Its a Wonderful life Essay Example For Students

Its a Wonderful life Essay Its a Wonderful Life Picture a young child full of life and happiness. The love of his parents shows through his eyes, smile, and tears. Some people would like to think that those things about a child are exactly what make life wonderful. People who think that way have no idea how right they are. Its a wonderful life to know that your parents dreams live on in you. The dream of a mother; that her son will be a doctor. The dream of a father; that his son will some day become a major league baseball player. Most of all when its all said and done, that a child can say as a man, Its a Wonderful Life. Its a Wonderful Life are true stories about events that took place in my life that will be with me forever. I can remember when I was a little boy, I played my first game of baseball. My grandfather practiced with me the whole week before the game. Catching and throwing that baseball seemed like a basketball in my little hands. My grandfather showed me how to place my feet in the batters box and how to bat. From that day on, I was in love with the game of baseball. Now that I look back I wonder what meant more to me, catching that baseball or the fact that my grandfather taught me the game. As I grew older and more mature I learned a lot about my grandfather. I was told stories about his life and what a great ballplayer he was. He could have gone pro, but he didnt have the support of his parents. Instead he went ahead and joined the army. It would kill most men to come that close to their dreams, but if you ask him it was a wonderful life. I was now a teenager at the age of sixteen, and it was time to get my drivers license. This was a day that every parent dreads, and my mom was one of them. I can remember asking my mother for the car keys so that I could take my road test. I detected a small smile under her rolling eyes and stone hard frown. My mom understood how she felt when she got her license. It meant freedom and responsibility for someone she raised from a baby . I can still remember mom saying, You damn kids grow up too fast as a single tear rolled down her face. That night I didnt even leave the house. My mother and I talked for hours about how it was when she was young. It was an enjoyable evening just talking to her. It was a wonderful life. Graduation day from high school never comes soon enough, so we think. Until the day is over then we wish half our lives we could get back to that time. It was the sixth of June 1996, graduation day. I never felt so happy to have a piece of paper in my hand. That paper was worth four years of my life. It symbolized my stressful days at school. It meant four years of baseball, football, and wrestling. The years of my life that were hard to endure, but so easy to look back on. These were the days that tested my knowledge and spirit. These are the people and places that will live in my memory forever. There was a place called Tanner Park. This was the place everyone went to get away from it all. People showed off their cars and threw around the old football. The girls there wouldnt give me the time of day, but yet I still managed to have fun. I remember the all night parties that seemed to never end. Although these four years of my life were during my childhood, they helped make it a wonderful life. My life is not over. The life I live is far from over. I dont regret any of the things that Ive said or done because they are what make up my life. The dreams my parents have for me live on in my heart everyday along with my .u2735a8054823c66713a4978003d9f13e , .u2735a8054823c66713a4978003d9f13e .postImageUrl , .u2735a8054823c66713a4978003d9f13e .centered-text-area { min-height: 80px; position: relative; } .u2735a8054823c66713a4978003d9f13e , .u2735a8054823c66713a4978003d9f13e:hover , .u2735a8054823c66713a4978003d9f13e:visited , .u2735a8054823c66713a4978003d9f13e:active { border:0!important; } .u2735a8054823c66713a4978003d9f13e .clearfix:after { content: ""; display: table; clear: both; } .u2735a8054823c66713a4978003d9f13e { display: block; transition: background-color 250ms; webkit-transition: background-color 250ms; width: 100%; opacity: 1; transition: opacity 250ms; webkit-transition: opacity 250ms; background-color: #95A5A6; } .u2735a8054823c66713a4978003d9f13e:active , .u2735a8054823c66713a4978003d9f13e:hover { opacity: 1; transition: opacity 250ms; webkit-transition: opacity 250ms; background-color: #2C3E50; } .u2735a8054823c66713a4978003d9f13e .centered-text-area { width: 100%; position: relative ; } .u2735a8054823c66713a4978003d9f13e .ctaText { border-bottom: 0 solid #fff; color: #2980B9; font-size: 16px; font-weight: bold; margin: 0; padding: 0; text-decoration: underline; } .u2735a8054823c66713a4978003d9f13e .postTitle { color: #FFFFFF; font-size: 16px; font-weight: 600; margin: 0; padding: 0; width: 100%; } .u2735a8054823c66713a4978003d9f13e .ctaButton { background-color: #7F8C8D!important; color: #2980B9; border: none; border-radius: 3px; box-shadow: none; font-size: 14px; font-weight: bold; line-height: 26px; moz-border-radius: 3px; text-align: center; text-decoration: none; text-shadow: none; width: 80px; min-height: 80px; background: url(https://artscolumbia.org/wp-content/plugins/intelly-related-posts/assets/images/simple-arrow.png)no-repeat; position: absolute; right: 0; top: 0; } .u2735a8054823c66713a4978003d9f13e:hover .ctaButton { background-color: #34495E!important; } .u2735a8054823c66713a4978003d9f13e .centered-text { display: table; height: 80px; padding-left : 18px; top: 0; } .u2735a8054823c66713a4978003d9f13e .u2735a8054823c66713a4978003d9f13e-content { display: table-cell; margin: 0; padding: 0; padding-right: 108px; position: relative; vertical-align: middle; width: 100%; } .u2735a8054823c66713a4978003d9f13e:after { content: ""; display: block; clear: both; } READ: Creon and Antigone as Tragic Heroes in Sophocles' Essay