New Beginning

I've always been curious of what kind of religious person I was. I always followed my mother's religion Seventh Day Adventist, but I never really understood our ideals or why we should follow them. But today, before my organic chemistry exam, my friend was praying while sitting against the wall in front of the doors of our examination room. I quickly noticed that she was praying and I also knew she is catholic, but I asked her right away if I could pray with her although I am not as religious as she was. Although I am just a regular person, as long as I have faith I can always have the power to be confident in what I believe. When I held her hands and applied pressure while she recited her prayer, I closed my eyes and I felt at ease. No one can see me, no one can judge me, and no one can make me feel pain. I truly believe my friend is pure and the most precious friend in my world. I'm grateful I have a friend like her because she is the epitome of all good things. I hope everything goes well for her. Her prayer opened my heart to another dimension of new hope and forgiveness. Don't forget "Dios es Grande."

My eyes of Mrs. Joans

Hello Everyone! I don't mean to be a dramatic person, but my feelings are eating me up. I can't be me with these images going on in my head. I need to tell a story that would break anyone's heart or at least some sorrowful thought. If you don't want to read you don't have to.

As a child, I grew up pretty much on my own. Took care of my little brothers while my parents were at work or was babysat very poorly by relatives or friends of my parents. Which could go to another story but I don't really want to go into that. I never actually met someone who could give me a perspective of what American life really is although I lived here all my life. It's so bad that I don't know who Bob Dylan is, or politics. My parents are real amateurs at this American life as well. So it's as if I lived in a box my whole childhood with a couple of barbie dolls and coloring books. It wasn't until sixth grade, that I met my brother's tutor, Joan McLean also known as Mrs. Joan. I always gone to her tiny apartment behind the house with a beautiful small patio with the wind and trees swaying in the spring time. I'm not kidding, it was as if I stepped into the most angelic and pure place in my life. It was always a pleasure to come to her place. What a place to be! Her couches, her furniture, her pictures, her table, and her politeness, her purity, her kindness, and her thoughtfulness. What made her shine was her personality. She was the happiest human being you could have ever met. She would never judge you, or never mislead you. Honest, caring Mrs. Joan. Telling you what is going on in the world, what we are missing, what we must pay attention to, for our sake and future. She had the best morals than anyone in the world. "Why is there war? Why not flip a coin or something?" She was incredible, funny, and loving. There was always love. I cannot imagine a summer day without her. Who is going to do her bills? Her laundry? Her groceries? There is no such person anymore. Taken away from kidney damage. Tired of human life, and punishment. No children, no husband, no mother. How can such a human being be so good? Her life was always dedicated to the people. Helping others with their disabilities and helping others with the english language. I only wish I met her sooner. So much I wish, but can't do now. My spring walks to her apartment was a delight, while playing sweet music and watching the green grass waving at me as I pass by and the trees hiding me from the sun's light. Opening her door into her tiny liveing room. Knock knock, Mrs. Joans I'm here! Dorothy? No it's Susan. Susan! And my day would be another lovely afternoon with Mrs. Joans.