Have you ever been faced with the decision between going the easy way or the hard way? Most likely, you have chosen the easy way over the hard way a multitude of times. But when you make the exception and take the risk to step out of your comfort zone and go the extra mile, you gain something more. I was faced with this very decision myself, and I made the decision to step out of my comfort zone and try something new.

     There is a ski resort about a four hour drive from Albany called Jay Peak. It is an extremely vast mountain that contains many ski trails. The trails range from extremely flat and effortless to steep and filled with jagged rocks, slick ice, and thick powder. My most memorable run was from the top of the mountain. It runs right underneath the lift that carries you to the very top. And the worst part? To call it a “trail” is completely erroneous. With rocks, stumps, logs, ice, and potholes all hidden by a thin sheet of snow, this “trail” was nearly impossible for someone of my skill level. Just knowing that I could fall on any of these hidden obstacles, concealed by a white curtain, put me in mental agony.

     I watched my older friends step up to the challenge, with seemingly no regret, and start their way down the prodigious mountain side. I knew that if I followed them, I would be faced with an extremely difficult challenge. The pine trees all around seemed to be waiting for my decision. I nearly threw up a lung as my stomach twisted in knots. I didn’t want to do it. But at the same time I felt that I should. The firm white snow underneath me told me to stay where I was, but my mind told me to follow my friends. I was nearly torn in two by the dilemma. But in the end, I decided that the best thing I could do was follow my friends. And with my heart in my throat, and my stomach in knots, I slowly began to make my way down the biggest confrontation of my life.

     My knees trembled as I began to pick up speed.  I gradually became more aware of my surroundings. My senses began to process everything happening around me. I could hear the scraping of my skis against a hidden rock in the snow. Suddenly, the front of my skis caught on something invisible to me. I fell forwards into the unforgiving snow. Since the “trail” was so steep, I kept on tumbling down through all the hidden perils. Eventually, I came to a stop on a slightly less steep spot on the “trail.” My limbs ached as if a tiger's jaws had locked onto each of them. My skis had come undone and were several feet above where I sat, battered and dazed.

     I mindlessly stood up and once again fell over. The steep trail, powdery snow, and my aching body made it nearly impossible for me to reach my skis. Eventually, I managed to reach my skis but was then faced by another challenge; I couldn’t put them back on. Through more struggle, I managed to pull myself to the edge of the trail where I could barely put my skis back on. I somehow managed to blindly attach them back to my boots and unsteadily rise to my feet. My face burned with embarrassment. I could feel the floodgates behind my eyes begin to open up, and I could sense the eyes of the people on the ski lift. An icicle of dread stabbed through my heart as I felt them all watching me, all following my every move, all seeming to laugh at my struggle.

     Chest heaving, I finally managed to resume my descent. Now that I knew what to look out for, I was more cautious and aware, careful not to embarrass myself a second time. And after several close calls and falling face first into a mound of powder, I managed to reach the ski lift. Underneath the ski lift was much the same, filled with rocks and stumps. But this time, I knew what I was up against. I knew how to handle it. And so I leaned forwards and practically flew down the rest of the trail.

     That newfound confidence I had acquired from my battle with the double black remained in my mind, making me feel invincible. The certainty that was in my head told me that nothing could bring me down. That I could face anything. Not that I would ever go on that trail again.

     That day taught me to take challenges in skiing and in everyday life. Sometimes, when you are presented with the choice of easy or hard, it is better to take the hard way because that way you try something new and out of your own comfort zone. Sometimes you don’t realize it, but from your struggles, something new comes to you. You often never realize it, but the thing that comes to you from your struggles can help you throughout your life. Sometimes, taking risks rewards you with something more than a memory.

-Daniel W

      Do you have any fears? Well around one third of the world's population has a fear of heights, and someone like me is a part of that. I have always had a slight fear of heights but at the same time always loved sports. For example, I play baseball, basketball, and football. When I signed up for Skiing for fun and to try something new during my final year of Elementary School, fifth grade, I had no idea what it was or what would happen. I just signed up because almost everybody in fifth grade signed up, and I also had never thought about skiing before this club came to my attention.

