Growing up, I always wanted to become a mother and raise a family of children along with a Godfearing husband. At nearly eighteen, this is still my dream. I attend a CREC church, am a member in good standing, and I plan, Lord willing, to attend New Saint Andrews College in Moscow, Idaho. I am not yet a mother and I am not and will never be affiliated with the organization known as the "LGBTQIA+" community. I believe that everything they stand for is sinful. They are simply a way of justifying the way that our civilization is falling into depravity. We, the United States of America, are the modern world's Sodom and Gomorrah. The LGBTQIA+ community has even taken the very symbol of God's love, the rainbow by which He swore that He would never destroy the world by flood again, and made it into a perverted justification of their wrongdoings. Yet through all these things, they are not content. They attack Christians and turn their desire for equality into a bullying of men and those with skin like mine: white. They call us the cruel ones, the intolerants, but some of us have gone so far out of our ways to accept this community into ourselves that they have become alien to us and may no longer be called by the name of Christian. This community of wrong-doers are taking revenge on us, whom they bitterly see to be content in our own lives, because they cannot find contentment in their own sin. Then they go even farther. Most of these sorry people belong to the Democrat side of politics, but they exalt minorities far above their justified place. No matter their skin color, sex, race, or otherwise, no human should have access to specialized privileges (or scholarships, for that matter), because they are part of a minority group. I am arguing for a very democratic concept. Everyone should have access to equal opportunities. The LGBTQIA+ community and the Democrat community are essentially giving the minority the say in government that the majority should have. That is not democracy. I may only have been through high school. I may be an ignorant homeschooler. I may be a sheltered girl. I may be a Christian. But I do know enough about government to say that what the LGBTQIA+ community and Democrat political party are promoting is not democracy. I know enough to confidently say that these groups are living by blatant double standards. I can also say that I know exactly where all those sinners are going when they depart from this world. God does love them, but God is also just, and those who hate Him will not long remain in His presence. I am a passionate Christian and a passionate learner. I am not yet married, and I will never be part of the so-called Democrat community and the LGBTQIA+ group, but I applied to this scholarship hoping that those who are giving it out would read this condemnation of the way they have lived or the way of life they are condoning. Those reading this essay can glance over my other application essays for a kinder testimony to the love of God and His willingness to bring them into His Heaven, but they will not find it here. Heaven exists, but so does Hell, and today I proclaim the latter. Turn and be saved. To the others who applied to this scholarship and to those who are willingly condoning these sinners by funding their education in more sin: may God have mercy on your souls.

After I graduated high school, I spent a miserable month resigning myself to the fact that the lifelong friends I'd found in my classmates would all be moving on without me. I would no longer be part of their lives and they would no longer be part of mine. I found myself desperately praying to God to give me guidance. And as He had promised in His word, He did not fail me. I woke up one June morning with a firm conviction that it was God's will that I would apply to New Saint Andrews college. Over the following months, I proceeded to do that, assisted and encouraged by my parents. I was further assured of God's blessing upon this endeavor by the fact that my parents were so supportive of me. Sometimes they'd neglected to encourage ideas that I'd had, probably knowing that they would not be a good vein for me to pursue, but in this case I could not have asked for them to be more encouraging. To be honest, by the time I was a high school graduate, I thought I would never go to college. I doubted myself and my abilities. "It's too expensive." "It's not worth it." "You won't do well." But God showed me otherwise. I was second in my class. I am taking a gap year and working a full-time job along with a small janitorial side hustle. While I'm working, I'm also applying for as many scholarships as I can and praying that I will be able to receive enough to cover my tuition. It is my goal to not have to go into debt for college. While the money I earn working should be enough to cover one or two years at New Saint Andrews (NSA), I will be scrimping in order to make it last any longer. Any scholarship I receive will be an immeasurable blessing. I have always known that if I was to attend college, it would be at New Saint Andrews. The question was not where, but if. Once the if was decided, my mind rested much easier. NSA would help me in any one of my dreams. One of the greatest dreams I have is to be an author. I have recently started a book that I think shows great promise. If you're interested, you can view the ideas I'm slowly bringing to life on Youtube with the username @GHallelujah. It's a slow process, but a promising one. NSA will hone my worldview and writing into a keen double-edged sword with which to slay the monsters that stand in the way of my authorship. I want to write for the glory of God and bring people closer to Him through my writing. To summarize, going to NSA means more than the world to me. It is the pathway to friendship, a honed worldview, and good writing through which I can (figuratively) conquer the world. Through my studies at NSA, I plan to accomplish my goals of becoming a writer. Again, even while working full-time and taking a gap year, it is difficult to earn sufficient funds for the sum of my college years. I have applied to over ninety scholarships (nearly eighty on this site alone) and have not yet received one. Any support that you can give me will be greatly appreciated. Thank you for your consideration of my application.

My parents raised me up in Christianity. They impressed a standard of Christian truthfulness and hard work into my life. Those values are ingrained deeply into my heart and soul and conscience. With those values and a gift for academics, I naturally embraced a rigorous academic life. I felt as if I had failed if I performed less than perfectly. Though I definitely did not score one hundred percent of every exam, I graduated high school with a perfect 4.0 GPA and a 1360 SAT score, which was the highest out of my class (with the exception of one student who scored equally to me). Despite being necessarily absent during half of my tenth grade year and a month of my senior year due to my youngest sister's medical issues (her kidneys failed a day after birth and caused a lifetime of intense medical issues), I graduated with honor from our school. I was a year ahead and the youngest in my class by five months. I dream of attending New Saint Andrews College (NSA), completing a Bachelor's degree, and then going on to become a teacher, or perhaps in my wildest dreams, an author and the owner of a bookstore. My relatively high SAT score is a great comfort to me as I wait to hear back from NSA about my acceptance, but I know the college focuses on character as well as my SAT score. I hope my strong Christian faith will shine through to the board of admissions. Being accepted to the college is only part of the battle I will have to fight for the next five years. The main part of the battle is the tuition fees at NSA. At 18,000 a year plus a lock fee of 2,500, with a projected yearly 4,000 for room and board, and no scholarships available for students who have taken a gap year like me, I am faced with a hefty sum indeed. Though I'm working a full-time job throughout my gap year, I'm likely only going to be able to afford two years of college without going into debt. That is where scholarships like this one come into play. I do plan to work a part-time job during my time at NSA, but earning this scholarship would free up some of my time that could be used to study or participate in one of the sports offered by NSA. If anyone is wondering, it is my hope to participate in the rowing team. I've wanted to do it ever since I read The Boys in the Boat and discovered that NSA offered a co-ed rowing program. Each of my dreams will bless those around me. Through teaching, I will guide young children to the lantern of learning that will shed light on their own dreams. Through writing, I will give my own dreams of fantasy back to the world that surrounds me. I always loved to read as a child, but now I will be giving instead of only taking from the bookish community. The same goes for my dream of a bookstore. The bookstore in our town has become a destitute and sinful environment. I want to open one that isn't twisted and evil so that the children of our community may read healthy books in a space that isn't spitting its garbage into their minds. Thank you for your consideration of my application to the Dr. C.L. Gupta Young Scholars Award scholarship. I would be greatly honored and blessed to be the recipient.

