This was an essay I had written in the 9Th standard for my half yearly exams. Of all the essays I have written till date this is 1 essay, which changed my life completely. Actually changed my dad's life more than mine, shall explain why at the end of this post. Here it goes
We all want something or the other at some point of time or the other in life. As a kid all we want is a chocolate or a small toy and as we grow older out demands keep changing. As they say desires are endless don't they? Well I don't know about you but here's what I would wish for.
My first wish would be to ask god to grant me opportunities. To be successful in life I think the first thing a person needs is opportunities. There are many people in this world who aren't as fortunate as I am, to be studying in a good school and having good clothes to wear. There people who are handicapped or disabled. So the first thing I would want to ask god to grant me is opportunities.
My second wish would be to ask god to grant me the strength to over come obstacles in life. If god grants me opportunities there would definitely be obstacles I would face in achieving whatever I want. Not just this but when ever someone close to me would pass away I wouldnât want to sit and cry but look at all the people who would
need me at that time.
My third wish would be to ask god to grant the ability to spread happiness and share my sorrows with ever people around me. As they say happiness is doubled when it is spread and sorrows are halved when spread with people. I would definitely be happy when I achieve whatever i've wanted to and sad when i am unable to achieve it, what ever it may I would like to share it with the people who are close to me.
So here are the three whishes I would like to ask god as I feel these three wishes are what I need to be successful in life. First ill need opportunities in life then the strength to overcome the hurdles that I would face and finally I would like to spread the happiness I get after achieving what I have wanted to.
for Anne Dellenbaugh, wilderness guide
If I were God, I would make a world exactly like this one. I love its inconsistencies, its contradictions. I love it that this river flows around stones and finds its own way. I love it that people are free, even to be selfish and to think they own beaches and mountaintops and have the right to keep the poor off them. I love it that things change, that the boundaries of nations and the fences of the rich get torn down sometimes. I love it that some people think we have many lifetimes while others think we have only this one. I especially love it that no one knows for certain, even if they think they do.
I love it that there are little clovers here in the grass beside me as I write, the same kind I have known all my life, and that this morning there was a bewildered-looking moose that I have not known at all standing in the mist at the edge of this river.
I love it that I am sixty years old and my hair is gray and my hand against this white paper is showing age spots and I am sitting on a wedge of land between a river and a stream on a Monday afternoon in July. I love it that I don’t know exactly where I am, because it helps me to remember that I don’t know exactly where Earth is in this galaxy, or where this galaxy is in this universe, or whether I have only this lifetime or many lifetimes. I love supposing this one is the only one, because it keeps me mindful of how precious everything is.
There is sweet dock mixed in with the clover at my feet. My mother told me that sweet dock makes good greens. My family knew things that poor people had to know, like what wild greens you can eat. Right now I am learning things only rich people get to know, like how it is to take a canoe trip led by a brilliant wilderness guide. Enid and I have left behind all the students in the writing workshops we lead for low-income women: Corinna and Diane and Maryann and Evelyn and Robin and Teresa and Lynn and a dozen more who can’t be here because they are poor in money. Kate has money, but she can’t be here because she is poor in health. And yet, if I were God, I would make a world just like this one, where everyone comes raw and naked and dependent into it; where everyone enters bloody between the legs or through the cut belly of a woman; where nothing is for certain and there is so much to learn. I would make the world unfair as this world is unfair, because only in a world like this one is it possible that maybe the rich will take down their fences; maybe the poor will get together and break the fences down; maybe those who know how to read will teach those who don’t. Maybe the fed will feed the hungry. Maybe the lion will lie down by the lamb.
Maybe none of this will happen, but if I were making a world I’d want it to be complicated and unfair, a place where everything needs everything else, where if someone kills off all the wolves then the moose will get sick and die slow deaths because nothing eats them anymore. I don’t understand it, but I want to be here on this wedge of land, on this canoe trip, trusting myself to a woman who knows what I don’t about rivers and weather and human bodies. I love how she told me last year that she can read the river. She knows by the ripples on its surface what lies beneath and where to take her canoe. I love it that this year she is teaching me where to take a canoe, and how. I love it that she is teaching me to brush mosquitoes away gently, instead of sending them to the next life — which I’m not at all sure they will have. I love being in this body, in this world, in this time and place. It took me sixty years to get here, sixty years to like my body well enough to walk bare into a river in full sight of other women without shame, sixty years to trust my body enough to believe I can paddle for six hours and still lead a writing workshop when I get home.
I want to be fully here. Tonight I will sleep between two streams of water, under stars that move from I don’t know where to I don’t know where. Right now, two dragonflies on my thigh are giving me a demonstration of the proper mating technique when you are shaped like a small stick with wings.
Thank you for sharing The Sun.
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Pat Schneider is founder and director of Amherst Writers and Artists, and the author of five books, including Wake Up Laughing: A Spiritual Autobiography (Negative Capability Press). She lives in Amherst, Massachusetts.More From This Contributor ▸