     The club in fifth grade had included an hour of lessons and teaching, and afterwards an hour of free skiing. The hour of teaching always felt as if it was an eternity. Most days in the club were calm, clear, and the snow had been man-made, but that day it had snowed, which made the snow more slippery and wet. I usually preferred to go down alone as I liked being calm and not rushed. But that day I decided to go down with one of my friends, Justin, and he wanted me to go down the longer and taller hills.

     It was the second to last week of the ski season, and it had snowed the previous day before Ski club. It was so cold that day; I felt like I had gone numb.  The ground was very icy and slippery. The clouds were still flourishing in the air, still gray as if it were about to spew snow vigorously. Justin and I slid over to the line for the ski lift, and it was my first time ever. The wait for the lift was shorter than usual as the second and third ski lift had recently reopened. Once we got on I could barely open my eyes. But as I became more comfortable with the lift, which literally held my life in its seat, I opened my eyes. The view was astonishing as you could see nearby stadiums, buildings, and people. The wind gushed on my face as we neared the top of the ski lift. At that same moment I realized how terrified I sometimes could get from heights like this.

     The chair started slowing down and becoming even with the ground as I stumbled myself off the chair; then I waddled over toward the hill with my friend because he wanted to take me down it. My dad was watching me from below the cliffside. I could see how icy and slippery this hill was as it just started to snow once more. My heart was pounding heavily at this point. Hands shaking, I had never been this high before while standing on flat ground; I had only gone down the hills for smaller kids. This was also one of the steepest cliffs at the ridge. It was a Blue Square as the second hardest cliff, but our instructors said if we hadn't skied before this club we couldn't go down the Black Diamonds. This made this the highest possible cliff I could ski. 

     Adrenaline was rushing through me as I slowly scrambled myself down, hair brushing through the swift wind.  I could feel the wind pushing against me as I accelerated in speed. My hands started intensely shaking as I slipped but regained balance. As I started to get to the end of the slope I started to form my feet to decelerate. I was slashing through the wind as I came to a halt; I stopped at the bottom a few feet away from my dad. I gave myself a sigh of relief as I may have sprayed my dad with some snow. Rushing and running, I went up to the hill one last time before the club ended.

     Skiing had never been fun or apparent to me before I had actually tried it. No one ever talked about skiing or about the times they had. Well, at least not until I and everybody else in my grade realized. As I skied the biggest hill possible, as a beginner, while having a deathly fear of heights, it actually turned out to be a whole blast of fun! Once you are able to overcome or achieve something you're scared to do, a rush of adrenaline can become a rush of joy. And you can get rushes of joy or excitement by just conquering one of your greatest fears.

-Chase M.

     Gray clouds started to roll in and cover up the sun as the sleeping butterflies in my stomach awakened. I reluctantly walked up the hill onto the gravel that felt like broken glass under my bare feet and into the back of my dad’s truck. I posed for one last picture, and then off it was to start the race.

     That race was many years ago, but I can still recall it with strong nervousness. I was nine at the time, and my mom and dad had forced me to participate in The Swim for the Cup. It was a race that took place every year at Babcock Lake. I always knew that there was going to be a year where I would have to participate in the race, but I never knew it would come so soon.

     I tried to smile and cheer up, but at this point my nerves had taken up my whole body. I looked back at the road and all the pebbles flying up from the tires. My dad pulled into the driveway, and I ducked under the branches of a maple tree. All the other kids hopped out and raced down the hill. As I hopped out of the back of the car, I pleaded to my dad to spare me and let me skip the race, but deep down I knew that would never happen and that all I could do at this point was persevere.

     I slowly hobbled down the hill, wanting to throw up and disappear forever. I saw my friends and tried to cheer up, but nothing worked. I was too nervous. A tall man with a scraggly beard started to take attendance. I thought, this is my chance! I can just not say “here” when he calls on me! But out of knowing my parents would literally kill me if I didn’t swim, when he called my name, I said, “Here.”

      I trudged into the water and swam out to the raft, kicking and splashing, trying to conserve energy for the mile-long race. I got up onto the raft and jumped into the water. I begged my mom one more time, but as expected, she said, “No,” and tried to make me think more positively. Before I knew it the race had started, and the splashes of people swimming their hardest hit me in the face. I reluctantly started swimming. All hope of somehow getting out of participating in the race had long vanished.

