Personal Narrative: My Mother's Roller Coaster Ride

“Hmm... I wonder what I should get Buttercup!”, Westley thought to himself. He had many wonderful ideas, but none seemed good enough for his love. Jewelry? No. Buttercup never wears Jewelry.

All the colors that surrounded were Dull, Plain, and Neutral. It was pastel pink, the frills that covered The chest and created the three-fourths sleeve. The dress made me realize how skillful the seamstress was.

The character I chose to do it on was Maya's mother. I chose maya’s mother because she seems nice and stuff. Maya was talking about how her lipstick looked on her.

For Kash Wayne's session, I used a gray hat from Riley's Mom Makes Hats. They are one of my favorite hat vendors. Even though I hated to cover his hair, it was adorable on him and one of my favorite shots of the day.

I sighed with relief, but when I saw we were flopped upside-down with no seat belts, I screamed like there was no tomorrow. Hanging on to the safety bars, all of the men and women cried for help as their hands were slipping off of the metal bars, my little brother, Robby, was going to fall, my mom was holding onto him very tight, but, unfortunately, not tight enough.

As usual the hallway of Stafford Middle resembled an obstacle course. Hundreds of kids filled the highway, bookbags and other personal items were placed at the random and open lockers spewed their contents onto the floor. Evin quickly slipped through the gaps and open spaces. A normal kid may not have been able to fit through, but as Evin was tall and lean she easily fit through.

and the words ‘Scissor Sisters” printed across the top. She popped it in and an annoyingly jolly

On my way out the door, my mother took a couple of silly pictures and made sure that I didn 't forget my bag which had Paige’s gift inside, it was a beautiful white and purple pointed crystal that was made into a necklace.

After my mother and I have an argument she usually smiles at me and says, it’s because we’re so much alike that we argue. She reminds me that our lack of communicating often stirs more trouble than why we were arguing. I used to get upset that my mom didn’t set time aside for our family to spend time together or make us eat together at the dinner table. I was upset because I was comparing our family to my friends’ families. I valued those things and assumed my mom didn’t, but I was wrong. My mom had so much on her mind everyday it was breaking her on the inside. Not only had I wanted my mom to be like my friend’s moms, now I had wanted my mom to be different because she was depressed. Bonhoeffer mentions that we desire images of others that we want, but aren’t the true image they bear as Christ’s (pg37-38). At first I was puzzled. How is a good image of mine, not Christ’s image for her? I learned that His image is neither right nor wrong, but simply uniquely divine. My mom could have done those things, but her whole life would have had to be different, and I would never want to change who my mom is.

The amazing stylists here at Eve by Eve’s are here to help you to stand out for this festive season. Our featured look for this week is perfect for the fashion conscience lady who desires to add a rich and vibrant color scheme along with the softness of some of our paler colored items perfect to set off her holiday cheer.

My character is female (because I am female, just to clarify), I gave it a face like mine and Long, dark hair with a blue streak. I also gave myself a black short sleeved jacket, tall blue fingerless gloves, yellow bracelets on the upper arm, blue pants (the same shade of blue as the gloves), tall gold shoes with a dark blue trim(same color as the streak in my hair), a blue tie, white tank top under the jacket and a gold key ring (every character in KeyTTF is required to have a key ring).

The dress was a long silver with a spilled on the side and shiny pearls around the neck of the dress. I walked out the store with the biggest smile on my face after I got the dress. I thought nothing bad would happen, but I was

“Oh honey,” she crooned, “It’s okay, it’s alright. Look at what I got you!” She pulled out a little red booklet entitled The Moving Book: A Kid’s Survival Guide. I gave her a look and hurled the book at the wall to demonstrate my

“That’s a great song,” my mom whispered, grabbing Grandma’s hand. She gave me a tight smile. It wasn’t a comforting smile. It was the kind of worried smile that parents give to their children to try to signal that everything is okay; my stomach tied in knots.

"Nothing, I want to go out tonight I 'll see you at eleven thirty," my daughter said.