(no subject)
if you guys are bored you should read my english narrative and critique it. i need some outside input on it, and if you comment on it i will love you forever.
Vanessa Burri
September, 15th 2005
1117-03
Life
At the age of six, my life was going perfectly. I lived in a two story house with my mother and father on the corner of a friendly neighborhood. I had many friends that lived near me, and we would play together all day. Not only did I have friends from the neighborhood, but I also had my uncle Mike as a friend.
Mike was my favorite adult. He had brown hair the color of dark chocolate and a large moustache. His dark brown eyes were surrounded by the bulky rims of his large eye glasses. He always had a big smile on his face, which was complemented by his plump cheeks. He was my uncle and also my godfather, but more than that he was one of my best friends. Being his only niece, I was extremely spoiled with gifts from Mike.
One Christmas, when I was about three years old, I received at least fifteen children's books from him and his wife. Each book had a note at the end of it telling me things such as, “Always look on the bright side of life,” which was my uncle’s favorite saying. Mike gave me many memories at a young age that have stayed vivid in my mind. My best memory of him was the time he taught me how to draw a star.
I was at my grandmother's house sitting at her kitchen table. I had been bound and determined that day to learn how to draw something new. For hours I doodled on a piece of notebook paper trying to draw a star, when the doorbell rang. I was joyful to see Mike standing in the doorway. Quickly, I showed him my doodles and told him of my dilemma. Mike always knew what to do and motioned for me to come into the living room. Sitting next to Mike on the floor, I held the pencil in my hand. "First," he said, "draw the letter 'V' just like the first letter of your name." With my tongue resting in the corner of my lips and my eyes focused on the paper, I drew the letter. He continued showing me where to draw the lines of the star. When I completed my drawing, I was very happy with my work.
Burri, 2
I was so excited to be able to draw this new design that I drew it many times over, showing everyone in sight.
I would always be happy to play cards, read, or draw with my uncle, but as time went by I began to see Mike less and less. Completely oblivious at that age, I asked my father where my uncle was. My father said he would take me to see him. With a smile on my face, I grabbed my coat and ran to the car. As we were driving, I peered out the car window and recognized that we were downtown, but I hadn't been in this area of the city before. My father parked the car next to a large building so tall it touched the clouds. Holding his hand, we walked up many stairs and entered the building. The place was cold and crowded. I could hear my footsteps on the floor, as we walked through the halls of what my father told me was a hospital. Finally, we arrived at a room and my uncle was lying in a bed of white sheets. There were tubes everywhere and the only color in the room were from the flowers and balloons in the corner next to his bed.
I looked at Mike and he had a big smile on his face, like he always did. His hair was thinning, but I figured that at the age of 32, that was normal. I got to pretend to be a nurse and put a blue mask on my face. I had a lot of fun, and I couldn't wait to come back. In the next few months I visited my friend in his white room at the big hospital that touched the clouds, but as time went by my visits became less and less. During my last visit to my uncle, I noticed that his looks had changed. His dark-chocolate colored hair was gone along with his plump cheeks. He appeared to be very weak and frail. He always had a smile on his face though, and was optimistic to the fact that he would get better. I knew Mike was sick, but I would remember to “look on the bright side of life” like he always told me to do and would think positively.
One morning, I woke up ready to start the day and play with my friends. I walked down the hall and into the living room. My mother and father were sitting on the living room floor with serious looks on their faces. My father was clinging to a small newspaper clipping that had Mike's picture on it. He
Burri, 3
showed it to me and I questioned him, "Why is Mike in the newspaper?" I was excited because only famous people got to be in the newspaper. My father started crying then as he told me, "Mike is dead.
He died of cancer last night." My heart started racing. I couldn't believe what my father was saying. I ran to my room and slammed the door, tears streaming down my face.
A few days later I got to see my uncle Mike for the last time. My parents called it a "wake." When we arrived at the wake, I was greeted by sad faces and dark clothes. My parents and I walked into a large room and my father trembled as we crept closer to where my uncle was. Mike lay very still, as he slept in a bed surrounded by beautiful flowers. Everyone was quiet as to not wake him up. I decided to write him a note, because my parents told me it would be a good idea.
Dear Mike,
I hope you feel better. I really liked playing games with you. I love you.
I signed my name and placed it next to him. I sat out in the hall waiting for my parents. When they appeared, they looked very sad. I had never seen them cry like this before.
To this day I think about my uncle Mike frequently - the way he always had a smile on his face and how his optimism shined through his cancer. He taught me that you should always believe that your glass is half full, and that when life throws you obstacles, you should try your hardest to overcome them. After all, you should always “look on the bright side of life.”