     I felt a drop of water on my forehead, but it wasn’t the splashing of a person swimming next to me. I looked up, the sun was gone, and in its place were gray, gloomy clouds that stretched across the sky like paint, covering up the sunny blue sky that once lay in its place. My mind, only wanting the race to be over, regained the hope of it thundering. If it thundered we would have to get out of the water and call off the race for today. Fingers crossed, I wish that it would thunder.

     A few seconds later, I felt more drops on my forehead. “Did you feel that, Mom?”

     “Yeah, I think it’s going to rain,” she replied.

     “Do you think it’s going to thunder,” I asked eagerly.

     “I don’t know, maybe your dad will know. Simon!” She got interrupted by the downpour of rain. Fog quickly settled in, and tornado-like wind followed.

     “Ugh,” I heard my sister groan; it was her first year doing the race too.  “My goggles keep on fogging up!”

     “Give them to me,” my dad said, reaching over from his kayak. She reached over and handed him the goggles. I was trying to do backcrawl, but the rain kept on falling down. It felt like the race was going on forever, but I kept on pushing through, one stroke at a time.

     I turned the corner into a patch of seaweed.  “Aaah,” I screamed.

     “What?” my mom asked, concerned.

     “There’s seaweed,” I exclaimed.

     “Just swim through it quickly,” she replied calmly. I groaned but kept on swimming. I finally got out of the seaweed and redirected myself towards the finish line at the beach.  My muscles ached, and I could barely see or hear a thing.

     The minutes went by as I got closer and closer to the finish. I’m almost there. I swiftly flipped onto my back and used all my might to race to the rope. I started to hear a crowd of people cheering. I swam until my hand slapped the rope. I got up with a tired but overjoyed smile. I lifted up the rope and trudged over to my sister, who was waiting for me. She scooped me up and carried me shallower. I could barely feel my legs, but I had a smile on my face.

     I was glad it was over and glad that I persevered and overcame my fear. I pushed through and finished the race. I didn’t win, but I didn’t care because I had persevered and overcame my fear. The next time you’re faced with something terrifying, take it heads on.

-Bryn L.

      Have you ever been so terrified about an experience or trying something new that you almost could not go through with it? Well this was me when we went to Mexico last year. It was time to go on an adventure that at the time filled me with horrifying thoughts. I can not explain the type of fear that I was overcome by, but what I thought would be the worst day turned out to be one of the most amazing experiences I have ever encountered. This is a life lesson that I will always remember and carry with me as the time comes to face something scary and unknown. 

     Every year in April, my family and I take a vacation to Cancun, Mexico. The tradition started three years ago. Every time we visit, my mom always has an astonishing, fun, and amazing experience planned. This year, we went swimming in a cenote. The name cenote actually means sacred well. These are located in the Yucatan Peninsula and other places around the world. A cenote is a naturally made underground sinkhole. Rainwater pours over the soft limestone bedrock, and after time this stone collapses and forms the underground river system. The Mayans treasured cenotes because they were a source of water in dry times.  Pretty awesome, right? 

     When my mom told me that we would be swimming in underground caves I was terrified. The thought of swimming with bats, fish, and other unknown creatures in the water sent chills throughout my body. I begged to stay back at the hotel. This was not my idea of a fun or relaxing vacation. However, I was forced to participate and join my family on this adventure. 

     When we arrived, I was having second thoughts. Jose, the cenote tour guide, took us down a set of slippery, skinny stairs into the entrance of the first cave. Vines hung over the side of the rock walls as we climbed further down the stairs. It was narrow in some places, and we had to twist our bodies to get through. Once we made it to the bottom, it was like we were in another world. 

     Jose walked us to a very special place at the base of the stairs. Right in front of us was a pile of valuables, including a silver watch sitting next to an orange lit candle. There was also a pair of sunglasses, a gold ring, and crystal gemstones. These items were all found by other people who have swam throughout the cenotes. Jose said that whatever was found in the cave belonged to the spirits. If any one took a valuable with them they would have bad luck. There was no way I was touching those collectables. 

