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“Jewels.”

Not diamonds or rubies, but my name, written out in sloppy, childish hand writing, with a backwards “J” and funny looking “E’s”. It was written in pencil on a white sheet of computer paper. Similar “Jewels’s” were written out on the same paper, scattered in different places, but all below one particular “Jewels”, written out in neat hand writing- hand writing that I now know without so much as a second glance. “Jewels”- the first word I ever wrote, or, at least, remember writing.

I was three or four years old. I remember I was living in what I call “The Green House,” due to the dark, hunter green exterior. I was in the kitchen sitting in what was like a booth at a restaurant and my mom was sitting on my right. In front of us was the table and beyond that was the refrigerator up against the wall. To the left of the refrigerator was the stove that led into a corner counter piece. That was attached to more counter and then to the sink, ending the line with even more counter. Mirrored to this line, attached to the ceiling, were brown cabinets. The floors were a white tile; I particularly remember that floor because when I was four, I was spinning like a ballerina and fell, resulting in a busted chin. To the left of the kitchen was the dining room and to the right was the front living room.

Scattered on the table in front of my mother and I, were lots of white computer paper and pencils. I remember my mom writing, “Jewels” so neatly across the top of the paper, saying each letter as she wrote it. And that’s when I witnessed the most important word- the most meaningful word- that I could’ve ever learned. My name. Because without your name, without knowing it and how to write it, how could you possibly be… well… you? How could you be someone unique, someone different- original- if you can’t put a title on it, on yourself? How would you be able to graduate from high school- from college- without your name? How would you get through life at all?

The most meaningful word I’ve ever seen, that I’ve ever heard, that I’ve ever written was my name- in that particular time, that one moment when my pudgy, little hand spelled out those six meaningless letters that together formed something great-something unique- for the first time.



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Baby_Rav said...
Aug. 2, 2013 at 11:13 am
I like the idea you have about how a name is unique and only your's. 
 
IlovemeThis teenager is a 'regular' and has contributed a lot of work, comments and/or forum posts, and has received many votes and high ratings over a long period of time. This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. replied...
Aug. 2, 2013 at 12:23 pm
What's in a name, said shakespeare. pressing question ever since :)
 
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