Thursday, May 28, 2020

Appreciating the Jagged Leaf - 550 Words

Appreciating the Jagged Leaf (Admission Essay Sample) Content: Appreciating the Jagged Leaf You would not believe how hard it is to get a perfectly jagged leaf just under a bay leaf tree. I know; I have tried it. See, my grandfather made a wish that we should all cover his portrait in leaves at his funeral, for whatever reason. "He always had a thing for the imperfect. He would appreciate a leaf that is not too smooth-edged," I thought, trying to smile but I could not. How could I smile when I was never going to see the one person who was the biggest influence in my life again? I was only eleven then, but deep down I knew that no other person would be as influential to me as he was. Thankfully, as it dawns on me every so often, he left me enough lessons to last a lifetime. My grandmother always seemed to frown at everything he did, as did my parents. See, I was a very rebellious child and he had a soft spot for me. Every wrong thing I did (wrong according to my parents) he seemed to understand on a level everyone else could not. I remember one time when I dropped and broke the most expensive bowl at home. I was only seven but my parents were incensed. I did not understand it, because it was just a bowl, as grandpa said when they scolded me. He had me collect the pieces and create whatever I wanted with them. I would construct my own version of the Batman movie character. It did not come off too well, but boy, was it gratifying! I could not wait to share the experience with grandpa. However, he sat me down after congratulating me and pointed out that soup could not be served in my batman model, but that no one could buy such a creation of batman as the one in my bedroom either. I pondered upon those words that night, but could not make much of them. What I though made sense though, is that my parents valued their possessions more than they valued me. How could they scold me for breaking a bowl? I vowed to be a rebel to punish them. My mode of rebellion involved drawing the places I imagined I would escape home for. The one person who was in on everything I did was grandpa. He enquired about my mission to run away and pointed out how much preparation I needed before then. He made good points so I put it off every time. Soon, I graduated to graffiti painting on my bedroom walls because I enjoyed it and it drew the ire of my parents. I never quite gathered enough resources to run from home. I also softe...

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