My William and Mary Essay

Does this sound okay? Question: choose an extracurricular activity from those you have listed that has been the most meaningful to you and explain why.

The extracurriclur activity from the above list that has most impacted my life would be my participation in the Step Program through my high school.

The purpose of the program is to introduce students to the experience of working in a classroom, designed to help students decide if teaching is the right proffession for them.

We have a family friend who works at Cherry Hills Christian Schools, a nearby private school. Most participants in the Step Program go to their elementary school and work with an old favorite teacher as an assistant in a class. Since I had moved to Colorado in 8th grade, we went to this family friend, and she set me up with a third grade class at her school.

I met with the asst. principle my first day, and she informed me that I would not be working as a Teacher's Aide. Every teacher at Cherry Hills has an aide, and as such they did not need me in that role. Instead, I was going to work with on e individual student who needed personal attention to catch up with her classmates.

Hiba Ibrahim was ten, a year ahead of her friends, but from her tinay frame, no one would ever have known. She and her family had escaped Sudan just the year before. I learned a lot from Hiba.

She wouldn't talk about Sudan, it was obvious that her time there had been painful. Sometimes, though, she still wrote her name in Arabic. Despite the trauma she had faced in Sudan, and from what I have heard from teachers and others at the school, there was plenty of traumatic experiences for her and her family, Hiba still smiled and laughed. Her eyes were bright with hope, joy, excitement. She still squirmed in her seat, and sometimes cried in her frustration of being so behind, but she kept trying.

I learned last year, that I am selfish. Very selfish. I am materialistic, despite my efforts not to be. I am self centered, despite concern for others. I am lazy, though I may take difficult courses in school. I am spoiled, and there I have no excuse.

Most of all, I learned that I am priviledged. I live in a very rich area of the United States-a very rich country in itself. My life is comfortable. I rarely have to work for anything. Everything is handed to me. The only thing I can ever complain about is having to pay car insurance on my parent's cars-even that is nothing.

I learned from Hiba that there are other countries out there. I knew that of course, but I learned that people undergo hard times. I knew that too, but things like Sudan can seem so distant. When I got to know Hiba, and I heard her story, it became real, and personal to me.

Yet, more importantly than just learning that the world does not revolve around me and my desires, I learned that in the midst of strife people can do amazing things. Hiba walked from Sudan to Cairo with her mother and three sisters. Four, actually, if you include the baby that her mother carried. I don't even walk to school. The few times I have walked home this year, I am hot and tired, and irritated when I reach the house. Hiba, when I asked her about walking across the desert, she smiled and shrugged, said something like "I had my sisters and mom, and we were going to find daddy."

People can do amazing things, despite their background, their so called opportunities. If I hadn't met Hiba, my eyes would never have been opened to this whole world out there that needs our help. I don't think I would ever have felt so called to reach out to the world. I want to go to North Africa now, and Chechnya in Russia where there is revolution. I want to go and help people. I don't know what I will do there, but I know, that thanks to a ten year old girl, I am going.

GUESS WHAT?

BAH! LIFE IS SO AMAZING! (and surprising)

I GOT INTO CONTINENTAL LEAGUE!!!

I am one of FOUR altos who made it in! AHHH!

thank you, thank you.


You can come to the concert, it is Jan. 30, it is in the city somewhere. It would mean a lot.

LOVE YOU ALL!
sara


ps, you can also come to my choir concert next Thursday, we are doing some cool stuff (besides just singing and sound amazing) it will be really cool. If you do come, it is free, in the theatre at 7:00. I would get there around 6:40 and sit down in the front on the right side if you can, about five or six rows from the front. Trust me. It would be SO COOL if you came, because no one ever comes to my stuff. Not a complaint, just a fact. Anyway.

Thanksgiving

I jumped from bed this morning. Laughter and Josh's voice above Amanda's woke me. Mom is in the kitchen already. Kneading dough, her knuckles covered in flour. She looks up with a smile as I stand in the door. Dad is reading out on the back patio. Yesterday he stood and watched every time a plane flew overhead, ducking and diving through the clouds. Today there are no planes, so he sits and reads his Bible. THe flag out front is blowing in the wind, dancing leaves have crowned the brown grass.