     Next, Jose led us to the underground swimming pool. The water was crystal clear, and the darkness of the cave was unsettling. We each had a flashlight to help us see. I held onto the stair railing as I dipped my foot in the water. The water was freezing. Again, fear was starting to take over. I was hesitant to go in, but it was too late to turn back. I talked myself into going in further, and with shaking, trembling legs, I finally made it in. It was amazing. My flashlight lit up under the water, and I began to swim within the cave. The water was smooth like glass, and the light glimmered like fireflies in the dark night. The silence of the cave was like nothing I had experienced. Bats flew around my head, but I was not scared anymore. 

     The beauty of the cave inspired me to want to swim further. The limestone shimmered a faint gold color. The texture of the stone was smooth like silk. The only sound we could hear was the swishing of the water as we swam through. Jose then lead us to a shallow sandy area. We stood on this pile of soft, sticky sand that poked out of the water. It was a nice break from swimming. All of a sudden, he told everyone to turn off our flashlights.  My eyes went blind in the lightless cave. I heard bat wings fluttering around me and the movement of the water from the tiny fish living in it. I could not wait to turn my flashlight back on. The excited, inquisitive group was led through a narrow tunnel.  I felt the smooth limestone rubbing against my legs as I swam. My favorite part of the adventure was the sinkhole. Looking up at the top of the cave was a hole with blinding sunshine and a tree growing through it. I could not believe what I was seeing. It was a once in a lifetime kind of day!

     Looking back on this memory, I am so happy that I was able to experience this adventure with my family. If I let the fear take over, then I would have missed out on something pretty amazing. The lesson to learn here is to always try new things, even if they seem scary at first. Push yourself out of your comfort zone. You could miss out on a lot of amazing things in life if you let your fears take over and hold you back from experiencing life. The butterflies that you feel at first will give you wings to fly through bigger and better life experiences.

-Brooklynn S.

     Everyone wants to accomplish something, right? Whether it’s something as big as being a millionaire, or something as small as reaching the top shelf without the assistance of a stepping stool. Everyone wants to accomplish something. Even something as simple as going on an amusement park ride could take plenty of effort.

     It all began one dull summer evening. Boredom wafted through the air as we desperately attempted to reconstruct this lifeless afternoon into an amusing opportunity for enjoyment and gratification; however, our cravings were too far-fetched. Tomorrow was another day to silence our demand for amusement, for my mom had created a plan for the next day so as to not have one as mundane as this one. We would go to Six Flags: The Great Escape amusement park to cure our dread. When the next day rolled around, I had forgotten our arrangement to travel to The Great Escape, so when my mom brought it up I was pleasantly caught by surprise. I got ready for my day as quickly as a rabbit running away from a fox and swiftly got into the car. Then I realized the car trip to The Great Escape takes about an hour, and with pretty much nothing to do, this would be an exceedingly trite ride.

     Once we finally arrived at The Great Escape, we were all gleaming with excitement, arms flailing. We all quickly argued over which ride to go on first. Lily was obsessed with going on the Flashback, but Noah wanted to go on a huge drop tower called the Sasquatch. I did not desire to take a ride on the Flashback, but Lily was dying to go, so my mom suggested that I go along with Noah to the Sasquatch. 

     I wasn’t particularly interested in going on the Sasquatch, but it would bring me closer to completing my goal of trying every single ride at The Great Escape. I needed to try it, no matter how scary it was. As we slowly strolled to the Sasquatch, I could feel a chill drift down my spine. I looked up at the enormous tower. Knees trembling, I slumped closer, and then I couldn’t handle the horror. I watched as Noah rode the gigantic device. The ride was quick yet horrifying. He was launched into the air and swiftly bounced back down. How the Sasquach looked to me was how an elephant looks to a mouse. Once Noah was finished, we trotted back to where we left Lily and Peyton. Noah was telling me how amazing and lively riding the Sasquatch was; however, that just made me more frightened. 

