Short Essay on My Last Day at School By Ankita on August 21‚ 2011 in How to Write Essay Tears trickle down my cheeks as I remember my last day in my school. It was the day of parting and parting in life is painful. It was the last chapter of the glorious book of my student life. I had been a student in my school for ten years. It was a golden period of my life. But the golden period passed away like a happy dream. The 15th of February‚ 1964‚ was my last day at school. It was a day of mixed joy
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Best day of my life The best day of my life was definitely the day that I graduated High school. Knowing that all the hard work over the past 12 years has paid off is one of the best feelings I’ve ever had. Being able to walk across the stage and have my diploma handed to me made it all worth it. Making it even better‚ I had my teachers‚ classmates‚ friends and family all there to watch and support me. Even though it was bittersweet knowing I may never see some of these people again‚ I was excited
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My First Speeding Ticket It was a cool December evening. I was tired but excited to be going back to my hometown for the weekend. It was a long drive home and I wished time would go by faster. The clock on the dash beat methodically‚ as if it was in time with the rotation of the tires‚ round‚ and round. Suddenly my thoughts were interrupted as I met an oncoming police officer and realized that I was exceeding the speed limit a great deal. Frantic I sped up and looked for a road that
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When I was seven‚ my teacher succeeded in saving me. I was trapped in my own mind. Fearing judgment and the unfamiliar‚ I hid within the embrace of anxiety. I knew that anxiety was preventing me from acting like the rest of my classmates‚ however‚ I didn’t mind. I felt a sense of security within my world of limited knowledge and dangers. One day‚ my teacher handed me a stack of books from the library. They were various works of fiction‚ some of which were tales of dragons and wizards. I reluctantly
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Volunteering The first time I volunteered was at a humane society‚ and they had me cleaning out cages‚ and kennels. While I was cleaning‚ I was wearing gloves and a face mask‚ because the feces were so gross! A few of the dogs had actually gotten sick‚ while I was there‚ so I was cleaning up vomit. Breathing almost made me hurl every time I went into a different cage. When I was done‚ I had to go around outside in the running area and pick up poop. And after I was done with that‚ I went straight
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Racial defacing In Malcolm X’s excerpt My First Conk‚ He describes the process to get a conk. He talks about how his friend will do it for free instead of paying for it. He then goes on to list the items they need to buy to make the “congolene” to make the conk. They need “Red Devil lye‚ two eggs‚ and two medium- sized white potatoes… and a large jar of Vaseline‚ a large bar of soap.” Then the drugstore clerk comments about the Malcolm X getting a conk and Malcolm proudly says “Right!” He later
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My First Job Experience After finishing my SPM and relaxing with my friends for about three weeks‚ I was wondering what else I should do. When I hanging around with friends at shopping complex‚ I saw I vacancy for a promoter job in a telecommunication company and I am interested in it. After being interviewed‚ I am hired as promoter for P1 4G company and that is my very first job in my life. I am being told to work for 10 hours per day and six days per week. On the first day I go to work‚ I met
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My first memory of school is the first day of primary school. It is my first day without the toys and a dress with a nice style. Primary school was far larger than my small kindergarten had been. It was a nice day‚ with hope and happiness and a lot of fun. I pretended to be a good kid‚ sitting on my seat carefully. Listening to the teacher‚ a kind beautiful woman called Miss Zhou talking softly to us. I observed the small tables and the small chairs change into the desks‚ without the colors; the
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unbearable sadness. Much like a potter molds clay our experiences mold us for the better and erstwhile for the worst. I have two memories of my early life that stick out most to me. My first memory I want to share is of fracturing my arm. I was eight when this transpired. I went to a day camp every summer. The camp was in the neiborhood where I grew up‚ so all my comrades went to the same camp. We would play all kinds of games and there were many activities for us to participate in like swimming and
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participation in their faith formation. As a catholic‚ my journey started with baptism when I was born and it became stronger when I received my First Holy Communion. First Holy Communion is a Catholic Church ceremony. It is the colloquial name for a person’s first reception of the Sacrament of the Holy Eucharist. Catholics believe this event to be very important‚ as the Eucharist is one of the central focuses of the Catholic Church. It is the day when we partake in Lord’s last supper. Before receiving
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