There is something today, is it in the air? Or the scones already rising in the oven? Is it that I can still smell the remnants of candy we made last night, or the pie that has been cooling for hours on the counter by the mixer? Is it that Josh is home today, and laughing? There is something, though I can say say for sure what it is.

I think it is simply the day. Thanksgiving, I whisper it as I fold the sheets down and pull the comforter up on the bed. Mm. It tastes good in my mouth, rolling on my tongue, sliding over my lips as it escapes and permeates the room. Thanksgiving.

Amanda makes a face as she pulls the gibblet from the turkey and hurls it into a nearby trash can. We laugh as she frantically washes her hands. My hair actually looks nice today, now there is something to be thankful for. Mom chuckles and rubs my back. Your hair always looks nice, she says, without opening her mouth. Josh is playing football on the playstation 2. Dad complains, he wanted to see a certain team, and they are playing right now. But Josh is wearing the Burger King crown we brought as a joke; and according to the rules written on the inside, his reign extends ten feet in all directions, that includes the tv. Dad shakes his head, laughs, and walks down the hall.

Will and Katie are here from next door. She and Amanda leave moments later with the sweet potato suffle, Amanda needs their oven. Will and Dad are laughing. Josh is changing the tv back to the football game. Mom is smelling the air. She closes her eyes, smiles contently and settles down on the couch with a book she has been reading for months.

The sun is setting outside as the turkey is hoisted from the oven, and the sweet potatoes rushed back home. We are sitting at the table. White linen cloth, creamy placemats, beautiful place settings, words can not describe the joy we all have. Friends and family gather round the table. Someone grabs my hand, I take the one next to me. Who it is, I don't recall, but it does not matter as we bow our heads. This is one of the few times I do not feel awkward praying. Josh, from the head of the table, in his new home, says a few words, then Amen and our eyes dart back to the food.

Laughter as plates are passed. Josh is leaning over, trying to understand how to carve a turkey. The marshmellows are melted on the sweet potatoes. Only a spoonful makes it to my plate. Until a moment later when I taste them. And this year I like them, I fumble for more before they are passed on. A slice of turkey slips onto my plate, gravy splashes down, making rivers through all of the plate. Cranberry sauce barely escapes the brownish liquid. A fork is picked up, I can hear a knife as it slices the meat, scraping against the ceramic plate beneath.

Amanda asks for everyone to wait before eating. The last of the dishes goes round. We sit back, waiting. What can she want? To explain that feeling I have of today? What is it? The air? THe smells? Whatever it may be I am enjoying the day.

She smiles sweetly, just as she always does. Then asks for everyone to say something for which they are thankful. She says she will start. With a loving smile, she looks at Josh and says she is thankful for him, and his family, and great friends. We all laugh, because there could be nothing more obvious. Mom is next, she thinks a moment, her eyes concentrating behind the bifocal eye glasses. Then, for having such an amazing daughter in law, who, though she is not the one we expected, is better than anything we could have dreamed for. Dad laughs, he does not want to follow one so nicely done. I guess, just that we had the chance to come down and see you all. And that for once, I get to stay at home, while Josh goes to work. There is a hearty laugh that follows him. Josh volunteers to go next, with a great smile he says he can think of one thing in particular, Amanda, but he should also add on family and friends, and being able to accomplish dreams. Katie and Will both do the same, each other, and friends. And then there is me.

The lights are dim, Amanda lit candles on the table. They flicker and shine brightly. The turkey is steaming, beautiful, the sweet potatoes are wafting up to me. Mom's bifocals are reflecting the candles. I can see that Josh and Amanda are holding hands beneath the table. Will and Katie are smiling politely. Dad coughs, and then sniffs, as he always does in a long silence.

They are waiting. For me. What am I thanful for?

