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"i wish i could eat your cancer when you turn black.-kurt cobain" - Acteleleaflndo

Springtime and Growth

  • Date Submitted: 06/26/2011 09:44 AM
  • Flesch-Kincaid Score: 74.6 
  • Words: 496
  • Essay Grade: no grades
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Spring is a special time of year, a time of our earth’s awakening from its long winter’s sleep, a time of reemergence, renewal, and rebirth. Crocuses poke through the melting snow, tulips bend under new fallen snow then stand tall as the warming sun makes quick work of their moisture laden burden. Lustrous apple trees abloom, redbuds stand in purple pink glory, cherry trees burst forth into flower like popcorn, the sweet smell of the lilac tantalizes, birds busily attend their nests, bees flit from flower to flower collecting sweet nectar. Newborn calves and fawns frolic in the grass. It is a time of yellow green blush as trees tentatively poke forth their new leaves wary of a brief return to the cold of winter. It is a time of bright colorful dresses and audacious bonnets bedecked with ribbons and bows. Yes, spring is a season of wondrous renewal. But spring can also be a time of destruction; of earthquakes, tsunamis, tornadoes, floods, and raging fires that make us wonder at nature’s awesome power.
Celebrations of spring are universal. The Norse “Eosteur”, from which Easter is derived, celebrates “the season of the rising sun” and pays tribute to its triumph over the bleakness of winter. What would spring be without this contrast? Might we fail to notice, to marvel at spring’s beauty? Life with its contrasts gives our existence more meaning. There is little more beautiful than the crystal clear dawn of a new day washed by the grey rain of yesterday.
We are gathered here to celebrate the accomplishments of our year and to energize ourselves as we look to our new year. We work to make life better for those who have little and yearn for more. We must focus on our promise to serve others rather than the voices within that say, “We can’t”. Let me close with the challenge in this poem by an unknown author
There once was an oyster whose story I tell,
Who found that some sand got under his shell,
Just one little grain but it gave him a...


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