A Lesson Taught By Tragedies

Tragedies.  They are unexpected and devastating.  But we never think they will happen to us.  We hear about them every day on the news.  About how those people just went to work and the next thing they knew, plane was crashing through the building.  Or, how those children just went to school ready for another average day, when some of them, watched their friends be shot dead.  But the parents of the kids who died never could have guessed that by sending their child to school that day, would be the last time they saw their child’s precious smile, or little feet that carried them into the death trap.  They never would have guessed that this tragedy could happen to them.

It’s not fair.  It’s not fair that some people have to suffer more pain than others.  But that’s the way life is; not fair.  All the pain that ended lives, never died.  Instead, it haunted every person who ever knew the victim.  It drags the tears down their face, it rips their heart to shreds.  But there is no way to avoid them.  No way to protect yourself from all harm.  No way to be certain that a tragedy won’t happen to you.

What would our life be without tragedies?  Everyone would think it would be better.  Yet, tragedies teach us things we could not learn without them.  We take everything for granted and without tragedies, we would never learn to love the ordinary.  To realize how blessed we really are.   That everything we have is good.  That we get to be around the people we love, and we better love them while we can because tragedies don’t have mercy for anyone; not even innocent children who just went to school like any other day.

The Pen Never Stops Writing

Life is a journey.  We learn a lot along the way.  Whether we’re learning how to walk, or learning how to become a doctor, we don’t realize the significance of it at the time.  We don’t realize how every day our life story is being scrawled out just a little bit longer.  We don’t realize that one day we will run out of paper to write on because the pen never stops writing.

Everyone knows that they will die eventually.  Some are afraid, others are accepting.  People ponder upon how it will happen, when it will happen.  But why waste your time.  You only have so much before you will wonder no more about death.  Instead of contemplating about your death, prepare yourself for it.  Make sure that every minute you live has a purpose.  You are on the Earth for a reason.  You have to find that reason.  Make the most of your life, because the pen never stops writing.

When you read your story at the end of your life, don’t let it be a boring one.  You have to make it just the way you want it, but you’ve only got one shot.  There are no second chances.  You have to be the person you want people to remember you as, whether that is a leader or a follower, a fun person or a serious person, a happy person or a sad person.  You have to choose your story, and you’d better do it quick, because the pen never stops writing.

The people who are clinging to life, with only hours left to live, are the only people that understand what life truly means.  They understand that every second is precious and should not be overlooked. They understand that you have to make mistakes in life for it to be complete.  They understand that life is short and no matter what happens, you have to smile; because you never know when everything will be taken from you.  Always remember that one day you will run out of paper.  One day your story will be over.  Always remember that no matter what happens, the pen never stops writing.

Too Late

            “Hurry Michael! Grab your cleats! We are going to be late!”  I urged climbing into the car.  Michael grabbed his cleats and baseball bag and hopped into the car instantly.  I began to back out of the driveway. “Wait!  Mom, I forgot a water bottle!”  Michael called from the back seat.  I pulled the car back to the top of the driveway and he jumped out to go get his water bottle.  A few minutes later Michael came running out of the house.  He was almost to the car when I heard a scream.  I looked to see Michael on the concrete.  I got out of the car and sat down next to him.  There were scrapes on both his knees, hands, and elbows.  “Michael, you’ll be okay.” I told him as I hugged him.  I went inside and found his favorite superman band-aids.  I grabbed one for his left knee and elbow.  The other scrapes weren’t bleeding anymore.  I washed up his cuts as quickly as possible and put on the two band-aids.  “You’re a tough little seven year old.”  I told him as I helped him into the car. 