I am thankful for being here. I am thankful that I have friends back home. I am glad to have a driver's license, a job. I am thankful to have a home when others don't. Good health, clothes, family, a nice school, and the opportunity for higher education. I am thankful for my voice, for concert choir, for music, for something to sing about. I am thankful to God, and for Jesus. Spring, and rain, winter, and snow. Christmas and carols. Happiness, sweet love. I am thankful for so very much, and they want only one sentence. I could go on for hours, become a great orator, listing only the things I hold most dear. There is not one thing that tops my list. I have no idea what to say. But they are waiting, and I must say something before the sweet potatoes are cold and gross to eat.

Most of all? What is it most of all?

My mouth opens, a different voice speaks. I am thankful for all of you, I'm so glad Josh found Amanda and that she isn't Emily. I'm so glad to have you for parents, mom because you are so perfect, and dad, because, well, just because. And I'm glad to have met Will and Katie, and I'm glad Josh and Amanda have friends like you.

But most of all, I am thankful, right now, for food. Please, can we eat? Amanda laughs and says yes. Yes, we may.

The night goes on, monte carlo and hearts. Rummicube and fooseball, a movie and knitting. Gosh, I am so old fashioned. But no one minds, Amanda reassures me, and Josh nods, your husband will appreciate it. My husband. That, I suppose is one other person I am thankful for. Though, not currently known to me. I pray for him, ask God to protect him. I am excited to meet him, and hope I won't hate him at first, as Megan did Jon. I love him already, is that strange to say? I write him letters sometimes, on Valentine's Day. I know that we will one day meet and enjoy each other. I am excited for that. I will one day not feel that I am alone, that I am running the race by myself. I will have a partner with me, someone encouraging me, and I him, as we fight down this road toward the golden city.

This Thanksgiving, I am thankful, for you. Not quite most of all, because I do not know you, nor fully appreciate you as of yet, but I will. I promise, I will.

The pie is served, pumpkin and pecan. A dollop of whipped cream, real whipped cream, sits astride my orange brown pumpkin pie slice. I taste it and sigh. Sweet contentness. People are lauhging again. I smile and take another bite. People are smiling, happy today, away from the stress of yesterday, and the decay of tomorrow.

And the pie is delicious.

The bed is white

The bed is resting under the fluff of a down comforter. Embroidered with a wispy border, interrupted by the occasional flower. The headboard is deep mahogany the foot board curls into a lip on its end, almost like the sleigh bed in the other room. The pillows are trimmed in tiny lace, with small eyelets around the flowers in the center. It sits peacefully beside a light pine desk, below the long skinny window facing the tree outside. The tree. It soars upwards, ivy crawls slowly up its thick rough trunk. Reaching, stretching for the branches, for the sky. The grass is brown, it flows unbroken into the next lawn, jumps over the driveway and into the next yard. Dead, waiting for winter's rain. Waiting for spring again. All the lawns are the same. Row on row of one floor three bedroom homes. Streets of them, curving round and round, all lead back to the bridge,the entrance, the exit.

The bed sits against the wall, faces the closet. The door hangs ajar. Inside sits a bookshelf, but there are no books. On top sits an arrangement, a myriad. Strange coins that can buy nothing, or are they medals? Five in all, in front of several long, smooth shells. They stand on end, proudly in their greenish brown skin of metal. Where are they from? Why were they kept? There is a box, wooden, carved. Words, initials. What do they mean? A mug as well, a patch in a frame, they bear the same emblem, the same words. A set of guns, rifles, two columns on either side. A round blue box sits on the floor at the side of the bookshelf. The rest is vacant. Simple, empty.

There is a chair beside the pine wood desk. It lies under olive green fabric, cinched around the edges, tucked beneath the cushion. A burgundy blanket, thick and fleecy is thrown over the back of the chair. Someone knudges it with their foot, barely tapping the base as they sit at the tall pine desk. It rocks, slowly. Back and forth, back and forth.

