Personal Narrative: My Life At Ronald Mcdonald House

I remember counting pennies. If I wanted to buy something I would look through every draw and every coat pocket for enough spare change to buy something that I wanted. My father died from his addiction with drugs and alcohol. Not an overdose but a thrill ride that almost took someone else’s life. He lived fast and hard and died young. Me, I went home to an empty trailer in part because my mom worked and I had talked her out of going to babysitters. Looking back I think how crazy it that? In the summer I spend day and night alone unless I either spent time with my grandparents or I went to work with Mom. During the nice summer days I’d walk 2 miles by myself from my mom’s work to swim alone at the public pool. Coming from a simple background
This drives me to be the best at what I do. I am an honor student and a member and a member of Phi Theta Kappa. Our honor society which helps the community in many different ways, one example is feeding the parents at Ronald McDonald House. Ronald McDonald House is an organization that exists on donations and it’s a place where parents can be near their children in the hospital or needing care near the hospital.
I never look at my grades as competition with other students but only a personal betterment within myself. I’ve played golf a few times in life. A truth that I learned in the game, you must always play against the course and not against a fellow golfer or you might as well pack up and go home.
I’ve placed my heart into demonstrating a spirit of compassion. Compassion for people that have mental and emotional problems. I see my Dad’s face every time I meet someone suffering from addiction. This is why I want to gain higher education. I want a better way to contribute to my
I was then given the high honor of being published within this first work. I love art, poetry, and writing. My life has been filled with many challenges but I have been able to channel the otherwise negative emotions I’ve experienced into different forms of artistic expression. Instead of sinking into mire of self-pity and despair, I like to pick up pen, brush, or even computer to pour my emotion into something that is beautiful to myself. Just as my grades are important only to me, my works of art are beautiful to my soul. I don’t share my work very often but when I do it is for a very special