Words matter. When God divided the peoples at the tower of Babel, why do you think he chose to confound the languages? Words and language will ultimately always be the unifying method of communication. We must choose to use them wisely. When people choose to dirty language with curses against God's name and misuse words, it always feels wrong. Of course there are proper uses of such words, such as in Lewis's That Hideous Strength when Mark, commanded to deface an image of Jesus, very accurately says "I'll be damned if I do!" But in ordinary, everyday talk, there is no call for such harsh words. On the other hand, vulgar words that heard in today's popular music and around public schools are not appropriate in any circumstance that comes readily to mind. Since our God has given us the beautiful expression of ourselves that is language, we ought to take it seriously and never use it lightly. My dream is to become a writer. Books impact us more than we realize. What we read and what we don't read will always shape us in one way or another. I blame the fact that I am a hopeless romantic stuck in a fantasy world on the fact that I read Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings when I was five years old and have continued reading it consistently throughout my life. Perhaps my love of words I should blame on Tolkien as well. I have not received a huge amount of support for my dream, and it must be admitted that I need some improvement in the area, but this is why I hope to attend New Saint Andrews College. Each of the classes I will take there will hone my worldview and writing. My writing is a slow-blooming flower that may seem drab for a long time, but is truly glorious when it opens. Can you remember a book you read as a child? Maybe, like me, it was The Lord of the Rings. Maybe it was a Dr. Seuss picture book or one of the Hardy Boys books. If you are a reader of more recent generations, it might be Harry Potter. Whatever it was, you remember it fondly. Whether you realize it or not, that book impacted how you grew up. You thought of other things in terms of it. Today, few who are frequent readers. My mission is to bring back reading by writing. I want my children and the children of the next generations to experience the joy of reading. An illiterate nation will never be great. Leaders are readers. Those friends of mine whom I had growing up who did not love to read, with all love and respect to them, were at the bottom of our class. That should not be the case; children should love reading. Thank you for your consideration of my essay. I would greatly appreciate any support you could offer me as I begin my journey towards my dreams.

The struggle with mental health is not a rare thing. Every woman can tell you of a time when she despaired. If you pushed it a little, the men could too. We act like depression is an illness that cannot really be battled. We try to push it away with pills and happy mantras that only drive the sickness and feeling of aloneness deeper inside, rooting it in one's soul. Can you feel that emptiness in yourself? The gigantic hole? Don't you wish you could fill it? You try and try and try, but always fail. What if I told you that there was a Man that could fill that void? What if I told you that he would pour beauty, light, and joy into you until you overflowed with it? His name is God the Father, and He loves you like His child, because you are. His name is Jesus Christ, and He died for you so that you might enter His heaven. His name is the Holy Spirit, and He is omnipotent and omniscient. I am a Christian. Trust me, we are not immune to the illness of depression. I have felt it many times, creeping, trying to eat its way into me again, spreading its poisonous worms throughout my body. But God has given me weapons to combat the illness that threatens me, not least of all His Word, the Holy Bible. I can read in its pages how many others struggled through life and yet triumphed by the Will of God. Another weapon He has given me is the reassurance of His love. As a child of God, though my body be dust, I am priceless in His eyes, because He has created me just the way I am. Aside from the poison that causes sin and the worming depression that plagues us all, I am perfect. I can rest in the assurance that though God has given me free will that, through the curse of sin, causes me to stray, I also belong wholly to Him. He is all-just, which would spell doom for me, but He is also all-merciful. I rest secure in that assurance. He will not leave my soul in Hell. I'm not going to waver and say that there are other ways to fight depression that will work permanently. Therapy, drugs, and shallowly happy mantras are only the medicine. They are never the cure. I can say with confidence that believing in Jesus Christ and walking in His steps, taking up your cross and following Him, is the one and only way to cure your depression. Struggling with depression and doubt trying to poison my mental health has been a rocky journey, but God has been by my side every day as I pray and plead to Him. He strengthened my resolve and brought the ship of doubt to a shore of certainty. I now have strength for anything that lies ahead of me, knowing that He will answer me in my distress. He will know what is the best path for me, and He will lead me in the way everlasting. My experience with mental health has been deeply and lastingly impacted by my faith in God. He is also the one who gives me assurance for the days to come. My advice to you? Don't try to fill the hole with yourself. Fill it with God. He is the cure.

"Everyone said: "Dream small and you won't be disappointed. Hold your friendships loosely and you won't be sad when they prove false. Don't give your heart away and it won't get broken. Don't try to fly and you'll never fall." But I'm not afraid of disappointment, because it's a part of life's dreams. I'm not afraid of losing false friends, because they were never true. I'm not afraid of a broken heart, because I will have known love. I'm not afraid of falling, because at least I have tried to fly." I'm Gloriana Boyd, and I wrote the above poem with the intent of expressing how I have changed in the last few years. I was a small-dreamer, a non-committal friend, a girl who held her heart so hard it started to crack, afraid of trying to fly. I was afraid of failing, being left, being heart-broken. I was afraid to fall. But a few weeks after I graduated high school, something changed. God answered my prayers of a purpose and I strode instead of ambled. I tried to fly instead of staying earth-bound. I finally made a decision. I'd always wanted to attend New Saint Andrews College, but I had wavered back and forth between uncertainties. Now I became certain. God was clearly guiding me down this road: if I was meant to go, He would provide the means. I build upon that resolution a beautiful glass castle that reflected and magnified the light of my dreams. From it came marching ideas like so many knights in shining armor. What could that castle of my future hold? New Saint Andrews College reigned as the current champion, but I could see several knights waiting, growing stronger for when I was finished with college. The first dream knight was subtly persuasive, a teacher. The second was a writer, and he was none too gentle with his blows. The third, an editor, rebuked the delusional writer. Fourth came the just-knighted bookshop-owner entrepreneur, gilded gloriously, uncertain. The last idea-forged knight was strongest and most beautiful. She was a wife and mother, but she was incomplete. She fought with a ghost of a partner, a missing piece, for that dream required someone else to fulfill it. She told me to heal relationships, to build stronger ones. I liked her best and listened to her. She might yet still be a dream, but she is the strongest and wisest of the five. Teacher, writer, editor, entrepreneur, wife and mother, all five battled in my mind against each other, hoping for the title that would win them my life. By their battling the castle of my life's dreams grows taller, stronger. The knight who conquers will rule it all, and the others will be subjected to him. Thank you for your consideration of my essay. I hope you will forgive me for taking my metaphor and running amok with it. It would be a great honor and answer to prayer to be the recipient.