Again I began down the driveway.  When we were on the road Michael began with the question he always asked before every baseball game he had, “Mom, is Dad going to be at the game today?”  And, of course, I hated this question.  I wished that I could make his father come.  He never came to anything for Michael.  He claimed he was busy with work, but when we were married, that never seemed to be the case.  He would sit on the couch and watch the television at home.  I’m sure that he worked hard when he was at his job, but he always went and came home at the same time, never anything special going on that kept him late.  After our divorce three years ago, he didn’t really want to be around Michael or me, but I made him, for Michael’s sake.  Every other Saturday we went somewhere with him; whether it be the zoo, one of our houses, or any other place.  When Michael was five, we started to get busier and now we only see him for Christmas and an occasional visit here or there.  He has been to one of Michael’s baseball games, and Michael could tell you everything about it; what positions he played that game, where each one of his hits went, everything.  Michael, being only seven doesn’t understand that I forced his father to be in his life.  He doesn’t realize that if it were his father’s choice, they would probably never see each other again.  Because of that one game, Michael has hope.  He has hope that while he is stepping up to the plate to hit, out of the corner of his eye, there his father will be, arms crossed, smiling right back at him.  But that can’t ever happen.  He would never do that.   But to respond to Michael’s question. I didn’t want to destroy his hope so I answered “I don’t know Michael.   Maybe.”  As I said this I tried to sound convincing, tried to keep his hope alive but I could tell that I had failed.  As soon as the words were out of my mouth, his face fell. 

After a couple of minutes a smile returned to Michael’s face.  “Are Drew and Uncle Brian going to be there?”  Michael asked, hopeful again.  “Probably.  Drew is on your team.”  I responded.  “Yay!” he cheered.

I was about to turn onto the highway.  Of course, I decided that I had to see his smile.  Little did I know that would be the last time.  There was screeching and squealing, joined by Michael’s now terrified scream.  I will never forget the moment that the other car actually hit us.  Michael’s terrified scream turned into one of agony and pain.  It was worse than the one earlier this morning.  I tried to turn and look at him, but the force of the car held me back.  The glass from the windshield shattered.  The other car had already hit and I could feel pain everywhere.  But there was only one thing that mattered I told myself as my head crashed into the steering wheel.  Then everything suddenly went black.

I woke up in an unfamiliar bed.  My left foot was wrapped up in what I assumed was a cast.  What had happened to me?  There were bandages everywhere.  I looked around the room as much as I could, not being able to move any body part.  I figured out nothing.  A woman walked into the room and called to someone behind her, “She’s awake.”  I slowly started to figure out that I was in a hospital bed.  It was hard to think about anything.  It hurt my head.  Then I remembered my last thought before I blacked out, there is only one thing that matters.  I finished the thought.  Him.  Michael is the only thing that matters.  “Michael?”  I asked.  Pain surged through my head.  I closed my eyes to try and comfort myself.  When I opened them again, my brother Brian was at my side along with some nurses who I ignored.  I looked at Brian, trying to communicate through my eyes.  He knew what I wanted.  He knew the answer to my question.  He knew Michael’s condition.

Brian looked at the nurses sorrowfully.  One of them nodded to him.  Brian began speaking to me, “Krista, this probably one of the hardest things I will ever have to tell you.”  He paused, sighed, and continued  “It’s about Michael.”  He took a deep breath.  “Krista,” he said touching my face lightly, “Michael died.”  Tears dripped down his face as he said the words.  “No.  This cannot be.  No!  No!” I screamed.  Tears streamed down my face like a river; a river of pain.  All of the pain I had felt before from my head was nothing compared to this.  I could hardly feel any pain in my head now.  All of my thoughts were clear.  All of my thoughts were about Michael.  I remembered the first time I’d held him.  His first steps, first day of preschool.  I remembered his cute little smile, with his tiny little perfect teeth.  I remembered everything.

“Mom, is Dad going to be at the game today?”   No.  Of course he wasn’t.  He probably doesn’t even know about Michael’s death.  I have to call him.  Sobbing, I asked Brian for the phone.  “Who are you going to call?”  He asked curiously.  “Liam.” I answered through my sobs.  “Krista, he’s already here.  Do you want me to send him in?”  I thought about it, but everything was just a big tangle in my head.  I gave in and just nodded.

