Memories
Rising at the crack of dawn I raced down the stairs into the kitchen to find my grandmother cooking donuts! That remains one of my fondest memories of the many summers spent at grandmother's. The smell of the freshly cooked sugar or glazed donuts was enough to drive anyone out of their deep sleep. The recently made eggs and bacon, along with fresh squeezed orange juice, gave us the needed energy to go out and start our daily routine of chores. As I remained the youngest of the many of my cousins at the farm that summer, my tasks included feeding the cats, helping with dishes, and pretty much trying to stay out of as much trouble as I possibly could. My grandmother taught me many valuable lessons those summers about life, including humanity, laughter, strength, and most importantly the importance of family. Looking back at the all too short of a time I got to spend with my grandmother, she taught me some of the most valuable morals that I carry with me still today. One of the toughest lessons that I had to deal with was the death of some of my most loved animals. When lambing season came around, there were some very difficult decisions that had to be made. Sometimes, throughout the proces
She lost her husband, my grandpa, when my dad was a senior in college. I remember specifically her walking to the chicken coop and grabbing one of the unlucky chickens by the feet. A lot of who I am and what I stand for started here on this farm on the outskirts of Howard, SD. The most valuable possession that she had was her family. Looking back at the all too short of a time I got to spend with my grandmother, she taught me some of the most valuable morals that I carry with me still today. At the time they were not decisions that I believed were acceptable. She then walked over to the worn beat up shed were she would sit down on a dirty old stool next to a huge stump of what used to be a tree. At the time they were not decisions that I believed were acceptable. My grandmother went on running the farm by herself another ten years before her death. Quietly and swiftly, she'd place the helpless chicken across the stump placing the neck outstretched. As I remained the youngest of the many of my cousins at the farm that summer, my tasks included feeding the cats, helping with dishes, and pretty much trying to stay out of as much trouble as I possibly could. The distance ended up being too great, as my grandpa died in the car. The smell of the freshly cooked sugar or glazed donuts was enough to drive anyone out of their deep sleep. My uncles would come home to help with the planting and harvesting seasons, as well as lambing season.
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Acceptance Essays