When I coached youth soccer last fall, I discovered how much I loved teaching little children. My little sister, Heather, qualifies as a special needs child, though in a different manner from those with learning disabilities. Her kidneys were compromised at an early age, but thankfully she received a kidney transplant recently. She is still required to take medications twice every day to prevent rejection of the kidney, and since she was on an artificial feeding system, and still is, she is working on learning how to eat and function normally. As her oldest sister, she looks up to and learns from me. It is an enormous responsibility, but it is also enjoyable and an enormous blessing. Even though special needs children are not able to experience the world in quite the same way as most of us, they are still living Souls, and it is our responsibility to care for them and help them. My mother, before marrying and raising a family of seven children (the youngest is Heather) was a teacher of special needs children. She has utilized Harold Bloom's quote as a teacher both in her classroom and also in homeschooling us. We were not special needs children, but each of us had our own insecurities, and my mother helped us each to overcome it and find, as Harold Bloom says, "our own presence." I have been deeply inspired by her and by Heather's journey. It's important to realize that special needs children are still people. Just like your friend who dislikes cookies, or who prefers to listen to books instead of read them, or has a penchant for eating paper and chewing on convenient blades of grass, children with special needs have little quirks and personalities that are different from ours, but it is important for them -and for us- to normalize them. They shouldn't be treated like outsiders just because they have learning disabilities. Personally, it is my goal to view their differences as challenges. I've helped my little siblings with their school. It is always the hardest problems when understood that are the greatest triumphs, and that, perhaps, is one of the reasons why teaching special needs children is so appealing to me. I might not appear to be a very competitive girl, but in fact I am a hard worker and creative achiever. The goals I project on my profile are not triumphs in a competitive or sports sort of way, but they are triumphs and great achievements in a different way. A mother with ten children is a different sort of triumph than that of the best soccer player. I could even argue that that sort of triumph is a better one, but that would stray from the purpose of this essay. To address the quote provided (I have spent words luxuriously as I am not often allowed this many in scholarship essays), "I have learned that the purpose of teaching is to bring the student to his or her sense of his or her own presence." Presence, and confidence in oneself, is crucial in the classroom. Students who are uncertain of speaking up, of confidently asserting their presence and personhood in the classroom, are quickly left behind the ones who have already found a home for themselves. It is a greater triumph for a student afflicted in learning to pass their test than for one of brilliance to ace it. My mission is to love every child in the classroom in their humanity without letting their learning disabilities define them. I will make them feel strong as they are and not make them wish they were otherwise. I will encourage and teach, finding for each child a learning method that works for each. I love watching children learn; special needs children are, if anything, more satisfying, because they have to overcome so much more. The prompt for this essay asked optionally for a brief fairy tale. I will provide it, in the style of long-gone well known authors. Once upon a time, in a land not so far away, there were three youths, friends all, who set out into the world to seek their fortune. Their names were Daran, Matthias, and the youngest was the woman Gloriana. By chance, all three pursued the profession of teaching special needs children, and strangely enough, though from very different backgrounds, all three pursued the same classroom. However, because there was a need for only one teacher, those in charge of the school consented to a contest. Each teacher would be privileged to teach the classroom of special needs children for a day. Daran, with the right of the eldest, would proceed first. Raised with a special needs older brother and having gone to all the right schools (even receiving scholarships for his education), he was confident that he was the right person for the task. Proudly, he strolled into the classroom the first day of school. What he didn't take into account was the fact that he had never in his life actually taught someone, let alone a special needs child. I will spare the tender reader the details of the excruciating misery the sensitive children suffered under the rather temper-heavy hand of Daran, except to say that by the end of the day the cleverer children had learned several unpleasant words that are not worth repeating here. The second day was Matthias's turn. Daran clapped him on the back, wishing him "good luck!" as he prepared to take on the class. "Little blighters just about broke me in two," he added to Gloriana in an undertone as Matthias walked through the door. Gloriana winced in sympathy both for Daran and for the children, knowing the misery to which they must have subjected each other. Matthias's day was a downfall as well. Though gentler than Daran, Matthias had only ever taught "normal" children. Additionally, he had just met a young woman teaching another class and his mind was, let us say, not on the special needs children. He tried to be kind, but had been a prodigy himself and could not understand the difficulties the children had. On the third day, Gloriana was extremely nervous. The two young men, specially trained for this task, had failed terribly. How was she, who had only taken a Bachelor's degree in Liberal arts, supposed to conquer where they had been defeated? There was no one to wish her luck as she entered the classroom battle-ground. Daran, discouraged, had long since left, while Matthias was mooning over the teacher in the next classroom. As she walked in, she was surprised to find tentative smiles beaming at her from every corner. Remembering her little sister Heather, Gloriana strode a little taller, returning the smiles with her own. The first task she undertook was to learn the names of the children, which alone took a good half-hour. The class members, she could see, each needed to be taken individually. It would do no good to teach as a whole when each member was so different. Already the day flowed sweeter and smoother than either of the young men had experienced. From the horrors of which they'd told her, Gloriana had expected a classroom full of little terrors. Instead she was pleasantly surprised. Though each were impaired in their own way, they were as a whole the sweetest little group of children she'd ever experienced teaching. At the end of the day, Gloriana exited the classroom with difficulty, for the children had latched themselves onto her. "You'll come back, won't you, Miss Boyd?" "We love you, Miss Boyd!" "Please come back, Miss Boyd!" Such were their exclamations. "Indeed she will," said an amused voice from outside the classroom. The children all started cheering. "For she has earned her employment." As the heroine should in a fairytale, Gloriana lived happily ever after. The end. Thank you for your consideration of my essay for this scholarship. I would be greatly honored and blessed to be the recipient of the RonranGlee Special Needs Teacher Literary Scholarship.

I have two fathers. And no, I'm not saying that my dad is involved in homosexuality. In fact, he firmly believes in the scriptures, as do I. He is married and faithful to one woman: my mother. I'm actually referring to the fact that I have an earthly father and a Heavenly Father, both of which love me and discipline me as they well should. I am a daughter of a man, but also a child of God. Both of my fathers have instilled in me a firm sense of duty and an obligation to my community. Patriotism begins in extending love to those around me in community. If you'll glance over my profile, you will see that I have been involved in my community through both volunteering and work. Love for God and country also inspires me to fight back against the rampant corruption that threatens to drown the United States of America in its seemingly harmless rainbow-covered ideological waters, but trust me, it is a deadly bomb in disguise, threatening to explode and add the United States to the names of Sodom and Gomorrah. The library, one of my favorite places, last year suddenly began putting up rainbows of "acceptance" and "safe spaces," along with making pornographic sex-education pamphlets readily available to little children. Little boys and girls should be playing in the dirt and bouncing on their parents' laps, not enacting an early scenes in Aldous Huxley's Brave New World! Some might want our society to become that, but I (and my family and church beside me) firmly stand up against corruption. Christians need to get involved in community and provide a vivid counterpoint to the trash that twisted individuals are pouring in to our civilization's mind. Sodom and Gomorrah fell. Babylon fell. Rome, great empire of corruption, fell. If we disobey the laws our God has set forth, our country, like the old twisted empires of old, will fall, and great will be the fall of it. If you're wondering what we did to counteract the pamphlet, our church brought it to the city council. My dad himself stayed up late at night writing an objection against it. Our town fought fiercely, and we finally got the pamphlet removed from the children's section. What inspires us (including me) to work in our communities? The answer is simple. Love for our God, and therefore love for our neighbors, though sometimes the best way to love our neighbors is a good slap in the face or kick to the backside to awaken them to reality and bring them running to God. I realize many others may not share my view, but it is nevertheless true. Christians cannot cower in corners and wait for the storm to blow over. Indeed, if they do that, they'll find the storm only grows worse. It is the Christian's duty to run into the storm, sword flashing, guns blazing, heart pounding. As the fellow said, the blood of the martyrs is the seed of the church. Our country, though straying, was founded on Christianity. We are not only patriots for our country, we rise up for our king: Christ. My faith is ultimately why I work in my community. It is my duty to be a shining light to those around me, and if God wills, I'm going to do a bloody good job of it. I've already watched one young man come to Christ. I will see more. Thank you for your consideration. It would be a great honor and an answer to prayer to be the recipient of this scholarship.

