Read Chicken Soup for the Teenage Soul II Online

Authors: Jack Canfield,Mark Victor Hansen,Kimberly Kirberger

Chicken Soup for the Teenage Soul II (53 page)

 

Page 323
well in my eyes. The girl in the photograph and I had been best friends for nearly two years when a sudden disagreement planted a rift in our friendship that still had not been mended. It saddened me beyond measure that an argument could put so much distance between such close friends.
The pencil now moved fluidly across the paper.
When I again looked up, I happened to glance at the varsity
A
I had received for completing cross-country season. Memories now rolled through my mind and flooded my brain: remembrances of long, loud bus rides; water fights with our archrival; memorable trips to various fast-food eateries after the races; the stinging words of many arguments; the tinkling giggles of many laughs gone by.
Again, the lead scraped the clean white paper.
As I went to bed that night, my homework assignment still incomplete, I ran over in my mind what I had written so far. Fitful dreams revealed new stories and thoughts to be explored.
In my dreams, I remembered when my family moved to the beachtearful good-byes rang in my ears. I reexperienced the velvety voice of my former crush during our first phone conversation, which was a major breakthrough, even though it only lasted five minutes. I remembered how excited I felt after that conversationI drifted on cloud nine. I relived how happy and proud I felt walking across the Albemarle High School stage to receive my varsity
A
. Even in my sleep, a lone tear's salty track burned my cheek: Albemarle, my life in the past and also now, beginning anew.
I awoke early the next morning to finish my essay. When it was complete it read as follows:
When you asked us to write about the meaning of life in a five-paragraph essay, Mr. Neal, I wondered how I would ever fill so much empty space. I sat thinking it over for nearly an hour before I even knew how to begin. When I began to write, however, the problem became not how to fill the space, but how to make use of what little I had.
There is so much more to life than cross-country

 

Page 324
meets, soccer games, and the transformation from middle-schooler to high-schooler. What matters most is what you make of your life. If how you feel from day-to-day is based upon what others think and how they judge you, then your life has no basis. If you are a person who wakes up in the morning and dreads the day ahead, then your life has no meaning.
However, if you wake up every morning eager to start the new day, then your life has meaning, for it has a purpose. My life certainly has a purpose. Every day is a struggle to survive: building new friendships, fixing old ones, learning how to deal with complicated emotions and accepting new surroundings. I find that every day is a journey of finding out who and what you are.
I believe that the question ''what is the meaning of life" is too broad. I don't think that anyone will ever truly discover the exact reason why we were put here and what we must do now that we are here. Personally, I do not care to discover the reason. I prefer to leave each day to its own devices.
Every day is an adventure in discovering the meaning of life. It is each little thing that you do that daywhether it be spending time with Your friends, running in a cross-country race or just simply staring at the crashing oceanthat holds the key to discovering the meaning of life. I would rather be out enjoying these simple things than pondering them. We may never really discover the meaning of life, but the knowledge we gain in our quest to discover it is truly more valuable.
My hand ached and my pencil was but a stub, by my essay was finished. I had discovered many things while writing this essay, although maybe not the exact meaning of life.
I don't need to find that out yet
, I thought, smiling.
I have things to do along the way
.
My notebook page, as well as my mind, was no longer blank.
Jenni Norman

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