"Psychology personal narrative essay" Essays and Research Papers

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    It was negative two degrees fahrenheit outside as I walked down the sidewalk. My house was just a block up ahead and I was slowly getting closer. Now the house was visible‚ but there was a movement on the front porch. I made it to the house to see a family of four homeless people trying to hide from the cold. I asked‚ “ Do you guys have any shelter?” The male‚ presumably the dad‚ of the family said‚ “No.” “Well come inside‚” I said as I opened the front door. They all hurried in as quickly as possible

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    Friday night‚ as our entire family sat together in the living room watching an episode of Jeopardy‚ listening to one of the contestants give their story about how they taught their African grey parrot to not only have an eighteen hundred word vocabulary‚ but also be bilingual‚ you could feel everyone’s boredom spread throughout the room. My brother‚ who was sick and tired of hearing Alex Trebek said‚ “Guys‚ why don’t we ever go do something fun! We should go to Magic Mountain this weekend.” I shrugged

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    The summer of 2009‚ I arrived to the United States with my mother and two siblings for the first time. While I was looking forward to new opportunities in a country known for its liberties and opportunities‚ leaving my home and family was devastating. I cried every night because I was 1‚509 miles away from my birthplace. I was now in a foreign land and I could not identify with many people. That was the start of a brand new era. It was difficult adapting to a new country‚ language and culture. I

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    It was a nice spring day‚ the sun shined bright‚ the flowers waved in the wind and you could smell the fresh cut grass. In a rural area right outside of Smithville lived a teenage girl named Grace. She had blonde hair and blue eyes. Grace was small for her age‚ but she was mighty. She was shy‚ but caring and she loved animals. There was something special about Grace that only a few people that were very close to Grace knew. Grace had the power of speed. Grace was a normal teenager before she got

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    Ice. What could be danger to a mother‚ a symbol to a reader‚ or a slab of frozen water to most of you is my home. It’s where I have found my true self and have grown up. Rink to rink‚ pond to pond. Anywhere I could find an opportunity to progress and do what I love. Hundreds of miles on road under my feet‚ but yet thousands on the ice. It’s never there to put me down or lift me up but to remind me where I started and where I am today. When I am on the ice I feel perfectly content and feel at home

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    There were seven little soldier boys left on my island‚ and one of them came dangerously close to revealing me‚ that I was the murderer. I decided to throw out all of the logs so new lumber would have to be chopped down for the fire. Originally I planned to sneak up behind him and taking him out while he chopped‚ but they decided to have one person chopping while the other five watched out for a murderer. I decided to pretend like I was asleep while they were doing chores‚ so no one would suspect

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    So there I was‚ in Creative Writing‚ working on my project‚ when suddenly my name was announced on the intercom above my head‚ “Fiona Bailey‚ please come to the front office‚ Fiona Bailey.” I became surprised for a moment‚ then I stood up‚ left my classroom‚ and started speed walking through the halls towards the office. As I walked through the office doors and asked the front office what they needed me for‚ I noticed something. There were a bunch of people there that I didn’t recognize‚ and a woman

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    My grandpa was a simple man‚ and he lived a pretty average life. He wore flannels in the summer‚ and a goofy smile every day. He snuck candy to his kids when they were grounded‚ and quoted The Princess Bride to cheer them up. He answered every phone call with “yellow”‚ and tormented you with the same riddle until you got it right. He could eat a whole box of twinkies and the peas I hid under my plate. The twinkies‚ though‚ proved too much for his heart to handle‚ as his life was cut short at 58.

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    I remember this night better than I remember last night. My sister was only ten‚ and I only seven. At the time my mother worked third shift‚ she was driving us to our baby-sitters house. It was dark out‚ I don’t remember exactly what time it was but it was late. I had on my favorite pink nightgown‚ it was wet from running to the car in the downpour. I was on the right side of the backseat looking out at the rain‚ it was raining very hard that night. No one was talking‚ we were all very tired

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    Cameron Pipes 6/15/11 Personal Narrative College Essay I was eight years old and I couldn’t even tie my shoes. I possessed no athletic talent. I was socially awkward because I was the kid that no one wants on their team. In the fall of 2002‚ my third grade P.E. teacher at my elementary school noticed my inability to do simple athletic tasks‚ such as jumping rope. At the same time‚ my parents noticed that it was beyond my physical capacity to tie my shoes or write well. So‚ I began attending

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