The Perfect Place Essay, Research Paper The Perfect Place Close your eyes and picture the most beautiful place you could imagine. To you it may be waterfalls and palm trees or mountains that stretch as far as you can see. To me it is a little, white
The Perfect Place Essay, Research Paper
The Perfect Place
Close your eyes and picture the most beautiful place you could imagine. To you it may be
waterfalls and palm trees or mountains that stretch as far as you can see. To me it is a little, white
farmhouse that sits in a small town called Nevada Mills. Just picturing it floods my mind with the most
incredible childhood memories that I could never forget. I see the old wooden diving board that is still
perched on the pier as if prideful of its duration throughout the years. The stone fireplace still stands
in the front yard stained with the smoke from countless hot dog and marshmallow roasts. The big oak
tree stands with outstretched branches ready to take us back into its limbs.
As I walk into the house and to the little bedroom, I remember the nights when I would stay over.
The sense of security rocked me to sleep every night. As I lay there in my mother’s childhood bedroom
I was at peace. I knew that when I would wake up I would wake up happy. Maybe because I knew I
was waking up to a day filled with excitement and adventure, a day filled rich in colors and endless
possibilities. Sometimes when things get rough I wish I could go back to this place and the security that
shielded me in its white walls. As I reach the den I see my grandpa sitting in his chair with the dog.
The lights of the TV reflect off of his black glasses and fill the room with a dim glow. My grandma is
in the kitchen making tea for us. Tea always means conversation and this is a good thing because conversations
with my grandparents are always enjoyable. They both know so much and the advice they give me is always
gentle and loving. Our conversations never give way to arguments or harsh words.
Nowadays in my life there are the occasional nights alone and scared, many conversations with harsh
words and mornings with false hope of a new day rich in color. So you can see why my grandparents
house is the most beautiful place in the world to me. When you grow up and leave things behind you start
to realize just how important they really are. I think this is why we start to miss our childhood, we miss the
security and the casualness of everything. Life changes so fast; one minute we are adding two plus two and the
next minute we are balancing a checkbook. Dressing down in our underwear on those hot summer days
suddenly transforms into the reality of dressing up for those job interviews.
On the days of too much homework and too much stress I want to go back to my grandparents house.
It is the perfect place to go. In my mind it is a fairytale, a true fairytale, where everything always ended happily ever after.
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