     “Ashton,” he exclaimed with excitement, “that was the most fun I've had in my life!” We met up right outside of the Flashback when Mom suggested that we would all go on the “Ring of Fire” ride nearby. Alright, I thought, since I didn’t try the Sasquatch, maybe I could try the Ring of Fire to make up for it. I need to. I need to try. As we made our way forward to the Ring of Fire, I began to see how big it actually was. The ride intimidated me but not as much as the Sasquatch did. We walked through the entrance to the line when above I saw that the name of the ride was in fact not the Ring of Fire; it was the Breeze Lightning. 

     “What a missed opportunity,” I exclaimed. As we got closer and closer to the entrance, we got to see how the ride tipped people upside-down. You got strapped in by a harness, and then the harness was buckled into the seat. When our turn came around, Noah, Nathan, Mom and I all went into one of the booths and sat down. In unison, we all pulled down the large puffy harness and buckled them in. Once the ride had begun Nathan remarked about how sudden and forceful it was. The ride brought us up and down, up and down, up and down over and over again until finally it brought us through a full loop. It felt as if we were on a rocket shooting straight to the moon. It was exhilarating, and I loved it. Once we got off I thought, Wow, that is a ride that I will definitely go on again. I’m so very glad that I tried it.

     Later that day, we made our way to the other side of the park into some shade when disaster struck. It had started to rain. The sky’s once beautiful baby blue was now a disappointing bluish-gray. We all groaned in dismay. Lily and mom rushed to a tree to take cover from the rain, but I did not care as much. Since it was so close by, Noah and Peyton wanted to go on a ride called the Extreme Supernova, but I didn’t want to try it because I saw it run before, and it was horrifying. As they all got in line Mom said to me, “Let's make a deal. You’ve already tried one new ride. If you try the Sasquatch and the Extreme Supernova I will give you five dollars.” 

     “Ten dollars,” I conferred.

     “Fine,” Mom remarked, “Now hurry up, the ride is going to start soon.” I rushed to the entrance, slipping through the bars of the empty line, and promptly sat down next to Peyton and Nathan. Hands shaking, 

     I asked Nathan about the Extreme Supernova. He said, “It’s very easy, and if you’re really nervous, you could close your eyes.” I didn’t know what “easy” meant in this context, but I did close my eyes. At first when the ride started it was just swaying back and forth with a little bit of spinning, but after a little while that ride started to pick up. I could feel that we started to get higher, and then the ride actually started to get interesting. We were spinning and tossing, but it wasn’t all that bad. I opened my eyes and saw slight images moving quickly. It was as if the whole world was being flung off into space. 

     It wasn’t all that bad. The ride quickly slowed down and came to a close. And that was it. I was so thankful for that bet I had made with Mom, because if it never took place, I would have never gone on the Extreme Supernova that day. And now, there was only one thing left to do; I had to go on the Sasquatch.

     We made our way over to where we started. While we were on our walk, we noticed that the sky changed a bit. It was a bit eerie at first, but then we realized that it was the clouds clearing up. The sky was turning back to its vibrant light blue. I was so caught off guard by the sky that I had forgotten about the seemingly impossible task of going on the Sasquatch.

     When we had arrived at the Sasquatch, my palms got sweaty and my knees started shaking. When we trudged into line, I had really started to feel the pressure. Slowly but surely we moved up in line until finally, it was our turn. We moved next to the ride and sat down in our seats. I noticed how deep the seats were and that I sank a little bit. I pulled down the large black safety harness. It felt squishy yet rough, like the cover of a bus seat. I buckled in the harness to the seat, but by now I was extremely panicked. I was so terrified that something inside of me snapped. I freaked out. I squirmed and twisted and even tried to get the attention of the ride’s operator, but she didn’t hear me. I tried again and again, but it was no use. The ride had started.

     Nathan told me to look straight ahead and to close my eyes. I could feel us drifting further up, and then there was no feeling, so I tilted my head up and opened my eyes. I saw the very top of the tower. I looked straight ahead and looked at the traffic in front of the park, and then I realized how high up we were at that moment. I felt I was at the top of the world, but not in a good way. At any second, the ride could drop us from one billion miles in the air.

      The ride hissed a booming hiss, and Nathan started counting. “Three, two, one.” Fwoosh! The ride dropped us. I tried to scream, but no sound came out. I only saw small images in rapid succession. Wind rushed past my face and feet; it was freezing cold. AND THEN, it was over. The breaks slowed it down, and we gently returned to the earth. I screamed, not from fear, not from pain, but from joy. I had conquered that Sasquatch.