"... the light shineth in darkness; and the darkness comprehended it not." -John 1:5, KJV Another translation of the verse is "The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it." As a passionate Christian, I am a bright light in my community, providing an example of what our youth should be doing for our country. I am the oldest of seven children. I graduated in the spring of 2024 and am taking a gap year before attending New Saint Andrews College. In order to fund at least part of my tuition, I'm currently working at our local feed and hardware store. Since I was twelve, I've wanted to go to New Saint Andrews, but ever since then, I've experienced times of certainty and doubt, knotting and binding themselves into a tangle of confusion. Would I go? Am I smart enough? Would I be accepted? Would I make friends or get married there? After I graduated, after a time of long prayer, the pangs of doubt that had stabbed me sharply retreated, and at last I saw what lay ahead of me. Though I did not have the funds, I could tell that God was calling me to go to New Saint Andrews. I had never been spoken to so clearly, and so I began the application process immediately. I resolved anew to be a bright light for those around me. A few days ago, I submitted my application. By Christmas, I will know whether I have been accepted or denied entrance into the college. I can only hope, pray, wait, and work until I know. After, Lord willing, I finish my education at New Saint Andrews, I hope to go on to become a teacher of children. Teaching my siblings and coaching youth soccer, I learned that there is no greater joy and deeper fulfillment than seeing the light of understanding dawn in their eyes, clearing away the fog of ignorance. The first step is New Saint Andrews College, with a tuition level that seems nearly insurmountable to me. Sometimes I despair that I will be unable to make my tuition payments, but I trust that my God will provide for me, so I lay the foundation and I seed the field, hoping and praying that God will build the house and send the rain to make my dreams a reality. The Bright Lights scholarship will truly shine a light into my life. Being the recipient of this scholarship would be like the first drop of rain onto a field after a long drought, like the sunshine on long-shadowed and withered plants, indeed, like a bright light of hope illuminating the deep, immeasurably dark caverns of despair. As I write this, a quote from one of my favorite authors, J.R.R. Tolkien, comes to mind. "So comes snow after fire, and even dragons have their endings." I paraphrase: "So comes light after a long darkness, and even despair has an end." As you can see from the previous paragraph, I am indeed in need of financial assistance. Receiving this scholarship sets me on the path to the shining goal my dreams have set before me. Without it, I would try to run the race anyway, but I fear I will founder and plunge into the seas of despair that wash over the sides of the path I tread and threaten to drown the light of my soul in darkness. I truly appreciate your consideration. It would be a genuine honor and an immeasurable blessing to be the recipient of this scholarship.

Isn't it true that you should embody your beliefs in the way that you live? Isn't it true that it is far nobler to live as if you believed in a higher destiny, and be proven wrong, than to live as if this world is all there is, and be proven wrong? I choose the former. My name is Gloriana. I am a child of God, an avid reader, an aspiring writer, and a passionate student. I love books, people, feeling the wind in my hair, overcoming challenges, and working hard. I led a happy childhood until I was fourteen; until my mother's high-risk pregnancy with my sister Heather. Thankfully, Heather was born healthy, but our relief was not to last. The doctors decided she needed a blood transfusion. They used nearly expired blood. The pH level was all but deadly to a newborn. Her heart stopped. Her kidneys, overloaded with bad blood, quit functioning. Though the doctors restarted her heart, her kidneys would never work again. In the middle of the school year, our family relocated to Seattle as we waited for Heather to get a peritoneal dialysis catheter, which meant we could do her care at home. I joined a private homeschooled co-op two years prior to these events. The sudden move upset my schooling. Unlike my siblings, I'm an academic girl, loving learning and the society of my classmates. Without their presence, I withered. Yet, though discouraged, I toiled on in my schooling, always looking forward to the time we would be able to return home. I tried to persevere through the grief I felt at our parting, even while the tears dripped onto the pages of the work I toiled over. The greatest comfort was the few times I visited Heather at the hospital, reminding me that this trouble and trial was not in vain. Finally, after six long months of prayer, Heather was released from the hospital to continue peritoneal dialysis at home. As J.R.R. Tolkien wrote, "So comes snow after fire, and even dragons have their endings." My loneliness was ended. Two years later, after much toil and academic success, I graduated with my class of seven. The day that should have been filled with happiness instead was tinged with sorrow. A great triumph had occurred a few days prior - Heather finally got a kidney transplant - but it meant my parents could not attend my high school graduation. Additionally, I struggled with the fact that the class I loved would soon be parted to pursue their dreams, and I would not be among them. I cried out to God many times in the weeks that followed. He did not fail me. He sent me purpose and a plan: I would attend the college I'd always wanted to, but it wasn't without a cost: that of time. I was out of it. I would have to take a gap year, but that meant I would have time to earn the money I needed. But tuition was higher than I estimated. I am in need of funds that I am unable to earn in the time allotted, which is why I turn to scholarships. I have persisted in applying, hoping that those awarding scholarships will see through my writing to my genuine need and passionate hope for my future. My goal is to live out my beliefs and glorify God as I pursue my dreams of attending New Saint Andrews College. Thank you for your time and consideration. It would be a true honor and blessing to receive this scholarship.

I was fourteen and midway through tenth grade when my mother gave birth through C-section to my youngest sibling, Heather. There was great rejoicing in my house, until about a day later when we found out that overnight, the doctors had attempted a blood transplant but, as we found out later, with nearly expired blood, with a pH level that was nearly lethal for a newborn. Heather's heart stopped, and her kidneys, overloaded by the bad blood cells, quit working. The doctors started Heather's heart again, but her kidneys would never work again. For the next two and a half years, she went through dialysis, agonizing peritonitis infections, multiple surgeries, and doctor appointment after doctor appointment. The whole time, our family and the churches around us were all praying that she would be able to receive a kidney transplant soon. On May third of 2024, she finally did. Since then, she's been on a constant regimen of immune-suppressing drugs and careful monitoring, but it is much easier than dialysis, artificial kidney function that requires the patient to spend twelve hours a night hooked up to a machine that doesn't even work as well as our God-given organs. Her kidney, while still requiring medical attention, was a huge relief and a blessing. I haven't explained yet how that fits into my own story. As I mentioned earlier, I was nearly halfway through tenth grade. Our family lives in a rural area of Northeastern Oregon called Wallowa County, but Heather was using Seattle Children's Hospital. Due to her six-month stay in the NICU of Seattle Children's, our entire family moved up to Seattle. Being a very social girl, it was a great blow to me to leave my friends and be all but quarantined. I desperately missed my friends. Towards the end of our stay, I even missed the most annoying of the boys. My loneliness and my fear for Heather twined themselves around my heart and squeezed it until my eyes bled tears. Finally, Heather was released from the NICU and we were at last, blessedly, allowed to return to Wallowa County. I was immeasurably happy to see my friends and was blessed to finish out the last two weeks of the school year with them. But in my senior year, on May third, 2024, nine days before my graduation, Heather had her kidney transplant. It was a happy event, but it meant that my parents would be unable to attend my graduation. The event was bittersweet, and afterwards I struggled with depression and doubt for several weeks before coming to a decision about my future. I had always loved academics, and I would take a gap year and continue my education. As I learned more about the college I chose and about the education, I grew more and more excited. I love my family, but I begin to increasingly feel the need to spread my wings and fly free on my own. Currently, if I emptied my bank account, I would be able to pay about half of my tuition, without including room and board. I intend to finish college free from debt, so any financial assistance is appreciated. Due to the word limit of this scholarship, I would appreciate if you would glance over my profile for a more specific snapshot of my tuition and financial needs. I am so thankful for your consideration; I would be honored and incomparably blessed to be the recipient of this scholarship.

