Growing Grass: A Surviving Warrior

        

Growing Grass in Between Bricks

Pain equals life. A newborn's first cry indicates that it is alive. And from that moment, pain becomes a paradox. Just as a newborn cries to begin a life, we, too, feel pain in order for us to know that we are still alive—and surviving; and surviving can be compared to a growing grass in between bricks were a person, they would be the strongest — small, overlooked, but unstoppable. You’d find them not in the spotlight, but in the cracks of life, where most have given up. Yet there they are — thriving, surviving, and desperate to live. 

        Why growing grass? Growing grass symbolises me. I am that one, the one that even when life has putted burdens and challenges, which is the bricks, that may hinder my growth, I always emdure it, find a way to grow, find where I truly belong, stand up, brace my surroundings, and let my voice out. Ever since I can remember I always compare myself to a growing grass in between bricks where I grow silently, slowly, and patiently. You might not notice me, but you'll realize that I've been there all along pushing through the cracks in order to survive. 

        I don't live in a luxurious life, I came from a simple and caring family. We aren't imperfect, I admit, and when in harsh conditions, I maybe tampled but I would surely raise again and take everything as a lesson. At school, I always do my best. Although most of the time, I face different kinds of uncertainty but that isn't enough for me to give up. No obstacle, not stone, nor shadow — can stop me from reaching what I truly longed and hard earned for. Compared to a grass in between bricks that even in the narrowest part exists, I see possibilities where others might see endings. Because I believe that the world is infinite, and there are limitless possibilities around it. 

        One day, as I was scrolling through my cellular phone, i came across a video of a dying new born baby and i suddenly remembered when my mother shared to me that she had miscarriage with my supposed to be older sibling, and ever since that happened I've had that eagerness to become a doctor and that someday, I want to become a successful OB-GYN who'll make sure that she'll try her best to save as many baby as she can and that no mother within her hands will ever experience the pain of being left by an offspring you've carried for nine months. 

        Like grass that rises through cracks or in between bricks, I, too, will not only rise—but strive. Quietly, constantly, and with purpose. One day, I'll stand not only as someone who survived, but as someone who's a key for a new life to be in this world.