     Once we got off, I was overjoyed with excitement. I was so very pleased with myself that with the help of others I had tried the second tallest ride at Six Flags: The Great Escape. Mom had given me the ten dollars we had agreed upon, and it was the most well-deserved ten dollars I had ever earned.

     All of that day, I was afraid to do things, but when I ended up doing them I really enjoyed them. Things could be scary at first, but if you try, it may not be as frightening as it may seem. Try: such a strong word. Dictionary.com defines the word “try” as “to attempt to do or accomplish,” but I believe that one small word is so much more.

-Ashton H. 

      Have you ever found yourself standing at the edge of an almost cliff-like decision, not yet willing to take a first step? I have throughout my life. Those kinds of decisions can be terrifying, wondering if and when you’ll manage to take that step off. However, even if they are scary, it’s important to learn just how necessary it can be to take that final step away. No matter how terrifying your decisions can feel, it’s important to overcome them to be able to pursue the future and dreams you want.

      Imagine a scene of pure calm, soft snow covered hills outlying a small town. Every house was decorated with a display of lights, blinking down on me and my friends. At that time, I was visiting my relatives for Christmas. The sharp sting of cold didn’t even bother me through all of my layers of clothing wrapped snugly around me, engulfing me in a constant warmth. The only thing the cold truly did was offer soft, powdery snowflakes sent to drift down at a steady rate. I was surrounded by an enchanting winter scene, and absolutely nothing could go wrong. Until, of course, it did. 

     One of these friends, Steven, was about eight years old, my sister's age. He was behind me in our line to sled. As the movement in the line progressed, yet another one of my friends climbed back up the hill. I could almost feel the excitement at the tip of my tongue. I patiently waited at the top of the hill, first in line, to have my turn. Finally, it was my time. I scooted forward in a not very elegant way, gliding down the hill in a flurry of snowflakes. It really was perfect. Basking in my glory as my sled came to a halt, I held myself tall before promptly deflating at the sight of the hill. Climbing up is hard, especially as a young child. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Steven mounting his sled, and I felt a surge of panic begin to spread throughout me. Would my mom stop him? I turned over to see my mom looking off in a different direction, blissfully unaware of my situation. I searched for some kind of exit, but there was no escape.

     Going up the hill was impossible. I was faced with a difficult decision. What could I even do? So, in an act of desperation, I raced towards a nearby tree that seemed out of harm's way, crouching safely behind it. “Safely” was not accurate, as this path was one that sleds would soon crash into. I closed my eyes and gripped the tree as if that would somehow deter Steven. In my mind I was still assuming I was safe from harm’s way, angled perfectly away from the route. I glimpsed Steven push off, wearing his usual giddy smile, closer, closer, closer-

     BOOM!

     My attempt to avoid Steven, absolutely, in every possible way, failed. Chaos erupted on the hill. I sat in shock, tears streaming down my face, unable to feel them. The blow barely registered inside my mind. It was only until I saw drops of crimson blood falling to the pristine snow and utterly staining it from below me that I began to panic. I could see Steven’s face; he looked like he was upset, crying, too, more than me. I decided he was dramatic. From my peripheral vision I saw both my mom and my friend’s mom running toward me. More confused than anything, I raised a hand to my face and finally felt the sear of pain slashing through my lower lip. Just my lower lip. The pain was delayed, allowing me to have a moment of disappointing silence and stillness, though I was at least able to comprehend what had happened in that moment; the sled had sliced through my lip but nowhere else. A surge of gratefulness for the situation presented itself to me, and I let that gratefulness surround and lead me to a slumber as I began to sink deeper in the snow.

     I sat up in a state of dreariness. Due to the amount of people now gathered around me, I inferred not long had passed since the hit, as my desired first-aid kit was also nowhere to be seen, so I laid there, unfocused but quite bothered. I caught wind of the moms bursting out of the house door on their way with the first aid kit. Everyone else continued to panic and scramble to get a first aid kit, and I just sat there, simmering in the disarray. I realized something, something truly fascinating; I realized everything, every instance leading to my current state, could have been avoided if I had just simply gone up the hill instead of giving up and resorting to what I had established, second best.

