needed one more before I could taste triumph.
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I was determined to win, though I had little energy remaining. John appeared unfazed, but I couldn't allow him to discourage me.
I focused my entire being, my entire consciousness, on overcoming this invincible nemesis. I charged. All my strenuous training, every molecule in my body, every last drop of desire was directed, concentrated on that single purpose as I exploded through his defenses and drove a solitary fist to its mark.
I was not aware that I would never fight John again, but I would not have cared. Never before had I held this prize in my hands, but through pure, salty sweat and vicious determination, the achievement that I had desired so dearly and which meant so much to me was mine at last. This was the first time that I had ever really made a notable accomplishment in anything. This one experience, this one instant, changed me forever.
That day I found self-confidence and discovered that perseverance yields its own sweet fruit. That day a sense of invincibility permeated the air. Mountains were nothing.
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The sun wasn't so bright and brilliant anymore. It was on a Tuesday morning, when I experienced my first labor pain.
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Without hesitation, I immediately reached for my cell phone to contact my husband, but it went straight to voicemail. I had no means to reach him, because Shaw Air Force Base was having a war readiness exercise. My mind had to quickly accept the fact that my bundle of joy was coming eight days early, according to the estimated due date Nothing dangerous or crazy happened, but my heart was changed. Suddenly, everything made sense to me and I knew what journey I was going to take and why I was going to take it.
The funny thing about all of this is, it was one kindergartner who opened my eyes. I had been volunteering in a kindergarten classroom during my study hall my sophomore year I had to grow up faster than most kids. I had to take on a lot of responsibility when my mom got sick; my new responsibilities also helped me become more mature. I learned a lot of valuable things when my mom was sick.
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