When I was young, I often found myself lost in malls. My mom would wonder off, thinking I was right behind her. My curiosity would often get the best of me, gluing me in front of the wide array of colorful displays amidst the buzz of strangers walking aimlessly around the mall. The instant I sense that my mom has wondered off, I realize that here I am, a lost child without a clear sense of direction, in the middle of an unfamiliar territory and seamlessly insignificant to the rest who seem to know where to go.
With hope and gut fell, I’d look for mom and find her calm and composed, unaware of the uncharted path I bravely took to find her. Years after, I’ve acquired a keen sense of direction. I’ve memorized the whole mall I can even see it with my eyes closed. However, the sparkling and colorful displays don’t suspend my world like it used to. I look at kids enjoying the rides. I chuckle. I can’t believe I once had the time of my life riding one of those. The kids who get lost don’t catch my attention either. They’ll find their way, just like I did.
Now, I’ve become one of those who walked aimlessly at malls. And doing that, I saw a kid. His eyes were shining brightly, a wide grin spread across his innocent face. He was so excited and awestruck at the same time that I have to stop and watch him. It turned out that he was about to ride an escalator. That was all it took to render him in awe- nothing fancy, nothing out of this world. Maybe it was his first ride, maybe his fiftieth. Maybe it didn’t matter. I thought to myself, “I was once like him. ” Once, I was always looking at things, not just seeing them, but really looking at them.
The Essay on Book Ends Kids Guide Ride
Book ends Have Toddler Will Travel This may be a natural progression from Sarah Tucker's previous book, Have Baby Will Travel, but it is at least 10 times better, probably because the author spent a year travelling round Britain interviewing families about their experiences rather than writing up her own. The result is a thoroughly researched book, bulging with information and tips, covering every ...
Once, I never ran out of questions, never grew tired of looking up, never thought that what I knew was enough. Where is that person? Did I lose her? And if I did, will I find her? Like the pilot in Little Prince, I, too, had to grow old and for some reason, we all have to. Even the child who was so fond of escalators will grow old. The question is, does growing old mean growing accustomed to everything and eventually growing tired of it all? There is a certain feeling of betrayal that accompanies growing old.
As a kid, I looked forward to Christmas and, of course, Santa Claus. He always gave me anything I asked for. But one Christmas Eve, I searched for my gift from Santa, to no avail. I thought he’d deliver it if I fell asleep. First thing in the morning, I hurriedly look for my gift. I searched everywhere for a good half an hour only to be disappointed in the end. My parents told me that I was already too old for Santa. I didn’t want to believe it. An hour later, they called me and told me to look again, this time emphasizing that I had to try looking at the stockings.
And there it was, a crisp five hundred peso bill with “From Santa” written on the envelope. I knew it wasn’t from him. I didn’t ask for money. And besides, I knew quite well what my uncle’s handwriting looked like. I’m sure he and Santa didn’t share the same handwriting. Every time I look back at that incident, I can’t help but smile at my seemingly foolish behavior. But back then, the feeling of betrayal was so real I had to cry. I cried for the fact that Christmas wouldn’t be the same again, for the possibility that fairies and magic do not exist as well.
I cried because the world, as I knew it, had to change when I wasn’t even ready yet. I cried, too, because I knew that the world would not wait for me to stop crying. Now, I hardly cry. I’ve stopped expecting to avoid getting hurt. I’ve stopped searching because I fear I won’t find what I’m looking for, or maybe, I’m too afraid to admit that I’ve grown tired of searching. Somehow, I’ve learned to create my own glass globe, like the roses in The Little Prince, to shield me from disappointments, frustrations, and truths. However, this globe is suffocating.
The Essay on Prince Hal
In The First Part of King Henry the Fourth, Shakespeare presents Prince Hal; a young man faced with his coming of age as king. Prince Hal is torn between a world filled with youthful irresponsibility and a world that consists of adult political seriousness. Shakespeare uses several dramatic foils to highlight Prince Hals inner conflict. One foil Shakespeare uses is the contrast between the ...
Deep inside, I want to go back to the time when felt that the whole world was something I had to explore. I long for searches, for encounters with reality no matter how painful. Because here I am, very much concerned with, as the pilot in the Little Prince would say, matter of consequence, yet also very much in need of something more essential, something I may never fully own. I want to be like that child who often found herself lost in malls – vulnerable yet brave enough. I want to be able to see the world without getting tired of staring at it.
I want to be able to cry for something I believe is real. I want to be in search for something, braving the fact that I may never find it. For as the pilot and the little prince found a well in the dessert, I too, shall believe that in order to search for something, one must yearn for it sincerely and lovingly. As humans we know that nothing truly worthwhile is ever that simple. There is something intriguing in searching yet not finding – the knowledge that the mystery of that which is elusive will always be there and will always keep us at bay.
We’ve learned that an aner philosphos is hos philei to sophon. 1 Are we still in philei with the Sophon? Are we still loving search for being in Being? Or have we stopped yearning, thinking that we’ve found our way, a way that will lead us to all the answers? Have I really memorized the mall that is this world that I can see it even with my eyes closed? I am called to once again be in search, but this time, not for my mom, not for Santa’s present, but for her – that person who once searched for her mom, once searched for Santa’s present.
It is she who saw the world in wonder. It is she who saw the world without the glass globe. It is she who felt the world and saw the bigger picture. And when I find her, I will know that the world is not like the mall which I can memorize, not like money inside the stocking whose value is mine to own. Instead, I will understand that what I know and what I will know and what I will know of it will never be truly enough. The searching will never end.