Personal Narrative Research Paper

It was a beautiful day in early winter 2012, my Family had had a big dinner at my uncle's house, the plan was to go a Blazers game after we had all gotten done eating. I had moved to Tigard oregon with my Mom in summer of 2012 from Connecticut, about six months before all of this had happened. We had no idea where anything was, the only thing we had someone what of idea was my uncle's house and the grocery store, but beyond that we were basically lost all the time. At this time we didn't have a car yet, so relied mostly on my uncle taking us places.

“I don’t like it when George asks you to meet with him alone at dark!” cried Mary. My friend George told me there was something big that he thought I would be interested in. My wife Mary doesn’t like George that much because he always seems to get me in trouble.

that she had a male, Igor Gentsaryuk, in custody for DUI near the 3700 block of

downtown Manhattan.” (The Harvard Crimson) Liz went to high school, and blossomed. She was a “straight A” student and at the top of her class. However, things weren’t so perfect at

Last summer, I went to Chicago with all my distant family on my dads side. We stayed in a huge house by Chicago in Bloomingdale, Illinois. We stayed for a week and went shopping, played games together, swam in the pool at the house, and relaxed in the hot tub. It was super fun to be around my family all week.

“Before I end this I want to say there was one person in my life who never expected a thing from me in return for their friendship. I just can’t forget my neighbor, Sally. That girl was always there when I needed her, but never meddlesome or tried to kiss up to me in any way, although she knew about my wealth. She’ll receive two million dollars to do with as she pleases and ask her personally to assist the shelter and hospital in any way possible,” Mary said.

I ignored her again my head leanign forward and digging into my knees again. “I’ll share with you” she said nudging me, I ignored her again. I felt her head slide down the wall and lean against me. She was so innocent and I couldn’t even protect her. It rang through my mind of why I was so weka, so helpless.

We where working on a fifth grade “group” project. In a crowd of about four other peers, we worked well together, until we were almost done. I didn’t really select the group, they just chose me in theirs. One day they were in the hall to finish other school work while it was time to work on the project. I decided there wasn’t much left to be done on it. The paragraphs and pictures were neatly printed out and pasted on the poster board, the lettering was drawn on it, and all there was left to do was to color it. So I did. When they came back, they crowded around the project and yelled at me. They took the poster and tore the pictures and paragraphs off. I couldn’t do anything but watch. They were so willing to have me in there group, but not

He sat on the back porch, reminiscing, he smiled, remembering Mary Jenkins was a terrific lady even in her late nineties with snow-white hair, she dressed as if she was a model and looked innocent as an angel. She loved and cared for animals and always had a cat lying on her lap while sitting on the front porch waving to everyone who passed by her house. When Mrs. Jenkins saw him, she smiled, “nice seeing you." He thought she did it because she was old and alone. Later, he discovered another reason for her kindness.

James’s compliments did not flatter Mary this time. Mary demanded James to get out of her room immediately. Mary started weeping. She did not know what to do. She did not want to tell Jimmy because she knew that Jimmy would be distressed and grief- stricken.

At the beginning of the year I knew that we would need to create an 8th grade project. I already knew what I wanted to accomplish and thought that it was going to be super effortless. Unfortunately, it wasn’t. I realized that we must include the community with our project. Since I choose photography I couldn’t come up with one concept to create. So, I asked my Uncle if he would be my mentor because his company employs the marginalized to work and produce products for cameras. They are employed there for about a year or until they feel confident to look for other jobs they are interested in. When we first met I did not fully realize what I wanted to achieve, so he gave me some ideas on how I could go see his company. I could then see what

I turned to face the girl and got a good look at her for the first time. She was extremely pretty, probably even more than I was and I was credited for being extremely pretty. Her hair was midnight black and straight. Like the uncooked noodles in the boxes that I buy from the supermarket. Her face was smooth, there were no irregularities in it, no sign of any acne, and her eyes were bright and full of life.

Mary had begun Piano lessons in order to help her talent of singing to come out well. She had made new friends and was excited at the new possibilities that lay ahead of her. One of the people that caught her fancy was Mrs. Robinson. She was in her Eighties but had so much passion for music. She put everyone through on some of the songs that were considered Classics. Mary could not believe that a woman who was this old could have this great passion for life. This led her to draw close to Mrs. Robinson. She shared very interesting tales with Mary. Their friendship blossomed into a Mother and Daughter type of relationship.

For dinner we met up with my dad’s cousin who also lives in new york. We went to eat at this tiny greek restaurant. We got a giant plate of a bunch of different appetizers and all shared. All of it was delicious. After dinner we went to a place that sold cookies and each got a fancy cookie. After that we said goodbye and my family went back to the hotel.

sweet elderly voice, I began to calm down. You could not be angry when talking to Miss Ava; she was a woman in her late thirties with beautiful golden brown ringlets that sat on her naturally tanned shoulders, she was one of those women -who appear fifteen years younger than their natural age ...but you could see the age in her stone brown eyes that showed she’d seen more than her fair share of the world already, whether good or bad she would never let on. I respected her, even cared for her as if she was an older cousin with whom I’d lost contact with only to reunite with after years with an even stronger bond. I looked at her and felt the tears swells in my eyes...Just another person I’d have to leave behind. “Oh goodness, darling I’ve talked to the principal. Don’t worry my dear you're in no trouble at all, we both know todays much different than you're used to and we understand you may be