If you've read J.R.R. Tolkien's classic book The Lord of the Rings, you might remember when the gentle Faramir said "I do not love the sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory. I love only that which they defend." He was a warrior who fought for peace and not for war, and was thus overlooked in favor of the men who fought for their own glory. I use this quote in many of the essays I write, because it's immeasurably important for our society to realize the real importance of fighting. I use this quote myself in my daily life. Fighting for what I love helps me to treasure those things up yet more. It is a true miracle to find any person who truly embodies selflessness. As a Christian, I believe that no one can be truly selfless, but I also believe that it is my duty to always try to be so. I am not perfect by any standards, but I will readily provide a few examples of times when I have forgotten my "animal instincts" and helped others. One of the times I was selfless that stands out to me runs like this. I left for work, contentedly driving away, when I glanced out the window of my truck and was alarmed to see a trash bag exit my elderly neighbor's door, followed by a frantically waving hand. It didn't take long for me to realize that she had fallen down and couldn't get up. Remembering stories of how my great-grandfather had passed away, I made a desperate decision and pulled into her driveway. I ran inside and found her on the floor. Thank God, she was all right, but I had to help her up from the floor. I got her some water, took out her trash (which was what she was trying to do in the first place), and then left her, because I had to head to work. Then I called some other people who would be able to keep an eye on her. The event taught me a vital lesson about helping others. Secondly, last fall, I went to a friend's house, wanting to hang out and talk, but it turned out that her parents wanted her to do some chores. They said I could hang out anyway, but I didn't feel comfortable just sitting watching them work, so I pitched in and helped. They were picking up fallen branches and building a big pile for a bonfire. I had a fulfilling conversation with my friend's brothers and went home tired but satisfied, having learned that work can be just as fun as play. A third time I embodied selflessness was when I decided to coach a youth soccer team. I was a high school senior, extremely busy, and I'm not sure why I decided to do it. I poured myself into those children, and in turn they poured back into me. I will never regret the time I spent on the children, learning that teaching is a beautiful thing and a great joy. I have spent a good deal of time, especially in my high school years, helping the community through service projects, singing with our youth group at the retirement home, playing violin at another retirement home, and spending time with our lonely elderly neighbor. I would like to expound on those, but the word limit will not allow for it. Thank you for your time and consideration. It would be a great honor and a tremendous blessing to receive this scholarship.

Death is a part of life that, frankly, none of us can live without. We pluck tender plants from the ground, ending their fragile lives, or we kill animals in order to sustain ourselves. If humans all lived forever, the planet could not sustain all of us. We are a warring race, fighting at the slightest provocation, to the greatest grief. We may not like it. In fact, we fear it. In spite of our horror of it, at the end of our lives, when we are feeble and worn, death comes to be a friend. We welcome its relief. At age eleven, my namesake, my great-grandmother Ruth, died. I was deeply struck by her death and the intense grief it brought - but when an elderly person dies, the grief is not so great as when a little child dies. When someone is older, their pain is finally taken away, and they can rest. The death of children is bitterly different. When I was fourteen, my little sister Heather, not even a day out of the womb, nearly died. She was in a hospital four hours away, and I did not comprehend the depth of her injuries till later. I almost lost my precious little sister, just because the doctors were negligent and gave her nearly expired blood. The pH level of the blood had degenerated to such a level that it was nearly deadly for a tiny little girl like Heather. Her heart stopped. Her kidneys were overloaded with the bad blood cells and they ceased functioning. Thankfully, the doctors were able to get her heart working again, but her kidneys would never function again. She was put on dialysis (artificial kidney function) and we were obliged to wait (and a long, long time it seemed) until she was ready for a kidney transplant. During the period of waiting, I dreamed that she passed away. I woke up with tears on my cheeks. When I saw her that morning, it was like the sun had gone down, and then, miraculously, reversed its course, rising from the western horizon. Shortly after Heather turned two, she was finally activated on the kidney donor list, and on May 3rd of 2024, she finally received a kidney transplant. It was a glorious day. My whole family was immeasurably thankful. I've learned not to take my family for granted; to give thanks for life; to not be ashamed of tears. I can't say I've ever practiced meditation or journaling, but I have been known to doodle random sentences about my emotional state in the margins of my notebooks, and to stand still outside and gaze into the distance until everyone wonders if I'm crazy. In reality, the beauty of the landscape heals me. One of the greatest influences in my life is my friend Abby. She's gone through similar trials to me, with her brother almost dying from cancer at a young age. She's two years older than me, but we are close friends nonetheless, bonding over music, books, and shared love for each other and Christ Jesus. She makes me want to be a better woman, and I couldn't ask for a better friend. Another person I greatly admire is my teacher of many years, Michael Caine. He has encouraged me in my downfalls, helped me understand even the hardest problems, and made me laugh with his terrible jokes. His daughters have been my good friends, and he's almost a father to me. Thank you for your consideration of my essay. I would be greatly honored and blessed to receive this scholarship.

