Sunday, January 9, 2011

Essay

Here is an essay I wrote. Totally profound enough and well, bloggish enough to put on here. Look just below at my last blog and you will find the real reason I am putting it on here. A sequel really.
(honors book report.)

Losing a Friend


The people whom you love the most often times take the greatest exit or, maybe it just seems to you as the greatest exit because of their great presence in your life. We all have people who leave us, either forever or just temporarily. Recently like Greit, the main character in Girl With A Pearl Earring, who moved out into the world, my sister did also.

Greit left her sister Agnes, who was also her best friend behind. Though the change could have been temporary and she did not think that she would be leaving her forever, she indeed did. When you leave the protection of your home you leave it forever, stepping out of one world and entering another. The end of the book holds a beautiful paragraph from Greit’s point of view; “When we were children Frans and Agnes and I would throw stones to shatter the thin ice until every sliver had disappeared under the water. It seemed like a long time ago.” She said this after seeing something that triggered a memory. It is comforting to me to think that she still thought about and missed what once was.

Ironically, the same as Greit, my sister left at the first of the week and we didn’t hear from her until the following Sunday. The book said, “Only thieves and children run. And I ran the whole way home.” I inferred that she thought herself to be still a child and ready to come home. But, as I have said before, this was not her home anymore. And though she was indeed ready for a visit, she was no longer a child. She came back more as an adult. In just that one week so much had changed about her. My sister came back the same way. Ready for a visit, but no longer to her home. She came back different. The air about her was stronger and seemed to hold more wisdom than it had when she left. She seemed my superior now, where before we had always been equals. She was still my best friend but there was something that would never be the same between us.

Agnes walked Greit to the edge of town to be able to have a private moment. Their conversation was quiet and is where my favorite quote is found:

When we were alone, I asked her how she was. “Lonely,” she replied, a sad word from a young girl. She had been lively all day but had now grown subdued.

“I’ll come back every Sunday,” I promised. “And perhaps during the week I can come quickly say hello after I’ve gone for the meat or fish.”

“Or I can come and see you when you are out buying things,” she suggested, brightening.

We did manage to meet in the meat hall several times. I was always glad to see her – as long as I was alone. (45)

At the end of my sisters Sunday visit, I walked outside with her to her car. She also asked me how I was, and without realizing until now of how much we copied the above conversation, I said one word. “Lonely”. She then promised me that she would come back every Sunday to see me. She then reminded me that in just a few months time I would be sixteen and driving and it would be much easier for us to see each other during the week. This brightened my mood also. All I can do now is hope that she still is happy to see me every time we meet.

At one point in the book Agnes becomes very sick and ends up dying. This was tragic to me. Greit mentions how nothing would ever be the same in the house where she once lived because Agnes is now gone. She constantly remembers the memories she and her little sister shared. She grieves over the treasure she has lost. Now I have not yet died, nor do I plan to. The only thing that I can see dying is the future memories that I want to have with my sister, as did Greit with Agnes. I hope that will never happen, and Tracy Chevaliers words made me realize that harsh reality of losing something that is so precious like this.

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