“Kris?”  It was Liam.  He walked slowly and cautiously into the room and knelt at my side.  He wiped a few tears from my face and then said my name again, this time more sympathetically.  I looked at him and then the questions began to flow between my tears.  “Who called you?  Why are you here?  Don’t you know what happened?”  He lifted his hand to stop me.  “Yes, I know what happened.  I was waiting at the field for you and Michael when the hospital called Brian.  He told me briefly what had happened and we both came here as quickly as possible, leaving Drew with his mother at the game.”  He told me, a look of sorrow on his face.  “You asked me why I’m here.  I am here simply because I have to admit something to you.  I knew since the moment Brian told me about the crash and the severity of it  that I was never going to see Michael alive again.  I came here not for him, but for you.  I am here to tell you, you were right.  The last time I talked to you was at Christmas.  Before you left, Michael was sleeping on the couch.  You said to me ‘You know, you’re really going to regret not seeing him grow up.’  At the time I just shrugged my shoulders.  I didn’t completely understand your simple statement.  It was not until just a few days ago that everything seemed to click into place.  I realized that you were right, but I realized too late.”  He paused as a tear rolled down his cheek.  He shook his head as the tears kept coming.  “I’m sorry” He sobbed “for everything.” 

A Clean Well-Lighted Place Analysis

There are several similarities and differences between the story and the film adaption.  Some of the changes made were for the better, while others were for the worse.  I think that the setting should have been different inside the bar, but I liked how when the old man left he walked into darkness with only one light.

The setting in the film adaption was disappointing not only because it did not look like a bar, but also because the old man was inside instead of outside on the patio.  The old man was supposed to be sitting in the shadows, but since he was inside a very light place, there were hardly any shadow to put him in.

I liked the symbolism as the man walked into the dark with only one light to lead him.  It means that he has only one option and no others.  Also it could symbolize that he is going back to his life of depression, sadness and loss.

Killing a Mockingbird

“It’s a sin to kill a mockingbird”(90).  But why?  Simply because “mockingbirds don't do one thing but make music for us to enjoy.  They don't eat up people's gardens, don't nest in corncribs, they don't do one thing but sing their hearts out for us"(90).  In the book To Kill a Mockingbird, there was a lot of symbolism involving birds, especially that of mockingbirds, bluejays and finches.

                Mockingbirds symbolize innocence.  Tom Robinson is clearly an example of a mockingbird.  He was innocent but accused.  “[He] was a dead man the moment Mayella opened her mouth” (247).  He did nothing wrong.  He was a mockingbird.  Another example of a mockingbird is Boo Radley.  Everyone accused him of doing different things.  If something was different in the neighborhood, the cause was Boo.  Also, his name was Arthur Radley, but everyone called him Boo.  He obviously scared them, but they didn’t know him.  They didn’t know the mockingbird he was.

                Bluejays symbolize strength.  The same strength that Mr. Ewell had over Tom Robinson.  The same strength that the town had over Boo Radley.  It was an unfair strength though.  Just because of the color of his skin, Mr. Ewell was more powerful than Tom Robinson.  For Boo, he was outnumbered.  Atticus even said “Shoot all the bluejays you want, if you can hit ‘em….”(90).  Atticus was basically saying, if you can get them, get them, but it isn’t going to be easy.  When you compare both Tom Robinson and Boo Radley’s situations to that, it all makes sense.  It wasn’t going to be easy to go against strength with innocence.

                A finch symbolizes liberty.  Atticus was a true Finch.  He was a Finch because of his family, but that meant much more.  Atticus stood for liberty.  That’s why he defended Tom Robinson.  But finches are often caged, as pets, waiting for their owner to demand them wherever they needed to be, with no voice in the matter.  Atticus had to shoot the dog.  Atticus had to defend Tom Robinson.  Atticus had no choice.  It may not have been what he wanted but since he is a Finch, in more than one way, he obeyed his owner.

                Life was not fair for anyone but the bluejay.  It seemed impossible for innocence and liberty to overcome strength; but they did; it was possible.  No matter what the world thought of them they realized their place.  They realized that they weren’t going to surrender.  They realized that there would be no more sin.  There would be no more killing mockingbirds.

Lessons Learned

Author's Note: This is a piece reflecting on my experience with having a doughnut sale.  It shows my struggles.  It shows my successes.  If you are ever planning a fundraiser, I suggest reading this so that you can see what I struggled with, and make sure that you don't.
Some people think that selling doughnuts to a group of hungry middle school kids wouldn’t be very hard. I didn’t think it would be that hard either until I started putting it all together. What some people think would be very easy, could also be complex.

