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Rate This Contest Entry: Contest: June 30th, 2005 Author: Lanae Bradford He was huggable, a kind of teddy bear that lent support on a sad day. His smile was the sun that broke through the dark ominous clouds above. He was an angel on earth, a giver and a fighter. His acts of kindness were not just about opening doors for me, or throwing his coat down over a puddle of mud for me to walk over. It was about the kindness that came from the bottom of his heart. It was about his unselfish behavior, his loving personality and his determination in making the world safer, even if it meant disregarding his own safety. It was about a sacrifice; one that was so insignificant at the time that it did not even claim its value until the day I learned of his fate. This priceless moment happened on an afternoon in Spanish class, the only class we shared our sophomore year. I knew, of course, that Matthew was a part of the football team and had always been very competitive when it came to sports; what boy or man isn’t? To this day I know that’s why he enjoyed that class so very much. It was a competition everyday: who could be the best Spanish speaker in the class? Our teacher would have us all review for a test by playing games. Usually these games were board races in which the class would be divided into two teams and a person from each time would go up to the board, one at a time, and compete to earn extra credit points. The game worked like this, whoever wrote the given word correctly first got the point. At the end of the game whichever team had the most points, won. On this particular day the two teams were close in points. It was my turn and my opponent was Matthew. I knew the moment we both stood up that I was going to lose. Matthew had an supernatural talent when it came to schoolwork, and Spanish was no exception. Needless to say I lost, and now my team had fallen behind in points. As I walked back to my seat, my teammates began to ridicule me calling me stupid and a number other unrepeatable things. For a person with a low self-esteem anyway, this was devastating. After all I had spent the better part of my high school career, thus far, trying to make everyone like me. I wanted to be popular and I wanted a million friends. When I realized I had let them down, I felt ashamed and worthless. Although I didn’t know it, Matthew saw the whole thing, noticing how upset I had become, and felt bad about the way I was being treated. He often told me how sad it made him to see people treat others so horribly. “I don’t understand how people can be so cruel,” he said, “Just to feel better about themselves. To me there is nothing worse than a cocky bully.” As I slouched down in my desk, all I could do was sit and hope that class time would run out so I would not have to face that humiliation again in round two. I just wanted to go home! It was my last class of the day and in ten minutes I would be free. Unfortunately there was plenty of time for round two. When it came to be our turn again I was so scared because I knew I would lose and that once again my teammates would ridicule me. As Matthew and I waited for the word, I looked at him and he smiled reassuringly. When the teacher gave us the word we both turned and I started to write. I was glad that I knew the word this time, but now the problem was writing faster than the speed demon beside me. As I glanced over at Matthew; I found that he was just standing there with his chalk leaning lifelessly against the chalkboard! He held his finger against his chin, pretending to think about what the answer could be with a grin spread across his face. I knew he had to know the answer, he knew all the answers. But I took the opportunity and began to scribble the word out furiously. When I finished writing I turned and was granted the points. A wave of relief washed over me as I realized that now I wouldn’t be ridiculed, but would be praised because this round gave us the lead and the win. Matthew gave up so much for me that afternoon. He showed me that there are kind people out there; people I hope I can find again someday. I knew that he got ridiculed himself for losing the game from his friends. After class I followed him out into the hall and grabbed his shoulder, stopping him before he got too far ahead of me. “Why did you do that?” I asked. He shrugged his shoulders and smiled sweetly, “I just wanted you to know that not everyone in this world is a jerk, that the only thing that truly survives in this world is love. And I think we should start to learn how to hold onto that.” On April 20, 1999, the community of Littleton Colorado was brought to its knees and I know that because of the experiences I endured at Columbine High School, I will never be the same. Matthew’s name is famous now; everyone remembers him as the kind and compassionate boy that he was. I still look for him everywhere I go. I suppose a part of me thinks he will come back someday and then everything will be fine again. The devastating look on his families’ faces and the shock on mine will go away. I will be able to hug him again, to feel the teddy bear hugs I miss so very much. It is only a wish, one that no shooting star could ever make come true. He was wise beyond his years and like an all too familiar saying goes, “Dusk sets early for spirits who soar” as it is engraved in the bottom of his headstone. I wish the world could have met Matthew under different circumstances, and could have known him the way I did. I wish they could have seen him through my eyes. He was the poster child for what the human race should be and I hope people can still see that. I realize that even though his act of kindness was meaningful to me, it became even more meaningful after I found out that he was gone. It’s only memory now, but it’s a memory with a legacy, its up to me to pass on his words. It can be the simplest act of kindness to change the world. A smile in the hallway…compliment on the new hairdo or outfit…hold the door open for others… a hug when someone’s crying…or even listening to a story that someone is just dying to tell. Donating time to a retirement home…working the afternoon in a food kitchen, or cleaning the entire house for your mom on her birthday…helping your younger sibling with his or her homework, putting aside your own. Donating a portion of your paycheck to a charity…helping that freshmen pick his spilled books up from the floor. He is gone because evil stole his breath. But he is only physically gone. His spirit lives and so will his words. His soul lives on through the memory of that sacrifice because even though it was insignificant at the time, it forever changed me and later on showed me what chivalry and sacrifice truly means. He gave his life for the safety of others, and he was the most chivalrous man I have ever known. people have rated it so far. is the current average. |
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