Remember Me Essay, Research Paper Throughout life you will meet many different people. Some of them you will forget in a matter of minutes. Others you might think about every now and then, wondering how life is treating them. Then there are the people that touch you in some way. Maybe just because they smile at you everyday, maybe they are there for you at times when no one else is, or maybe they did something special for you that was greatly appreciated.
Remember Me Essay, Research Paper
Throughout life you will meet many different people. Some of them you will forget in a matter of minutes. Others you might think about every now and then, wondering how life is treating them. Then there are the people that touch you in some way. Maybe just because they smile at you everyday, maybe they are there for you at times when no one else is, or maybe they did something special for you that was greatly appreciated. Whatever the reason, there are always people out there that you will remember.
I am an ordinary seventeen year old girl. I have posters of cute guys hanging on my bedroom walls and my favorite stuffed animals rest on my bed. My closet is full of clothes, half of which I don’t wear, but it’s full just the same. I have a house, a car, more friends than I ever asked for, and a good life. However, all of these things do not make me. I am a thoughtful teenager, striving so hard to grow up and yet, still so full of dreams.
My biggest dream of all is to be remembered. I want to touch people in such a way that they will never forget who I am. I want them to tell their grandchildren stories about me and for them to tell their grandchildren and so on. That way, I’ll still be alive years after I actually die. However, this will be very difficult.
I don’t know where to start in my quest for being remembered. Everyday I wake up, take a shower, get dressed, brush my teeth, and do whatever I have planned for the day. That’s certainly nothing to be remembered for, but it is only how I begin my day.
If I go to school, I get in my little black Tracker and drive up 741 to the parking lot. I pull into spot 41, get out, throw my bag over my shoulder, and go into the building. It’s a rare occasion that there isn’t a smile on my face throughout the day. I go to my friends and ask them how they’re doing. I know they can count on me to sincerely listen. I’ve worked hard for many years to become a good listener.
If I go to work, I maintain a smile as well. Yes, it gets stressful at work. Customers and coworkers can be really crabby to the point where I want to scream, but the smile stays put. I heard somewhere that it takes fewer muscles to smile than it does to frown. So, I may not have a very muscular face, but I do have a happy atmosphere about me.
At home life is different. My mother supports us by herself because my father lives in California. Mom smiles all the time outside of home too. Everyone loves my mother. She will be remembered, but nobody knows her. Nobody sees the pain behind the happy mask she wears. I see it all. When Mom needs a shoulder to cry on, I’m there. If Mom needs someone she can release her anger on, it’s me. I am her throw-pillow. I am everyone’s throw-pillow. My friends use me for this too. Yet, I stay strong and keep that smile upon my face.
No one knows me. I am a complex being composed of atoms and molecules and many emotions and thoughts. I smile even when my world is shattering because I feel like smiling is a gift. When you give one you tend to receive one in return, and maybe, just maybe, you touch the person you give it to. Which brings me back to my point of wanting to be remembered.
I am here before you now, pouring my heart onto paper, not as the girl with the smile on her face, but as myself. Maybe you’ve seen me around, or maybe you think you know me. Yet, I ask you…have you ever read my poetry? Do you know who I am inside? Do you feel touched when I smile at you? If you can answer even one of these questions with yes, then I have to ask you to do one more thing for me. Please remember me.
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