"I do not love the sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory. I love only that which they defend." Since I was a little girl of five years old, I have been obsessed with J.R.R. Tolkien's "The Lord of the Rings." The previous quote was from the character Faramir, who nearly died defending what he loved. Though fictional, he has been one of the greatest role models I could ask for, teaching me how to better love and cherish those things closest to me. Recently I discovered passions for writing, teaching, and not so recently, sharing books I love with others. I found my passion for teaching when I coached a youth soccer team and discovered how much I enjoyed tutoring and encouraging children. When I started reading and tried writing my own stories, I discovered that I loved creating books similar and different to those I loved. When I started high school and found others who loved books, I discovered the joy of sharing books and the thrill of a community dedicated to reading. The three passions became equal in my heart, each fighting for attention. This went on for a long time until I considered why couldn't I do all three? After earning a Bachelor's degree at New Saint Andrews College, I will begin teaching. I love children, and I've always wanted to be a mother, but if I was unable to do that, teaching is next best. I desire to instill a love of truth, goodness, and beauty into all of them; to make Faramirs of them. War is terrible, but sometimes it is necessary, and the strongest soldiers are those who love and would die for that which they defend. Once I make a good start on teaching, writing would be the passion that would be next in line. The Bachelor's degree offered at New Saint Andrews College would give me proper guidance and advice. I have always loved stories and wanted to create my own, but it quickly became apparent to me that I need some teaching and training in order to approach any level of good literature. Thirdly, I will open a bookshop to share all the books I love with others. There's nothing more fulfilling than giving a book to another, then watching them become as passionate as you are about that book. Our community has lacked a decent bookshop for ages, and I slowly discovered that this dream of mine is also an invaluable way to serve the community. This particular dream of mine might be several years in the making, but I will eventually arrive there, and when I do, it will be glorious. With Faramir as my inspiration and faithful friends and family at my back, I will take hold of my freedoms and fight for them. I will grasp my dreams and bring them down from the clouds and into the sunlight and reality.

I started playing soccer when I was eight years old in our local youth soccer league, and continued until I aged out of the league at twelve. I was never the most athletic of girls, but I learned to enjoy the fellowship and fun of playing soccer. When I was fifteen, our community started pick-up soccer games, which my siblings and I joined. I gained some skills there, even scoring some goals, though I acknowledged to myself that I was definitely not even on the level of my little sister. Still, I'd improved, and I enjoyed playing for itself. During the years of pick-up soccer I played, I experienced two events that would change and deepen my life and friendships. The first was watching my friend Matthias dislocate his knee for the second time. He would later dislocate it again while playing Ultimate Frisbee (which I witnessed as well) and have surgery. Today he's nearly back to his former athleticism. He was a dear friend of mine. Sports had been his passion and his life. Unable to participate, he stagnated, and I hurt for him. I tried diverting his attention with other games, but he yearned to be outside, running and competing with others of like athletic ability. I couldn't provide that (I never was athletic) and it hurt. Matthias and I grew closer in friendship, but last summer, he grew cold toward me. It could have been his regaining his athletic capabilities and finding I had none, but I will never know for sure. Before I had time to mend what was broken, he left for college. The second was a happier event. Through pick-up soccer, I formed another friendship with a boy called Ray, who would eventually become a Christian. I ignored him mostly at first, thinking him another thoughtless and crass (Oh, how wrong I was!) teenage boy, but was quickly proven wrong by his conversion and his good friendship. I too am a Christian, and as he came to faith and was baptized, it made me immeasurably happy. Once, asked if he knew who I was, he replied, "Yes, we go pretty far back." I have a feeling my friendship with Ray will be one I will always treasure. Another experience I have with soccer is not playing it, but coaching it. At age sixteen, I coached the 5-7 age range of youth soccer. I helped them understand the game and encouraged them. I might never be a decent player, but I believe that I am a good teacher. Sometimes it takes someone who has struggled with a particular subject to be a good teacher of that subject. I think that is one of the reasons I was a good coach. Working with the children inspired me to pursue teaching after earning my Bachelor's at New Saint Andrews College. As I look forward to higher education, I look back through my scattered soccer involvement with fondness. My younger soccer years taught me I can still compete and have fun, even if I'm terrible at playing. Playing pick-up soccer and improving slightly taught me there's always hope, and winning isn't everything. My friendship with Matthias showed me some things aren't worth losing. I still intend to mend our friendship. My growing friendship with Ray demonstrated that sometimes good friends can be easily, unjustly, overlooked. Coaching youth soccer showed me that teaching is one of the most profitable and hardest professions out there. I learned many invaluable life lessons through playing and coaching soccer which I intend to put to the fullest use as I enter college.

"I wish none of this had ever happened," Frodo told Gandalf. Gandalf replied, "So do all who live to see such times, but that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us." This is a scene from the movie "The Lord of the Rings." The quote struck me deeply and I have since resolved to live by it. In the book "Anne of the Island," the indecisive Philippa Blake resolves to live by something not too different. "What would I have wanted me to do when I'm eighty?" Around the time I graduated from high school, I started reflecting on those questions, asking myself "What am I going to do with the time that is given to me?" "What would I wish I did today when I'm eighty?" I started wrestling with the decisions I'd made, or rather not made, trying to comprehend what to do with my life. Unfortunately, I also had to battle a flood of depression that accompanied the doubt I was experiencing. I hadn't jumped on the wagon soon enough to go to college that year, and for some reason my crazy teenage brain convinced me that if I didn't go directly after high school, it wasn't worth going at all. I convinced myself I would drudge away all my life, never go to college, never get married, and die an old, selfish, and unhappy spinster. I don't think any of the adults who were influential in my life really knew the distress I was experiencing. I wish that some of them had thought to encourage my decisions sooner. Eventually, one of them did. It was my father who cited the quote from "The Lord of the Rings" to me at my graduation. A few weeks later, everything started rearranging itself and clicking into place in my head, like a little boy destroying a crumbling LEGO fairy castle and building a fortress in its place. The foolish misconceptions ruling my mind were smashed into pieces and an army of new ideas reigned. The flood of depression evaporated away with the fire of hope that started burning. Those two quotes influenced my decisions from then on deeply. Before the quotes hit home, I'd made foolish decisions, one of which led to the breaking of a dear friendship that I never wanted to lose in the first place. I resolved to mend it the best I could. I also threw away my old convictions about college and decided to attend New Saint Andrews College, even though it meant taking a gap year (which I had always dreaded). After earning a Bachelor's degree there, I'm not entirely sure what I'll pursue, for my heart yearns toward many different things. Prominent among those are entrepreneurship, for I want to open a bookshop; writing, for I wish to be an author; teaching, for I love little children; editorship, for I have always enjoyed critiquing others writing; and illustration, for I have a passion for art. Perhaps I'll pursue all of those. I could not express enough what it would mean to me to be the recipient of this scholarship. I'm experiencing a financial conundrum regarding paying for college. Though I'm working a full-time job, my earnings between now and the time I enter college will be nowhere near enough to cover the full tuition, and, as I am a gap year student, I am ineligible for New Saint Andrews' scholarships. Thank you for your consideration of my essay.