Vanessa Burri
September, 15th 2005
1117-03
Life
At the age of six, my life was going perfectly. I lived in a two story house with my mother and father on the corner of a friendly neighborhood. I had many friends that lived near me, and we would play together all day. Not only did I have friends from the neighborhood, but I also had my uncle Mike as a friend.
Mike was my favorite adult. He had brown hair the color of dark chocolate and a large moustache. His dark brown eyes were surrounded by the bulky rims of his large eye glasses. He always had a big smile on his face, which was complemented by his plump cheeks. He was my uncle and also my godfather, but more than that he was one of my best friends. Being his only niece, I was extremely spoiled with gifts from Mike.
One Christmas, when I was about three years old, I received at least fifteen children's books from him and his wife. Each book had a note at the end of it telling me things such as, “Always look on the bright side of life,” which was my uncle’s favorite saying. Mike gave me many memories at a young age that have stayed vivid in my mind. My best memory of him was the time he taught me how to draw a star.
I was at my grandmother's house sitting at her kitchen table. I had been bound and determined that day to learn how to draw something new. For hours I doodled on a piece of notebook paper trying to draw a star, when the doorbell rang. I was joyful to see Mike standing in the doorway. Quickly, I showed him my doodles and told him of my dilemma. Mike always knew what to do and motioned for me to come into the living room. Sitting next to Mike on the floor, I held the pencil in my hand. "First," he said, "draw the letter 'V' just like the first letter of your name." With my tongue resting in the corner of my lips and my eyes focused on the paper, I drew the letter. He continued showing me where to draw the lines of the star. When I completed my drawing, I was very happy with my work.
Burri, 2
I was so excited to be able to draw this new design that I drew it many times over, showing everyone in sight.
I would always be happy to play cards, read, or draw with my uncle, but as time went by I began to see Mike less and less. Completely oblivious at that age, I asked my father where my uncle was. My father said he would take me to see him. With a smile on my face, I grabbed my coat and ran to the car. As we were driving, I peered out the car window and recognized that we were downtown, but I hadn't been in this area of the city before. My father parked the car next to a large building so tall it touched the clouds. Holding his hand, we walked up many stairs and entered the building. The place was cold and crowded. I could hear my footsteps on the floor, as we walked through the halls of what my father told me was a hospital. Finally, we arrived at a room and my uncle was lying in a bed of white sheets. There were tubes everywhere and the only color in the room were from the flowers and balloons in the corner next to his bed.
I looked at Mike and he had a big smile on his face, like he always did. His hair was thinning, but I figured that at the age of 32, that was normal. I got to pretend to be a nurse and put a blue mask on my face. I had a lot of fun, and I couldn't wait to come back. In the next few months I visited my friend in his white room at the big hospital that touched the clouds, but as time went by my visits became less and less. During my last visit to my uncle, I noticed that his looks had changed. His dark-chocolate colored hair was gone along with his plump cheeks. He appeared to be very weak and frail. He always had a smile on his face though, and was optimistic to the fact that he would get better. I knew Mike was sick, but I would remember to “look on the bright side of life” like he always told me to do and would think positively.
One morning, I woke up ready to start the day and play with my friends. I walked down the hall and into the living room. My mother and father were sitting on the living room floor with serious looks on their faces. My father was clinging to a small newspaper clipping that had Mike's picture on it. He
Burri, 3
showed it to me and I questioned him, "Why is Mike in the newspaper?" I was excited because only famous people got to be in the newspaper. My father started crying then as he told me, "Mike is dead.
He died of cancer last night." My heart started racing. I couldn't believe what my father was saying. I ran to my room and slammed the door, tears streaming down my face.
A few days later I got to see my uncle Mike for the last time. My parents called it a "wake." When we arrived at the wake, I was greeted by sad faces and dark clothes. My parents and I walked into a large room and my father trembled as we crept closer to where my uncle was. Mike lay very still, as he slept in a bed surrounded by beautiful flowers. Everyone was quiet as to not wake him up. I decided to write him a note, because my parents told me it would be a good idea.
Dear Mike,
I hope you feel better. I really liked playing games with you. I love you.
I signed my name and placed it next to him. I sat out in the hall waiting for my parents. When they appeared, they looked very sad. I had never seen them cry like this before.
To this day I think about my uncle Mike frequently - the way he always had a smile on his face and how his optimism shined through his cancer. He taught me that you should always believe that your glass is half full, and that when life throws you obstacles, you should try your hardest to overcome them. After all, you should always “look on the bright side of life.”