My Colorful Tapestry
Sophie Marine
The lacy white curtains fluttered around, allowing a warm breeze to enter the small frenzied room. “How odd,” the people in the room thought, “it’s February right? Why is it warm...” I had a simple answer for that...or I should rather say my Mother’s midwife had a simple reason for the odd temperature. “She brought the sunshine,” the midwife announced, “she brought the spring.”
My childhood was filled with playful things such as sticky fingers and scraped knees. Smiles and giggles, as well as tears and pouty lips. However, as I “grew up” my world was sculpted into other shapes, forms, and colors. I only saw shades of black and white, but when my Mother was diagnosed with a brain tumor, the shades turned gray. When my grandfather died in the dead of winter, the lines smeared and became smudged. My chest felt the hurt of a thousand heartbreaks; it splintered like a champagne glass crashing to the ground. Even though though some parts of my life were filled with sorrow, other parts were filled with joy.
One day in the winter, my Mother and I went to a magical place. A place filled with lights, laughter, and love. We were strolling down the concrete streets of New York City and everywhere I looked I saw red and gold. Twinkling lights danced about, creating shadows on our faces, the sound of bells engulfed us like a warm blanket. Like a sponge in a bucket of water, I was soaking up my surroundings as much as possible. I was able enjoy an experience I never thought I would. Being in New York allowed me to come back down to earth, being in New York finally allowed me to be happy again.
I often think to myself, ‘This shouldn’t be my life, I want something more.’ But when I think back to all the experiences I have had, I realize I was meant to have a life like this. A life that teaches you lessons, no matter how big or how small. |
