Essay 2
Essay 2
Essay 2
Lessons from My Childhood Nithya Mohan College of DuPage English 1101 Elizabeth Anderson 09-30-2012
I am writing this letter for you, my dear baby girl. We havent met yet and even when we do, it will be a while before you can read and understand what Im trying to say. I want to tell you how certain experiences from my childhood have stayed with me through the years and influenced me to be a better person. Your interactions with people around you may not seem important now, but you might look back someday and glean important life lessons from them. Some of my own experiences growing up have considerably affected my personality as an adult. A certain political event, authority figures from my childhood, and my mother all combined to shape the way I perceive the world. The people I was exposed to growing up in India in the 90s may turn out to be vastly different than the ones you will meet in your life; however, I hope the message of this letter is no less relevant. You know how some people lament the passing of the good old days? Dont worry; I wont wax nostalgic, but I cant promise that I will be able to stop myself from dispensing well-meaning advice. There can be nothing nostalgic about one of my very first memories from the 90s. In an indirect way, it was my first experience with death. On 21 May, 1991, the Prime Minister of India, Rajiv Gandhi was assassinated by a separatist militant organization knows as the LTTE. I was 6 years old at the time. It happened long past my bedtime, at about 10:30 PM, so I didnt find out till I woke up the next day. Your grandpa came into my room to close the curtains against the morning glare. He looked tense and drawn to me even in my half-asleep state, so I asked him what was wrong. I still remember his exact words: Rajiv Gandhi was killed in a bomb blast. It was perhaps too frightening for a child to hear, but one of the things I appreciate about your grandma and grandpa is that theyve always been honest with me and uncle Kash. They never talked down to us or sugar-coated the harsh realities of life. My fathers words on
Lessons from My Childhood that long-ago morning resonated in me and made me aware for the first time how fragile life is. We are given a limited time on earth. We owe it to ourselves to not waste it on petty concerns
and, instead, focus on being the best possible version of ourselves we can be. My darling, I hope I have taught you the importance of being a good person and that you will always carry this lesson with you. Some of the best people I knew growing up were the teachers and head mistress at the Catholic middle school I attended. They were nuns and exemplified all the best characteristics of their noble calling. They were deeply pious women and considered it a sacred duty to serve their fellow human beings. Many volunteered at shelters for leprosy victims at a time when the afflicted were particularly stigmatized and shunned by society. Before I started parochial school, I had heard stories of how Catholic nuns were rigid disciplinarians bent on making their students miserable; I had no such experiences in my four years at Sacred Heart Matriculation School. The nuns who taught me were kind, intelligent, and patient even with the most unruly pupil. Though it was nominally a Catholic school, religion was never forced upon us. There was a prayer service every Friday at the small chapel adjoining the campus; we were free to attend or not as we pleased. The quiet dignity and faith of the sisters and Mother Superior impressed me very much. Their humanity touched me deeply. Their aim was not only to educate us but also teach us to be respectful and accepting of others. They lived what they preached, which made their words all the more powerful to me: never judge anyone on things beyond their control or by outward appearances; be open-minded and kind-hearted; a smile and a pleasant word cost little but go a long way. Im sure you will have heard me say all this before; now you know whom I learned it from.
Lessons from My Childhood Being a good person refers not only to how you treat others but also how you treat yourself. This rather unique thought occurred to me as a result of watching my mother over the
years. Grandma is a very special person, as you already know. She is highly educated, successful professionally, and did a wonderful job raising me and your uncle. From her, I have learned that it is possible for women to have it all and there is no excuse for shortchanging oneself. She lost her own mother at the age of fourteen and acted as a surrogate parent to her three younger siblingswhile maintaining straight As in school! She was never bitter or resentful of the added responsibilities she had to shoulder at such a young age. On the contrary, she is one of the most optimistic and outgoing people I have the pleasure of knowing. The culture she grew up in was not the most conducive for female advancement, but she persevered and flourished because of determination and hard work. To this day, my father takes every opportunity to proudly declare how mom is a gold-medal-winning post graduate and more educated than he is. That is another thing I admire about her: she married someone who appreciates her intelligence and accomplishments. She has set the bar high for you and me, darling. I hope you welcome the challenge of living up to her standards as eagerly as I do. You know the loudest voice cheering us on from the sidelines would be grandmas. Ultimately, what parents most want for their children is for them to be happy and healthy. Call me greedy because I want you to be a good person as well. I hope this letter helps and guides you to that end when you are unable to turn to me for advice. Be kind to yourself and to those around you. Put your whole heart into whatever you do. Do not be afraid to stand up for your beliefs but never try to impose them on others. The whole world is open to you; aim to be just as expansive in your ideas and actions. Aspire to create an enduring legacy everywhere you go. Go forth and make your family proud, dear daughter.