Narrative Essay On Mexico

Narrative Essay

It was two days before Christmas, my family and I were spending the holidays in Mexico at my grandmother’s house. My cousins (Migue and Chucho), my dad and I were decorating the living room while our Aunts and grandmother were out buying ingredients for the big Christmas dinner.
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“Carl,” my dad called, “Go with Migue to cut some branches off the pine tree so we can decorate the Nativity display.

“Ok,” I replied, “Let’s go Migue”. We walked across the garden to the door of the property to get the 25ft ladder. Then we went to the back of the garden to get the hand saw.

After getting the ladder we walked to the pine tree. The pine tree looked to be about 70 feet height. Since the lowest branch was about 20 feet we unfolded the ladder all the way. I volunteered to go first. I climbed up to the first branch and started to saw through it while my cousin Migue held the ladder, so I wouldn’t fall. After about eight or nine minutes the branch fell to the ground. I climbed down the ladder to inspect the branch. It didn’t have enough needles to decorate the whole Nativity display so we decided to cut another branch.
This time Migue climbed up to cut the branch and I held the ladder.
This branch was about 26 feet high, thicker, and right above the ladder, so Migue had to reach up a little to cut it. After a few minutes of holding the ladder my arms started to get tired. All of a sudden, the ladder started to tilt to the left. I held the ladder tighter and looked up. Migue was losing his balance and was about to fall. I quickly pushed to the right just enough so he could grab on to the
branch. “Thanks,” he said looking down at me. He climbed down the ladder so we could have a five minute break. After we rested, he climbed back up and I held on to the ladder more securely than last time. Once again he started to saw through the branch. A few more minutes passed and my arms were starting to get tired again. I looked up and saw that he was almost finished cutting the branch. All of a sudden I hear the branch cracking. “Carl look out!” yelled Migue. I looked up just in time to see the branch break and fall. I didn’t have enough time to do anything, but put my arms up to protect me. Then I feel the branch falling on top of me and knocking the air out of me. I laid there for a few seconds trying to take in what just happened. Then I heard my cousin jumping off the ladder. He bends down and helps me lift the branch off. “Are you ok?” he asked, helping me up, with worry in his eyes. “I tried to hold it, but it was way too heavy.” “I’m fine,” I replied. He dusted the dirt off my back while I inspected my injuries. I had a large cut on the front of my right arm and scratches on both arms. Eventually, the scratches went away, but the cut on my arm left a permanent scar. Although the branch was not large enough to kill me, the injuries could have been more severe. This scar reminds me of when I was young and not always so careful. It also reminds me how lucky I was not to break an arm, or a rib, or even get a concussion. I am thankful.