Write a personal narrative. If you've ever read a poem or a short story that made you feel a strong emotion, this will be easy to write. Use the story that gave you a significant reaction. This reaction can either be a strong loathing or a strong love/liking. Describe why it gave you that reaction. Make sure to organize your ideas. You may use a personal story, a recognition of character, a connection to an event or (fill in the blank).
My
Life’s Journey of Oranges
I
remember having a very strong feeling for the poem “Oranges” by
Gary Soto. What did I feel? I felt a strong sense of importance:
oranges. It made me think of oranges with the idea that they are
experiences. When I read it, I thought it was the most amazing poem
I had ever read. It's been a habit of mine for the longest time to
write down the things I want to remember. This poem “Oranges”
will always be in my little time capsule, as I will refer to it. I
liked it so much that I took the book out to the living room with me,
and I read it to my mother. I don't really know why but I wanted her
to feel something as I read it to her. I read it with as much
emotion as I had experienced it. I asked my mother what she thought
of it, and it didn’t seem to give her the same reaction. I guess I
was hoping to share something with her that I truly enjoyed, and
hoping she’d enjoy it just as much as I did. I recall telling her
how deep I thought it was, how sweet. I thought “That’s the
innocence of a first love.” For me, oranges can represent many
different things. My life has a few oranges of its own. As I read
the poem, I was full of some deeper emotion I find difficult to
define. I can only define it by telling of some of my own
experiences.
It
reminded me of my childhood. It reminded me of the first time I was
able to finally climb a tree. I'd tried so desperately to pull
myself up into the branches day after day. Then one day I was
finally able to pull myself up. I felt a strong sense of
accomplishment. I climbed as high as I could, entirely fearless. I
remember the first feeling of looking down and realizing how high I'd
climbed. It was absolutely amazing. I'd finally done it. I'd
climbed the tree in its entirety. In this scenario, my orange is the
accomplishment of having climbed the tree for the very first time.
It
reminded me of my first boyfriend. His name was Christopher. I was
in 5th grade at the time, and he was in 4th. He had these dorky
glasses and this scraggly blond hair he was constantly fidgeting
with. The first time we held hands was completely innocent. He and
I were talking about secret areas in the game Super Mario. We held
hands as we swung on the swings next to one another. Our fingers
weren't interlocked, but our hands were clasped together. It wasn't
a tight grip, nor was it gentle. It was simply perfection. I
remember how light I felt inside, and how happiness was so easy to
come by. It was the power I had within me as a kid; happiness, so
simple to grasp, so easy to define. Happiness was my orange.
It reminded me of the first time I heard a metal song. It was Powerman 5000. I felt scared. In my childhood metal music was always seen as evil, satanic. I was scared because I knew it was something I shouldn't be doing. That scariness made me enjoy it because I rarely deviated from the guidelines of my family. It made me feel like I was doing something dangerous. I felt like I was being bad intentionally for the first time. Danger made me feel strong. It made me feel fearless. When I was listening to Powerman 5000 my brother told my mom I was becoming a Satanist. I don't know if that's what he truly believed or if he had some other hidden agenda. He’d convinced her it was Satan’s music. I was banned from listening to them, even though it’s not satanic music at all. I felt another strong emotion then, the emotion of frustration at my brother's lies. He didn't want me to have the experience. Perhaps he was more afraid than I was. Fear became strength, and that strength was my orange.
It reminded me of the first time I enjoyed reading. I use to absolutely hate reading. Reading was difficult for me as a child. I didn’t like any of the stories they were having us read. I thought all reading was boring and couldn’t be more than that. The only books I’d enjoyed before had pictures in them, books like “Where the Wild Things Are” and “Baby Beluga.”
I
was in the library at my elementary school, Frank Zeek. I was
looking desperately for something interesting to read. I don’t
know why I’d gotten the idea that reading could be fun, maybe I was
simply curious. There on a cart full of books waiting to be returned
to their shelves was a book with a dragon on the cover. The cover
read “Dealing with Dragons.” I know you’re not supposed to
judge books by their covers, but the cover intrigued me enough to
pick it up and read the back. As I read the back of it I found
myself captured by the story. I decided to check it out.
Eventually I read the rest of the series. I was so into the story
that I couldn’t put the books down. I remember a warm feeling
inside of my stomach like I’d finally found a place I belonged to,
a place within the world of books. It was one of the greatest
feelings I’d ever felt.
I
rekindled the feeling a few months ago when I started reading again.
It made me wonder why I’d even stopped reading at all. I suddenly
got this strong urge to pick up a book and read. The stories are so
captivating. This is why I was so easily captured in my youth by the
Enchanted
Forest Chronicles
by Patricia C. Wrede. I prefer those with fiction tales, mostly with
adventure, because I feel my own adventures aren't always exciting
enough to share. Reading is still something I can now enjoy through
that simple experience. Reading is now one of my permanent
oranges.
One poem can bring up so many memories for me. Oranges are strong feelings contained deep within those memories. They are accomplishments, happiness, strength, and a place to call home, but they are not limited to those alone. Oranges are everything worth experiencing. They are every tangy little drop of life's magic. I could think of more emotions tied to tales of my life. If I weren't limited to examples of only a short few, I'd probably continue to write for hours. I could probably share endless amounts of oranges. Oranges are everything and anything to me. If life allows me, I hope to experience more oranges that can never fade away, for they are worth savoring every juicy detail.
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Authors Notes:
This is an essay written for my English 201 class for May 16th 2012. The stories mentioned are true stories as I remember them. What are YOUR oranges?
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