Personal Narrative: Growing Up In A Community
I firmly believe that the environment one grows up in and the people we surround ourselves with can shape who we will be for the rest of our lives. I grew up in a small neighborhood in the suburbs of a relatively big city. I enjoyed growing up in this setting because being near the city granted me many opportunities to do exciting activities – such as going to parks, nature trails and festivals – while living in a more small-scale neighborhood allowed me to grow up in a community with a strong sense of family. At first glance, we probably look like nothing more than a group of neighbors, but in reality we are much more than just neighbors. To me, these people that my parents, sisters, and I have befriended over the years are family. This close-knit group that I have been surrounded by since birth has shaped me in many ways as well as helped get me through difficult times.
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At the same time my mother and father were waking up my two younger sisters. My father told us not to worry, and that we needed to leave with Mr. Tom right away due to our house starting to flood. I walked out of my room to see the house in complete disarray. Our living room furniture was piled on top of the table, the baby grand piano was raised up on cinder blocks and the kitchen cabinets were emptied out onto the counters. As I was rushing out of the house, I looked out our back doors and noticed that the creek – which normally flows safely in its bank, about 50 yards away from the house – had already reached our backdoor and was starting to seep into the house. The only thing temporarily stopping the water from surging in was a towel stuffed in the crack of the
At the same time my mother and father were waking up my two younger sisters. My father told us not to worry, and that we needed to leave with Mr. Tom right away due to our house starting to flood. I walked out of my room to see the house in complete disarray. Our living room furniture was piled on top of the table, the baby grand piano was raised up on cinder blocks and the kitchen cabinets were emptied out onto the counters. As I was rushing out of the house, I looked out our back doors and noticed that the creek – which normally flows safely in its bank, about 50 yards away from the house – had already reached our backdoor and was starting to seep into the house. The only thing temporarily stopping the water from surging in was a towel stuffed in the crack of the