I am working on this essay for 2 days....this is the fianl draft, just wanna share with you guys!
P.S. This is a 98% true story! I just make up those 2 % because it would be too long for this essay to include all those complicated events......
A Story of Coincidence
I was assigned to read the article “A View from the Bridge” in my English-Writing 1A class. This is the first homework assignment I had from this class. Since I didn’t do well in my classes last quarter, I was still in a discouraged mood. I wasn’t ready for the new quarter yet, and thus including the assignments of the class. I thought I would just scan through the essay and finish the summary in an apathy way. However, what seems to be true is not always the truth. The fact is, I got attached to the story right after I read through the second paragraph, and at the end, my feeling of resonance with that essay is so strong that I have numerous ideas to put in my summary. This is really an astonishing ending for me.
One of the lessons of the essay “A View from the Bridge” is that things are not always as they first appear. I already learnt this when I was younger. I am a music- enthusiast. I started to learn piano before I know how to do multiplication in Maths, and I also know how to play various string instruments. However, I used to think that I am not talented. I knew many friends who are so gifted when I was a member of a youth orchestra, and I thought I could only admire them, and never be in the same level as they do. I participated in the performances and competitions they were participating, but I was always a failure. I thought perhaps I was not hardworking enough. Then, I worked very hard, spending all of my leisure time in practicing, but I lost again. I was hopeless at the time. I thought I’d better give up. Meanwhile, my music theory teacher knew what was happening from the beginning. She introduced her friend to me, who was from the Conservatory of Vienna. I decided to try to learn from a new teacher then. Everything changed since. I realized how innocent I was about music before. How could I possibly perform a piece well if I don’t understand the music itself? Music is an art; it’s not a sport. It needs something more than hard work. I thought it would be fine if I only practice a lot, but I never thought of it’s meaning. I lost my imagination and feelings about it already. Musician is not the same as a technician. Every melody has it’s meaning. The composer tells something through his composition, just like a writer. The difference is that one uses music and one uses words. From my beloved new teacher, I learn what I needed and I know the reasons why I lost before. The following year, I won the most honorable prize among the youngsters in piano solo performance. The people who knew that I was not a good player didn’t believe this could happen. It was after many other competitions and performances that my ability is being acknowledged. I became an active member in numerous music activities, performances, competitions, etc, and I had the chance to be exposed to many precious opportunities in learning music. I found my confidence in music, and I am proud of it until now.
My piano teacher inspired me a lot. “You do not need to be a genius to do what you love. When there’s a will, there’s a way. You’ve already possessed the most important thing – a heart for music. It’s your determination that keeps you attained so far. Go for your dream if you know you really want to do so, and be brave always.” My teacher always encourages me when I doubt myself, and she makes me find the beauty of my own nature. She played the role of a bridge, leading me to view myself differently. I started to appreciate the beauty of every little thing, and I know I shouldn’t take everything for granted. The blind boy didn’t lose his own hopes because of his disabilities. He even sees better than the author does. Though he couldn’t use his eyes to see, he still has his imagination, his heart, and his endurance. I think these are really one’s treasures. The world would be so tedious without imagination and love, and most of all, hopes. That’s what we need in order to perform a piece of music, to write an essay, to appreciate others, and to live.
The author helped the boy to imagine how the fish looks like, and he himself also found something out of his meeting with this boy. I want to explore music, and music helps me to explore myself as a return. If the author just goes away after helping the boy to find the shrimp, he would not find such a wonderful story to tell. If I gave up when I lost in the competition before, how could I win all those superb competitions afterwards? Life is a story of coincidence; it is always full of surprising discoveries, and there is new lesson for one to learn every moment, but no one knows when. That’s why we should always be prepared. This is what the author in the essay “A View from the Bridge” wants to share with us. As for the blind boy, my inspiration from him is that there are always enough odds for us to be on our feet again. Misfortune is not always as bad as it seems, and vice versa. One should never lose hope just because of the pretense of those so-called ‘facts’. Finally, it’s always a nice idea for me to end this essay with hopes, just like how the author ended his story with new hopes for himself and for the boy on the bridge.
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