Behind the chair sits a diagram, a large colour poster. Leaning up against the cream coloured wall. A corner dips down, bent over, no support. It is untouched by the rocking of the chair. There are dials, numbers, a handle, switches, all in great detail. Everything sits on a gray piece of metal, curved round back in white where there must be space in real life. Words at the top. U.S. Air Force Cockpit Configuration Trainer. It is a copy of something real. Something dangerous.

The light on the pine desk is clicked on. It is simple, like the rest of the room, the house. It is a cream light shade, a ceramic base. Warm light glows and reaches the corners of the room. Cascading over white bedspread with sweet eyelets, down the footboard, creeps over the carpet and up into the closet. Spilling over the wide pine desk full of papers, landing on the chair and dipping down behind it, glossing over the drawn dials and switches of the poster.

The door is swung shut with a quiet click, breathing over the carpet to where the grayness meets the wooden floor of the hall. The blinds on the long thin window are drawn, no more peering eyes, looking into the house that is the same as all the rest. The computer screen flickers to life, the quiet sound of keys forming words begins. A word, then a comma, a few more letters and then a sentence is made.

A lull in the clicking of keys, music slips from a black speaker, over the desk and fills the room. It is warm, though rain can be heard as it patters on the roof and drips from the gutters. Stars shine outside, hidden by the dark clouds, bringing much needed relief to the brown grass that jumps from home to home. No more sound of planes overhead.

A bell rings in the kitchen. A voice calls softly, sweetly. Warm soup smells drift from the front of house, sneaking in under the closed door. Tempting, convincing. The computer is left to the wills of a screensaver, though the music still hovers in the room.

The light is on, forgotten, casting a warm hue all about the room. The chair has ceased to rock, the poster is dipping closer and closer to the floor. The desk cools where arms once leaned against it. The book case in the closet waits for an admirer. Someone who will understand the words, the shells, the medals. Everything is peaceful, waiting for its need. The pillows are soft and smooth. The bed is white.

Sigh... long post

I am in Mississippi. Columbus AFB to be exact. It is okay. Josh and Amanda have a duplex, it is pretty nice. Three bedrooms, 1 and 1/2 bath, a kitchen, laundry room, family room and dinning room (it is really a great room, but they have it set up pretty separate).

Anyway, it is exciting to be here I guess. There isn't much to do, but I am still just totally content with seeing them. Josh is out polishing his boots. He has late week, so he will spend the mornings with us. It will be nice I think. Amanda and I will probably drive into Columbus sometime and see Pride and Prejudice. That will be our big event for the week I think. Which isn't to say we aren't doing other stuff. Today we went to the commissary, woo. We needed chips, and I got a notebook from the other store right next to the commissary. And then we went over to the gas station thing right there, and bout Guinness in the store. Amanda actually had to buy my notebook for me because they won't let you buy anything unless you have military id.


Gas is more expensive here. About ten cents more. When we were driving we found some majorly low prices. One, in Mousiri (I have no idea how to spell that) was at $1.99, yeah, I took a picture on my dad's new camera phone. so there, I have proof. The lowest we say was $1.93, it was pretty insane.

The background on my bro's computer is a picture of me and him last Thanksgiving. We stayed at a friend's house up in Frasier, or thereabouts. They were visiting fam, and left the house to us. It's a picture of us after we got back from snowshoeing. Josh is all bundled up in a mask and everything. I have a beanie, scarf and the old rugby sweatshirt. Yeah, it was a little chilly at first, but let me tell ya, snowshoeing is hard work. I was sweating by the end of that trek.

Amanda is knitting a sweater. It's very pretty. I think I will learn how to knit. You can't make useful things like sweaters when you crochet. I mean, you can, but they ar emore big bulky cardigan kind of things, all in loose seams. Not very practical. She is going to enroll at the Mississipi University for Women next semeseter. They tell me I should go to school there, and I could commute with her. It would be fun. But they are only stationed here until Josh is done with flight school, next October. The campus is pretty and oldish looking, but I couldn't come here if they weren't going to be stationed here. Depending on what plane Josh ends up flying, they may get stationed in Washington. That would be cool, because SPU is one of my top choices. It's one of two colleges I applied to.