Aldous Huxley, author of the well-known classic Brave New World, once said that, “After silence, that which comes nearest to expressing the inexpressible is music.” It's true. Have you ever heard a song and been instantly transported back to the moment you first heard it? I have. Have you ever heard the first notes of a song and began weeping, because it touched a string in your heart that was still sore? I have. Have you ever had a song instantly put you on fire or fill you with happiness? I have too. Music has begun to fill my heart and pour through my lips, and it has become one of the ways I think. Thoughts become lyrics in my head and I sing them out loud. I have bathed myself in song, and have not come out unscathed. My first memory of a concert is a rather funny one. My dad is an amateur guitar player who trained himself to play. He would sit in the middle of the living room, playing his guitar, singing songs like "She's Comin' Round the Mountain," "Old Susanna," "Marie's Wedding," and "Whiskey in the Jar." My siblings and I would dance enthusiastically to his playing, begging him for "More, Daddy, more!" Now that I'm almost eighteen, an experienced violinist who can actually discern between good and bad music, I hear my dad sing today and realize that he's not actually a very good singer. He does have enthusiasm to his credit, however. I would say that that experience, dancing to my dad's music, probably qualifies as my first concert. It has provided a lot of nostalgia. I recently listened to The High Kings' version of "Whiskey in the Jar," and memories of those early concerts came flooding back to me. The next day, my dad was cooking in the kitchen singing some of the lyrics of that song. My favorite concert is probably the one I attended most recently. It was Zach Top's concert at the OK Fest, and it's a bittersweet memory, not because of the music (which was fantastic country), but because that was the last time I spoke to one of my best friends before he left for college. I didn't know it then, but I never actually got to say goodbye to him. He'd grown cold to me through the past month, and I didn't figure out why until about two weeks later, and finally everything he'd done at the concert made sense. His coldness hurt me, but it also made me resolved to regain his friendship. It had been one of the sweetest I'd ever experienced, and I never wanted to lose it in the first place. The lovely part of the concert was the amazing country music and the endless game of cornhole I played with a young man of about nine years old named Wesley. I enjoyed time with my friends while listening to good music, what could be better? Unfortunately, the sweetness, as I mentioned earlier, was intertwined inextricably with the sadness of parting with my friend. I hope to restore our friendship, and that is a living hope within me even now. I have not actually thought to take pictures of myself at a concert (as you can see below, I submitted another image in order to apply for this scholarship), being too enthralled with other things, but I am honored to be considered for this scholarship. Being the recipient of this scholarship would indeed be a great blessing to a great music lover.

"I do not love the sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory. I love only that which they defend." That is a paraphrase of a quote from J.R.R. Tolkien's "The Lord of The Rings." The character, Faramir, is speaking of his passion for peace. He will fight for his country, but only for the end goals of peace and freedom. I have made this quote my personal motto. I will not fight for fighting itself, but for peace. I will not love the gore and blood of killing, but will set myself to love all that is true, good, and beautiful. Hello, my name is Gloriana Boyd. I am a passionate Christian, daughter, student, and oldest sister of six siblings who loves reading, sharing books, singing, children, writing, drawing, studying, deep thought, silly and/or profound metaphors, words, ideals, and extremely long sentences full of commas. I am currently working full-time over a gap year with the goal of a Bachelor's degree in Liberal Arts and Humanities at New Saint Andrews College in Moscow, Idaho. The tuition at New Saint Andrews College (henceforth NSA) over a year is 18,000 and the total tuition, including a tuition lock, is 74,000 without room and board. Being a gap year student, I am ineligible for the scholarships available from NSA. My earnings from work will come nowhere near to covering the tuition and NSA does not accept government funding or government funded scholarships. I intend to work as much as possible during college. This scholarship would fund a part of either my tuition or living expenses, and I would be extremely grateful to receive it. After completing my studies at NSA, I plan to open a bookstore dedicated, like myself, to the love of the true, the good, and the beautiful. My passion for books has always dominated my life, and I want to manifest it in my life through sharing with the community all the jewels I have found throughout the years. I aspire to elevate the entire community higher through the sales of inspiring books. I've heard people say idioms along the lines of "Leaders are Readers." It's true, or partially so. I would argue that many leaders have been illiterate, but that didn't stop their pursuit of knowledge. True leaders will pursue knowledge. I only want to make it readily available. Good books will bring out the best in an individual, polish it, and let it shine out to the world. I only pray that God will make me the vessel that carries those books to others. The scholarship stated that it was open to those pursuing business, and I have shown you that I am. I cannot answer the question about my impact on the beauty industry, but I have one last thing to say. I vow to bring forth the beauty in everything. I promise to uphold the truth. I swear to overcome evil with good, and let it shine forth through me and the bookshop I aspire to own. God help me to do so. I am honored to be considered for this scholarship, and it would be a great blessing if I was chosen as the recipient.

I've always loved the exploration, building and creating aspects of Minecraft. I've never been much for combat situations, so while others might dart out and attack, weapons blazing, I like to hide away in a quiet little corner of the world and build little houses and communities, experimenting with all the different kinds of bricks and rocks available to me. It wasn't necessarily about utility for me. I liked creating different aesthetics. For a while, that was all I wanted to do, but then I started exploring the world that was available to me. I liked creating little tunnels and building rivers, figuring out how the water would move in different ways. Sometimes my siblings and I played together. After a while, they enjoyed exploring under the surface as well. We would all get excited when we found a waterfall, and because water in Minecraft moves in strange ways, we found ways to move the water for a long way before it stopped flowing. The tall waterfalls were especially coveted, because you could get the water farther. Sometimes, even rarer, you could find lava flow, which worked the same as water, except that it moved slower and wouldn't be shuttled as far. When water and lava collided, it created a strange gray brick that we never figured out what to do with. When we got bored with those, sometimes we would take the time to dig all the way to the bottom of the world, sometimes we'd fall out and die because we didn't care, we just got regenerated anyway. Sometimes we'd make a tunnel deep into the earth and find jewels, digging around them to create little caverns of jewels, competing to see who could get their cavern the biggest with the rarest jewels. Minecraft became a family activity, and I think partially why I enjoyed it so much was because my siblings and I played it so much together. Minecraft doesn't have to be all about war, which is why it is a great game for both boys and girls. The boys are more likely to enjoy all the fighting, while the girls, like me, more likely enjoy the exploration and creation aspects of the game. If there was a video game I had to pick to play again, I think I would pick Minecraft. It holds so many dear memories for me. I greatly appreciate your consideration of this essay, and I would be honored to receive this scholarship.

Have you read or watched The Lord of the Rings? If so, you might remember an exchange between the characters Frodo and Gandalf. "I wish none of this had ever happened," Frodo says. Gandalf replies, "So do all who live to see such times, but that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us." This quote came to me in a time when I was feeling particularly depressed. I was at my high school graduation, and my parents were unable to attend, due to my little sister's kidney transplant nine days prior. My dad delivered a speech, using the previous quote, to me over the internet. I could only weep as he called out to all the sadness that haunted my heart. In the weeks that followed, depression weighed heavy on me. My classmates had been my life. I had loved them as brothers and sisters, and now they were leaving me behind, for I had not yet decided anything with respect to my future. With a heavy heart, I cried out to God in my soul, I poured my heart out to him in my tears, asking Him to show me the way forward, for I could not see a path myself. After about three weeks of this state of depression (it was terrible to me. I had never experienced such a low emotional pit before) the answer came. I would apply to New Saint Andrews College. I had always known that if I attended college, it would be there, but I'd never worked up the gumption or been desperate enough to start applying. God was telling me "Apply, and if you are rejected, you have your answer. If you are accepted, then go." As He willed, admissions closed the day I decided, so my application would be for the next school year. But now I had purpose, and that made my heart fly from the swamps up into the mountains. The worthlessness plaguing me was wiped away by a sudden waterfall of hope. The time would fly, and soon I would depart. A year might not seem like "soon," but I remembered Aslan's words to Lucy. "I call all times soon, dear heart." Since those terrible weeks, I have found that depression, doubt, and worthlessness are shadows that quietly creep into and infect one's mind with hopelessness. I have found I cannot tell myself I am worthless, because a lie told too many times can quickly seem like truth. I discovered that the best way to shake off worthlessness is to help another, to make myself indispensable to them and worth much in their eyes. I cannot allow myself to convince myself that no one cares for me, for the truth is that I am loved by others. That mentality, in the end, is selfishness, for if I end my life, convinced no one cares, it leaves those who did love me heartbroken. Another way to battle hopelessness is to take my focus away from it. If I don't pay attention to it, it loses its power over me. It helps me to go running, to laugh, to plan for the future, or to help others. If anyone reading this is struggling with hopelessness, depression, despair, or worthlessness, I counsel you to turn your mind to other things. Do not let it consume you. Make yourself necessary, love and be loved, find beauty and purpose. You are an immortal Soul, and every Soul has a worth and a purpose. Find yours.