     I know this memory in particular left a mark in my current mindset, and I have to often remind myself to not let opportunities slip, out of fear or apprehension, but to take them. The story and memory I have presented is a perfect example of why you should do so as well. If I did not make my way back up that hill in time when I had the chance, I would have gotten hit by a sled. This still actually impacts me today, yes, in a notably good way (I have immaculate lips because of this exact incident). If the sled had shifted even slightly the whole situation could have turned out very differently.

     “You miss 100% of the opportunities you don’t take.” This quote has been used by multiple famous idols and celebrities, including Wayne Gretzky, Doja Cat, and Kim Kardashian. This quote practically traces the outline for the bigger lesson of opportunity; hence, when opportunity strikes, do not hesitate to take it. This simple prospect can be used throughout life. When an opportunity, big or small, is presented to you, it is important to utilize it. 

-Asha S. 

      Most of the time we speed through life like a race car, pushing aside the little things and setting our eyes on our enormous goals. Our brains have been so finely tuned to hurry that when life slows down we want to take it in a death grip and yank it forward again. Patience is an art, and humans suck at it. I am human, so therefore I also suck at it, and still do, but I am better at it after my mom’s birthday six years ago. Some of our experiences stick with us for some reason we might not know yet, and some blow straight out of our heads, just like the warm summer breeze the day I started baking. 

     Birthdays are celebrated lavishly in my house, always with the celebrant's choice of dessert. The other people in the house would rotate who made the dessert, and this year my grandma and I were the ones baking what my mom wanted every single year: strawberry shortcake. To my six year old self, this task came just short of taking over the world. “Why do I have to leave the butter for the biscuits in chunks?” I nervously asked my grandma, who was leveling off a cup of sugar with a butter knife.

     “As the butter melts, it makes the biscuits flaky,” she explained patiently, opening the bag of strawberries. I nodded in understanding. The dough hungrily sucked up the water as I poured it in, making the batter thicker and harder to mix. With effort I yanked the wooden spoon out of the dough and tentatively reached forward to lick it. 

     “No, no, no, don’t do that!” my grandma corrected, thumping over to me and carefully placing the spoon back into the metal bowl. 

     “But it looks so good!” I shouted, throwing my hands up in the air and accidentally splattering dough on the ceiling. 

     “Would you rather eat a handful of dough now or two biscuits later?” Grandma asked gently, pouring the strawberries into a pot. The dough sat there smugly, relinquishing in not being eaten. I narrowed my eyes at the dough, but I knew Grandma was right. The afternoon sunlight spilled through the open window in our kitchen, and a cool summer breeze wafted the smell of sauteing strawberries into my eager nostrils. It made me remember this morning when I had picked those very same strawberries from my garden, full of dirt and juiciness. I had wanted to eat the strawberries too and would have if they had not been encased in dirt. I dragged myself back to the present, where I had rolled and shaped the dough into a rough circle.

     Using a pastry cutter, I sliced the rolled out dough into biscuit shapes. I yearned to take a bite, but I abided by my grandma’s advice and didn’t. My grandma helped me slide them onto cookie trays and into the oven, where they would cook for ten whole minutes! How could I wait that long? My grandma must have noticed how crestfallen I was and asked me to help make the whipped cream. I resignedly grabbed the heavy whipping cream from the fridge and got to work.

     I was so immersed with the smooth, fluffy, whipped cream that I didn’t even notice my grandma taking the biscuits out of the oven, carefully avoiding the steam that rose from the golden pieces of art. Grandma set them down on a wooden cutting board and stepped back to admire our work. Eyes brightening, hands trembling with excitement, I sank my teeth into the soft, flaky biscuits. They were delicious and melted in my mouth like butter on a hot pan. I still wondered what the dough had tasted like, but it never could have tasted as good as this.

     That was my first experience baking, but it definitely wasn’t my last, and through all of them I learned until I didn’t even think about eating any dough ever again. Sometimes, like in baking biscuits, all you have to do is have patience and accept that things can happen in a different order than you had in mind.

-Aileana E.