I may be starting a new story. It's a vey different style, I have a lot of things planned out from when we were driving. The drive... yeah, that was a long 20 hours. But it wasn't bad. I got all my homework done except for reading some of Richard III, and Killer Angels (Shakespeare and History).

Josh flew the other day. I got to hear about it twice, first last night when he told my dad, and then today when he told mom at lunch at Proffit's Porch. It was suppposed to be pretty basic stuff I guess, but Josh I think knows his IP pretty well. I mean, he must since the guy goes to church with him, and they actually knew him and his family from there before they (Josh and Amanda) found out he was going to be Josh's IP. The guy, Brad is his name, wanted to be the first to take Josh up. So he took him up a few days before Josh was originally supposed to, or I think that's how it went. Anyway, they weren't supposed to do any of what my mom calls 'twirly things' I don't know the real word. You know, where he goes straight up and turns over backwards and then flips back up. Yeah, so he wasn't supposed to do those, but Brad was just all "we'll just say we're doing clearance practice, and make sure no one's around." so Josh had a lot of fun doing twirly things.

That's about it. Oh, today at church we saw this cute little girl who looked just like Becky Clarkson. I'dve taken a picture, but no one had their camera phone on them. How sad. Oh well.

Hope all is well in Colorado. I'm sure I've missed so much in two days.

talk to y'all later.
sara

Part of My Shakespeare Newsletter, which I felt was important to share with you

The Back Page:
Randomness from the Outside World


Pride and Prejudice

We’ve all read it. Or, if you haven’t, it is a definite must read this Thanksgiving Break. And really, that’s all the longer it should take, because once you get into reading Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen, you simply can’t stop.
The BBC did a six hour miniseries a few years back, starring Colin Firth as the sarcastic and awkward Mr. Darcy. It was really, the best thing that could have happened. Six hours of delightful Mr. Darcy and schoolboy Mr. Bingley.
This fall, Focus Features presents a new version of the acclaimed Pride and Prejudice, this time starring Keira Knightley and Matthew McFayden as Elizabeth Bennett and Mr. Darcy respectively.
The film is already showing at the Esquire theatre downtown and is to hit mainstream theatres later this week. It is superbly done. It leaves out none of the great details, and though it is only 2 hours and 7 minutes, it covers everything that Jane Austen herself would deem important. If you see only one movie this fall, it must be Pride and Prejudice
Tšau,
Sara

People officially have too much time on their hands.... Officially

This is mainly for Connor and Nathan who apparently check my blog daily for updates... yeah, I don't understand that either. If you are like them and are reading this: MOVE ON.

Connor: You can't stay away from blogging forever
Nathan: seriously
Me: you really check it every day?
Nathan: Yes
Connor: You'll come back eventually... or, you have a new blog and you just aren't telling us about it yet.
Me: Yes, COnnor, I do, and I daily trash you on it... You two are weird.

Mike: Why would you want to go on a cruise on the East coast of Africa?
Cornish: Well, you know, the west coast of Africa isn't so nice this time of year.

Chris: The government's giving me a job and a license to kill people
Ferrill: So, you've joined the military...

Me: Get over him! You're obsessed! Find someone to like that actually knows you exist!
Becca: Oh, yeah, like your guy knows you exist
Me: Hey, at least I talk to mine
Becca: I've talked to John! I said, "hello," and he said, "hey"

Kid in PE: so, do you like hairy legs, or not hairy legs?
Me: Um, what?
2nd Kid: This is a serious question
Me:Okay, well not grossly hairy, but um, not shaved
1st Kid: So, whose are better, mine? Or his?

One day when Fisher was visiting class:
Brent: Parm, can Fisher come sing with us?
Jeff: NO! We don't depend on Fisher anymore!

Steph: Sara, you aren't a Mormon, are you?

just a few quotes... don't be expecting anything else.

Tlaa,
sara