LE AR N , LISTE N , TE ACH:
T HE LIF E OF A SE L F by
Avery Becklenberg
WRIT 1633: Advanced Writing and Research | Professor John Tiedemann
AT 4:40 ON A SATURDAY NIGHT IN NOVEMBER OF 2007, May stood, with bare feet, on cold sand. White foam greeted the tips of her toes as waves rolled in and out. Cold air flooded the beach, and wind blew briskly by, tangling her long blonde hair and blowing her brown patterned skirt wildly in all directions. As the sun sank low in the sky, the 7-year-old girl begged to go home, but her mother refused her requests because May’s grandmother had yet to arrive. They had planned to meet at 4:30 to take a family picture, featuring all three living generations of the family, but May’s visiting grandmother, Mary Ann, was not in sight, and they could not take the picture without her. Mary Ann had been visiting her son’s family, May’s family, in the small ocean-side town of Pacific Grove, California for about three weeks. When Heidi, Mary Ann’s daughter-in-law, suggested meeting at a nearby beach for a sunset picture to commemorate her trip, Mary Ann enthusiastically agreed. Mary Ann frequently visited that beach, and she had walked there alone countless times before, so when she did not arrive on time for the picture, Heidi began to worry. The setting sun neared the horizon, and if Mary Ann did not arrive soon, they would have to reschedule the picture. The sun set at 4:52 that night, and Mary Ann had yet to appear. The beach plunged into darkness, so the family decided to go look VOLUME 9
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