The sculptors of personalities
The Sculptors of Personalities
by Hannah Harkins
Families are like the strong hands of a sculptor that gingerly shape a person's identity like clay. Every finger plays a role in creating lumps and valleys, and every member of a family molds a person and their character. My family is very large and wild, and strange occurrences tend to gravitate toads us, and we are professionals at handling them. These occurrences have formed my love for assisting others.
My family takes an annual summer vacation to South Padre Island, Texas. All of my cousins, aunts, uncles, and grandparents come ready to relax and soak up some sun before the school year begins. Splashing in the water at the beach or lying out by the pool trying to get the perfect golden tan is how we spend our das, and we indulge in delicious seafood for our meals.
One day, a few years ago, we spent the day at the beach. My sister and I were building a sand castle, and my cousins splashed around in the ocean. Just when we had put the finishing touches on our masterpiece, we saw our cousins frantically swimming ack to shore. They screamed unintelligible phrases, and they looked extremely worried and frightened, as if they had just seen a shark. They sprinted to my aunts and uncles and simultaneously yelled, "There's a dead man in the water!"
Before I could process what was happening, my aunt had taken off, sprinting to the water to rescue the alleged dead person, and my dad barked on the phone with the police. A babel broke out amongst the beach-goers. Chaos erupted all around us as ambulances, fire trucks, and police cars arrived. Police forced any other civilians to vacate the beach. Emergency responders swarmed the area, some carrying stretchers and some barking into radios. Lifeguards began swimming out behind my aunt who had nearly reached the figure that my cousins had seen.
Just as quickly s the pandemonium began, a hushed silence fell over the entire beach as my aunt and the life guards swam back to shore dragging what looked like a log with seaweed enrobing half of the wood. The rescuers swam back at a quick leisurely pace. An annoyed expression covered every one of their faces, and my aunt shot a dirty look at my cousins when she reached the shore.
"It's just a log," my aunt proclaimed, anger showing itself in every word.
The emergency responders left the beach obviously angry about the outcome of the event. "What a waste of time! " one of the police officers mumbled as he sat down in the driver's seat of his squad car. They all drove off, but other beachgoers who had already left the beach didn't return that day, in fear of what might have happened.
"That's enough fun for me today," Aunt Debbie proclaimed as we walked back to our beach house. No one could agree more. This experience taught me how to assist someone quickly. Despite the outcome of the situation, my aunt's response shoed me that I should be prepared to help someone in need. The hands that mold a person create every part of their structure, and my family has created my love to help others.