First of all, I had to make a plan. After I figured out that I was going to sell doughnuts to raise money for the MACC Fund, I started. My mom and I called Pick N Save to see what deals we could get on the doughnuts. We were told that we could get doughnuts for $0.25 a piece. Next I had to get permission. I wrote a proposal and found it pretty easy to convince Mr. Daul to let me do this project since he liked the idea before I showed him my proposal. I filled out the necessary forms, picked the dates, and we were on our way.

Before long, the day came to order the doughnuts. We had to pick the number of doughnuts to buy. We decided to sell 8 dozen a day. The order was being placed and the people at Pick N Save told us that we should have given them at least a 24 hour notice, but still agreed to fill our order. Lesson learned: make sure you give people enough time to do the things you ask them to do. When we came to pick up the doughnuts on the first day, we were all ready. I had tried to make this fundraiser fool proof so that everything would go as planned; but that is next to impossible. We were given the doughnuts and realized we were being charged full price for them. We talked with the bakery and they said that we would just have to buy the doughnuts at full price and call later in the day when store manager was there and we could talk to her about it. Unfortunately, if we would have known who we had talked to on the phone about the doughnuts, the person that said we could get them for $0.25, we might have had more of a chance of getting the doughnuts for that price. Lesson learned: always get the name of the person you are talking to.

We went to school with the doughnuts, and my mom figured out the pricing later in the day. I soon found out that 8 dozen doughnuts was not enough. Lesson learned: 8 dozen doughnuts is not nearly enough for middle school kids who like doughnuts, A LOT! I emailed my mom and had her order more doughnuts for the next day. Since, again, we didn’t order more with a 24 hour notice, not all of the doughnuts were ready the next morning. Since we had to get to school because the sale was starting soon, my mom and I took 12 dozen of the doughnuts that were done and brought them. She then went back to Pick N Save to get the other 6 dozen. From then to the time we waited for my mom to come back was probably some of the most chaotic time of my life. People just kept coming! From the moment I opened the first box to the moment the first 12 dozen were gone, there was no down time. But, as we sold the doughnuts, I realized that we still might not have enough. Unfortunately, I was right. Lesson learned: 18 dozen doughnuts isn’t enough either.

All in all, the fundraiser was a success. We raised $302.20 for the MACC Fund because of generous people. This money will hopefully help find a cure to childhood cancer and related blood diseases. Lesson learned: some things are not as easy as they seem.

The Dream of Perfection

When we are young, we create an image in our head of the person we want to be.  In our mind, this person is perfect.  But as we grow older, the image changes.  For example, a 5-year-old girl.  At that age, she wants to get older, maybe have really long curly hair, and wishes she could be more independent.  They think that when you are older, it is better.  If you were to tell this to a 30-year-old, they would probably disagree.  They, on the other hand, would say that being younger is better.  But, despite the want to be older or younger, we can’t change time.  We can’t turn back the clock, nor can we spin it forward faster.

As we move through life, we realize that what we wanted before was not what we thought it would be.  We didn’t understand that even though you’re older and you may not have someone taking your favorite toy away anymore, there are other, more difficult problems to deal with.  Children are born naïve to everything.   Trying to preserve their innocence, they are shown none of the struggles of an adult.  They do not know what it is like to be in debt.  They do not know what it is like to lose your job.  They do not know what it is like to have everything they know slip right through their grasp.  They see a perfect life.  Their own struggles are usually simple, but to them, it is the end of the world.  When they see people whose lives seem easier than anything they’ve ever done, they want to live like that.  Until they actually experience what life is like as an adult, they can never understand that no life is perfect, no matter what.  Every life has perfect moments, but in every life not all the moments are flawless.

Acceptance is everything.  We have to accept the person we were.  We have to accept the person we are.  We have to accept the person we will become.  Understanding that the image in our of the person we want to be might not be what is best.  No one is perfect, but everyone is unique, which makes them closer to perfect.
Life is not flawless; we have to learn to see it perfectly.  We have to learn to look past the bad and look at the good.  We have to learn to accept ourselves.  We have to learn to accept everything.  Then, and only then, will life seem perfect.  The trouble with all of this is the image in our head.   See the perfect person, and if it doesn’t match us, we consider ourselves imperfect.  Remember, there is no way to change time, we have to live with it the way it is.  Although perfection may our dream, we could be better being imperfect. We are all perfect in our own way; we just have to take the time to find the perfection.