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Kaylyn Gyden

David DiSarro

Eng Comp 103

22 September 2009

More Than a Conqueror

“Let me tell you the secret that has led me to my goal: my strength lies solely in

my tenacity.”-unknown author.

It was April 21, 2003 when I lost my best friend. The walls were off white, the

carpet was gray with navy blue spots, and the room was cold. The words, “I’m sorry, but

we did everything we could,” were the words I had never wanted to hear. Not only did

my grandmother die that day, a piece of me died with her. As I laid on the marble floor, I

cried. My eyes began to burn, snot ran down my face, and I found it hard to breathe. I

felt sick to my stomach. I wanted to punch massive holes in those dingy off - white walls

that surrounded me. I was mad at the world. I hated people. I hated God. I hated myself.

Who was I to turn to? Who was there to feel my pain? How could the only person that

understood me, leave me? I had no one but myself, and I wasn’t sure if I was strong

enough to get through this by alone.

The days to follow were the roughest days of my life. Throughout the day all I

could do was cry. I cried to the point where I gave myself a headache. My eyes were

crimson red by the end of every night. I did not speak a word to anyone. I stayed silent

while my anger built up inside of me. I felt my blood boiling like overheated water. At

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that point in time, I felt the urge to hit someone. I wanted everyone to feel the pain that I

felt. “It will be alright.” everyone told me. “I know how you feel.” “God has a plan and it

was all in his will.” The truth was, no one could begin to imagine how I felt. My heart was

gone. I felt like God did not love me anymore. I thought to myself: Am I that bad of a

person that God decided I didn’t deserve to have a friend? At that point in time, I lost all

my faith in Him.

April 27, 2003 was the hardest day of my life. I was forced to sit there in my own

church and watch my best friend lie in a casket and be buried shortly afterwards. The

church seemed to have taken on a different vibe. Once before, I would get a warm and

secure feeling while I was there. However, this time I felt like I was vulnerable and in a

great amount of danger. The wooden walls, the blue, carpet, and the hanging lights all

made me want to vomit. How could a church so beautiful hold a funeral for my best

friend? The church was packed from the right side of the pew to the left side of the pew.

My grandmother was an amazing woman; therefore, I expected the church to be

packed. I stared at the white and gold coffin so long I began to go cross-eyed. I began

to sulk and a feeling of somberness came over me. I stared at her brown, smooth,

lifeless face, and then it hit me, she was gone. I was hoping she was playing a joke on

me and she would get up any minute and say April’s fool, but she never got up. The

pastor delivered the eulogy, and his message was to rejoice in the Lord for her

homecoming instead of weeping. How could a person rejoice when the only person that

kept them standing when they wanted to fall died? The closer the pastor got to the close

of his eulogy, the madder I got. By the end of the funeral, I was outraged, irritated,

depressed, lost, and lonely all at the same time. I did not understand why something like

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this would happen to me. “Ashes to ashes; dust to dust” were the words I was forced to

hear. I had to stand there and watch my grandmother be lowered six feet under the

ground. I felt my legs get weak and my head get light. My vision was blurry, and I had

no feeling in my body. I was not strong enough to walk, talk, or cry anymore. I stood

there like I was frozen. I threw one last red rose on her casket and I was escorted back

to the car by my godmother.

Six years had gone by, and I still had not gotten over the passing of my

grandmother, until I heard a word from somewhere. I was sitting on the beach on a

Sunday evening watching the sunset. The wind blew through my hair. I played with the

sand between my toes. The smell of the beach was calming and the ocean waves were

peaceful. I sat there re-evaluating my life. I seemed like there was no one on the beach

but me that day. Suddenly, I felt a cool breeze on my shoulder and I heard a deep voice

say, “Let go.” I thought I was either going crazy or I was just hearing things. At the time

I was in a state of total confusion and I had no guidance. My mother tried to help me get

through it, but I didn’t want her help, I wanted my grandmother. It was placed on my

heart to ask God for answers. Throughout these six years, I still went to church every

Sunday because I had no choice. However, there was a total disconnect between God

and myself. I would sit in church and text or read a book. I was surrounded by people

that experience the goodness of God on a daily basis rejoicing in his name, and I felt

out of place. If everyone in the church was a yellow crayon in a crayon box I would be

the black crayon. I felt like I did not belong there at all.

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That following Sunday I went to church seeking for things to be revealed to me. I

asked God why he took my grandmother who was my backbone, my supporter, my best

friend, and the only person that understood me. I had never expected to get an answer

from God that same day, but before church was over, I had all the answers to my

questions. The pastor’s sermon was entitled, “More Than a Conqueror”. In his sermon

he talked about knowing who our true backbone is and believing God could make a way

out of no way. I remember Rev. Adams, looking directly looking at me and saying, “Let

go and let God.” That is when it was revealed to me that I could not rely on mankind to

motivate me, I had to motivate myself. I could not put all my faith in one person; I had to

put my faith in God. I had to realize that I was stronger than I thought and capable of

doing anything I put my mind to. I could not be selfish and let my grandmother suffer on

earth when she deserved to rest in heaven.

From that day on, my relationship with God has grown to be better than ever. I

became a mentor for youth struggling with losses in the family. I evangelize one

Saturday out of the month with the S.W.A.T. (Soul Winning Action Team). My

grandmother’s passing has enabled me to become a strong independent woman. I have

become reliant on myself and I believe in myself. I have pushed myself to the highest

level and have succeeded in everything I have done so far. I set challenges to outdo

myself in everything that I do. My goal is to be an Obstetrician/ Gynecologist, and I

know I will make it because of who I am. Mary- Elizabeth Dawson was a strong and

fearless woman, and I have no choice but to carry out her legacy, and touch a great

number of lives just as she did. I know that I am making her proud and doing great

things in her name, and this is just the beginning.

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