File #1084: "Mosaic_Spring_2004_6.jpg"
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could not use the gloves for fear that the job would not be done correctly and my family would be fired. This is why I removed my gloves again and began to hoe. I will never forget when the blisters began to bleed. I felt my hands sticking to the wooden handle, and when I pulled them off, the tops of the blisters would peel away. We worked from sunrise to sunset, and every night, I would nurse my hands as best I could in the bathroom. I did not want my mother to see and cry again.
After a month of working in the cotton fields, I began to believe that I was living in hell. I spent my hours praying that I would wake up from this nightmare. To make matters worse, my shoes split apart from the soles, and dirt would fill my shoes as I worked. The dirt seemed to be hotter than the temperature outside and would burn my feet as I walked. Therefore, every night I had to nurse my feet as well as my hands, hoping that my parents would not discover that I needed new shoes. I could not bear the thought of them spending money on me when every penny was needed for my mama's new house. Many nights I laid awake, crying, wondering what was happening to us, but I never lost hope.
Just like every morning for the past four months, we woke up at 4:30 and got ready to go to the work. My father was sitting near the "stove" drinking coffee out of a glass jelly jar. He seemed different. He was not rushing us out the door, like he would do every morning, and there was something on his face that I had not seen in weeks-a smile. "We have enough money!" he exclaimed. At first, we said nothing. After a few seconds, we realized that he was saying that we could finally go home. My mother hugged us and cried so hard that my sister and I cried too. As my father hugged my mother, I will never forget the next words he spoke: "I promise we will never do this again." We never did.
We returned to Eagle Lake, and my father sent the money to south Texas for the completion of the house. We packed our be- longings, loaded up the truck, and drove to McAllen, Texas. Watching my mother step into her new home and weep with joy made that torturous summer worthwhile. I was only thirteen years old that summer, and already the way I looked at the world around had changed. I gained a greater appreciation for life and the ability not to take anything for granted. That summer is when, I truly believe, I stopped being a child and became a young adult.
Literary Club Essay Contest Winner
Hay Field
Cameron Clarke
After a month of working in the cotton fields, I began to believe that I was living in hell. I spent my hours praying that I would wake up from this nightmare. To make matters worse, my shoes split apart from the soles, and dirt would fill my shoes as I worked. The dirt seemed to be hotter than the temperature outside and would burn my feet as I walked. Therefore, every night I had to nurse my feet as well as my hands, hoping that my parents would not discover that I needed new shoes. I could not bear the thought of them spending money on me when every penny was needed for my mama's new house. Many nights I laid awake, crying, wondering what was happening to us, but I never lost hope.
Just like every morning for the past four months, we woke up at 4:30 and got ready to go to the work. My father was sitting near the "stove" drinking coffee out of a glass jelly jar. He seemed different. He was not rushing us out the door, like he would do every morning, and there was something on his face that I had not seen in weeks-a smile. "We have enough money!" he exclaimed. At first, we said nothing. After a few seconds, we realized that he was saying that we could finally go home. My mother hugged us and cried so hard that my sister and I cried too. As my father hugged my mother, I will never forget the next words he spoke: "I promise we will never do this again." We never did.
We returned to Eagle Lake, and my father sent the money to south Texas for the completion of the house. We packed our be- longings, loaded up the truck, and drove to McAllen, Texas. Watching my mother step into her new home and weep with joy made that torturous summer worthwhile. I was only thirteen years old that summer, and already the way I looked at the world around had changed. I gained a greater appreciation for life and the ability not to take anything for granted. That summer is when, I truly believe, I stopped being a child and became a young adult.
Literary Club Essay Contest Winner
Hay Field
Cameron Clarke