Essay on Personal Narrative : Never Taken For Granted
The hour had arrived to leave. Cold air engulfed me as I stepped out the door; white snowflakes gently descended from the heavens as I heard the trunk of our van slam shut. “Is everyone here?” my cautious mother stressed, and proceeded to recite a rather lengthy roll call as if we were in a school classroom again, for the tenth time in the morning it seemed. Long road trips I did not have a care in the world for, so when I learned that my family was embarking to Mexico for Christmas, thrill filled my body, until my mother revealed the lengthy time needed to arrive there. Going on a week and a half road trip was one aspect I would not be looking forward to, but what was much worse than a long road trip, was a long road trip with kin I could hardly stand.
“Alright everyone, come inside the van and let’s head out!” my father cheered enthusiastically; although a scarce amount of my family members or relatives matched his enthusiasm, for several of us were half-asleep or already asleep in the seats. Mother initiated another roll call and we departed towards the border of Mexico.
Trees, buildings, and rivers flew past us on our way there, but finally we had arrived at our destination. A completely new world stood before my eyes, hundreds of people crowded the streets, and honestly, I cannot believe that we worked our way out of there with the colossal van we had. It seemed that once one crowd, formed of the elderly, the young, male, and female alike had…