Prejudice in America. How being different is better than being the same and how sick america has come.

Essay by ryanf77High School, 10th gradeA+, June 2002

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The day could not have been nicer. Not one cloud in the sky. Just the big, blazing ball of

fire which shined brightly all day long, making the water glisten and sparkle.

As I walked through the park, I took a minute to stand on the shore of the lake to admire

the loveliness of the day. Looking into the water, reflections of surrounding trees bounced off

into my eyes. Then appearing in the corner of my left eye, I noticed a beautiful young girl,

sitting alone under a tree, too, staring into the water.

It was that particular day in which I met the lady of my life. I approached her, sitting

under the tree, and carried a day long conversation with her until the sun began to set. As it

started getting dark, we parted, agreeing to meet at the same place the next day.

Out the door I went around 7:00 A.M.,

returning to the park. As I approached the tree,

there she was. The grin on my face reached from one ear to the other. Again we sat together all

day in the park, talking, playing, swimming, and just laying together under our tree, shading us

from the hot, bright sun.

This routine lasted for the next few weeks, spending every minute possible together. One

day she came to me and announced that she was carrying my baby. I could not have been more

happy, until I realized there was slight problem. I would not be able to be with them all of the

time. I still lived with my parents and they were yet to find out about me being a father. We

continued our relationship throughout her pregnancy, solving our problems so we could be

together. We were to wait until the baby arrived...