College Essay- CRITIQUE DRAFT

Topic: A person who created an impact on your life.

The saying, you never know what you have until it's gone, does not apply to me in this situation. I knew Uncle Ben was something more the first time I had met him. Uncle Ben was my mom's friend. Before I was born, my mom had been working at a bowling alley/diner in our home town, Kapiolani Coffee Shop. Uncle Ben was her main customer. He came in everyday with a worn out shirt, denim pants, and old broken-down sneakers. The only thing new he brought in to the diner was a story. And whenever one of the waitresses needed help, Uncle Ben was the first to step in.

Uncle Ben was an entrepreneur, carpenter, and a retired U.S. soldier. He is the most knowledgable man I will ever know. Uncle Ben actually built a portion of the house I live in. Honestly, I don't know where to start about Uncle Ben. The most memorable thing about Uncle Ben was his voice. Uncle Ben spoke with a warm, deep, and soothing melody. "Hi bebeh, how was your day." "What ever you need, put it into prayer." "It's not luck, it's a blessing." "Take one day at a time." Uncle Ben was a Filipino-Portuguese man with a sad life, but a optimistic personality. He saw the beauty in everything. Uncle Ben had four kids. His wife had actually left him, leaving the children motherless. He had taken care of all of them, with a little help from his mother, Isabelle.

I had known Uncle Ben ever since I was one year old. Since then, Uncle Ben has been taking care of me, along with my younger sister and two cousins. Whenever we had no ride home from school, Uncle Ben picked us up in his green "junk-a-lunk and no air conditioning system" car. Every time he picked us up from school, there would always be a white plastic bag that contained a variety of chips. Each person got one bag. And when he didn't have anything to give, he would drive us to the nearest goodie store and buy us snacks.

When we would reach home, he would stay with my cousins, sister, and I for a while, working around our house. Then when my parents would come home from work, we would all eat a big dinner including my grandparents and my friend, Czarina, and her family. Let me tell you, Uncle Ben was the life of the party. His stories seemed to come to life every time he told one. When he noticed it was getting late he would always say, "Okay folks, I have to go home now. I have to feed my children". My mom had asked me," Guess how many children he has?" Not knowing the answer, I asked Uncle Ben. He simply replied, "100. All roosters and chicken." I learned from that moment that Uncle Ben also had a farm. On weekend mornings, I would wake up to check the washing machine and drier if they were finished doing the clothes. And on those mornings, I would find two full boxes of pastries. "Ope....Uncle Ben was here".

Besides being a great provider of food, and other services, Uncle Ben was a great listener. He would always ask me what I wanted be when I am older. "Hmmmm....I want to be a journalist, or a lawyer, or a doctor! I really would love to work of New York Times one day." Uncle Ben had shared a story about how he used to always throw his homework at the bottom of his house. Then one day as his mom was cleaning the bottom area, she had found all of his work. Boy oh boy did he get it from his mom. Uncle Ben told me to never give up. He had said to continue my education, and soon enough I'll be successful. Sure everyone gets this talk from their parents, but it really meant much more for me when Uncle Ben had said it.

Years had passed, and Uncle Ben was still taking care of us. I remember asking him, "Uncle Ben are you an angel?" All he did every time I had asked this question, was smile. I never did get an answer.

By the time I was 14, Uncle Ben was still there for us. It only took a week. My family and I were invited to the hospital. There Uncle Ben was, laughing and sharing more stories, only this time it was with his entire family, plus the Kapiolani Coffee Shop family. That night he had asked me, "Isabelle, do you still want to be a journalist?" I had said, "Yes Uncle Ben, and so many other things." He replied,"Just don't give up. Keep on going". I couldn't say anything because I would burst out into tears. So I simply nodded.

Uncle Ben had called my mom the following morning asking her to come that night. And so she brought all of us with her. Uncle Ben did not make it that very night. And the rest is too painful for me to write.

On Uncle Ben's funeral service, I had been asked to speak on behalf of my family, and the Kapiolani Coffee Shop family. His favorite rooster was also at the service. The funny thing was that every time someone would speak, the rooster would seem to reply with the crowd towards something humorous. The amazing thing was the number of people that came that night. Uncle Ben had helped so many people in all of his years he was alive.

By the time I had went up, I was already in tears. Though I did share some laughs with the people when I had shared how embarrassing it was to be picked up in his "junk-a-lunk" car, in front of private school kids. I had shared the memory when I had asked Uncle Ben if he was an Angel. "I know now that Uncle Ben did not have to say anything. I already knew. It wasn't till today that I had realized that Uncle Ben is an ANGEL. Uncle Ben left a last gift with us. That gift is a part of him, that will forever will remain right here, in our hearts."