I grew up reading books like The Lord of the Rings, The Chronicles of Narnia, Little Women, and Anne of Green Gables. As I grew older, those childhood reads grew ever dearer in my heart as I plunged my nose into books like The Count of Monte Cristo, Pride and Prejudice, Quo Vadis, Robinson Crusoe, Brave New World, The Ball and the Cross, and That Hideous Strength. I was made fun of in school for being a nerd, but I didn't really care. I wore the name like a badge of honor, because I was glad my parents had taught me to love reading; I was glad that they had given me a rich literary background. Today, working full-time towards a goal of attending New Saint Andrews College and earning a Bachelor's degree, I wonder what I will do after college. Slowly, ideas began to form in my head, among them entrepreneurship. I had always loved books. What would be more natural than for me to open a bookshop of my own? It wasn't a vague idea, either. I have specific goals. I have six younger siblings and have learned from a young age to love children. I could not emphasize enough how important it is to preserve their innocence and trust. Those who thoughtlessly pour propaganda into children's trusting little hands have no idea that they are ruining and corrupting the next generation, convincing them that good is evil and evil good. Whenever I walked into our local bookshop, I was appalled by the tasteless pornographic propaganda they had on display that any little child could pick up and read. I needed to combat it somehow. My bookshop, I resolved, would be safe and healthy for children. Truly safe, not a thinly disguised war zone with bright rainbow covers hiding deadly machine guns that would shoot lies into children's innocent little heads. My bookshop would not be one of those cold machines, where the owner ordered whatever was currently popular, be it worth reading or not. No, my bookshop would preserve the light, beauty, and truth of bygone days, while not neglecting the beams that slip through authors in this time. Patrons would be confident that any book they would find in my shop would be safe, wholesome, and well worth reading. I consider my idea to be one of the sparks of good-book-passion that will add to the flames. I can envision that fire rising ever higher till it touches the stars. Why should anyone suffer through a terrible book when they have good ones at their fingertips? I have worked as an employee for several years at different businesses, and most likely will be obliged to continue for several more before I graduate and have sufficient funds to construct this dream of mine. Throughout my years of experience with employment, I have often daydreamed of the day when I could cast off the shackles of employers and build my own empire of books, following the dream in my head and my heart, but I have already observed from friends and employers that it is difficult. Employment is simple. Follow the rules, do as you're told, work hard and you can't go far wrong. Entrepreneurship is a whole different boat, one easily sunk by poor management, poor finances, or simply a poor environment. It is a daunting task, but one that I look forward to undertaking. After all, a girl has to put work into her dreams if she wants to see them to completion.

"I will be the first to say I'm far from perfect, but grace was made for those who don't deserve it. So easy to cast the first stone, but harder to search your own soul. No one ever wins, when the goal is to settle the score." These lyrics are from the song "Ceasefire" by the band For KING & COUNTRY. When I discovered this song in the middle of 2024, it resonated deeply with me. It did not only convey to me the futility of the turmoil in our country, but the futility and sadness of many conflicts I've had with a certain friend. I was eight years old when I met him, who we'll call, for his privacy, Daran. He was five months older than me, and became my best friend until we both hit puberty. At that point, Daran stayed an immature boy, while I became a very emotionally irritant young lady. Our relationship was strained. He thought it was hilarious to annoy me, and I was very easily annoyed. It didn't help when I started working for his parents. He called me "Glare-iana." A few months after I turned fifteen, after a period of my being gone for five months, I returned home and we were reconciled. I am not sure whether it was that he genuinely wanted to be friends with me, or that I had been gone for so long that I no longer found him quite so annoying, or that we both suddenly found each other more appealing. Perhaps it was all three. In any case, we became fast friends again for about two years until about two months after our high school graduation. Then suddenly, unexplainably, he grew cold toward me. I was hurt by his curt answers and sudden departures. We had used to be such good friends; I could not understand what had come over him, until one night, a friend of mine told me. Another girl had informed Daran that "I liked him." He had never been socially competent, and now he drew into his shell. It was probably beneficial for both of us that he left shortly after for New Saint Andrews College. My life turned on end when I considered that New Saint Andrews is the college I too want to attend. How am I supposed to make living in the same community work again without being painfully awkward? It was true I had "liked him", but I would rather have our old camaraderie back if "liking" him meant that our friendship would disappear. I already had a second chance with Daran, and I blew it. I know he enjoyed our friendship as much as I, and I want to mend the tear that my foolish behavior blew in the fabric of our relationship. I will not, however, let our fractured friendship get in the way of my dreams of attending New Saint Andrews College, which is where this scholarship comes into the picture. My current financial situation is inadequate to the tuition of NSA, and the Bachelor of Arts degree offered by NSA is essential to my dreams of teaching children in the future. That is how I will pay back everything that has been poured into me. I will pour myself into the children in my classroom. I will give until I can give no more and then keep giving until my well has run dry and the children have gone, full of me. I will bring up children who can resolve an argument peacefully, who can give each other grace. This is my dream.

"I wish the ring had never come to me. I wish none of this had ever happened." "So do all who live to see such times, but that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us." This quote came to me, through my father, at one of the most difficult times of my life. It's from The Lord of the Rings, and encapsulates a conversation between Frodo, the protagonist, and Gandalf, his mentor. In any case, my father used it, very effectively, as encouragement. I was on the stage of my graduation, and my parents were unable to attend, as they were with my little sister as she waded through the deep waters of a kidney transplant. However, my father was able to videocall into my graduation and deliver a speech to me. Since that time, though our family has been reunited, I have used that quote over and over in my life to encourage my decisions. Striking though that quote may be, one that has impacted me just as much is Faramir's line in the same book: "I do not love the sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory. I love only that which they defend." I have always, in the innermost chamber of my soul, desired peace, even when my blood stirs me up against myself to petty arguments with other people. My name is Gloriana Boyd. I was greatly blessed to grow up in a household that was passionate about books and reading. They passed their love onto me, and I nurtured and fed it with book after book until it overflowed into a desire to share reading with all I met. From that same creative spring came a love for music, drawing, writing, and teaching. Using both of the former quotes as inspiration, a career path has slowly bloomed before my eyes. Its twists are still yet too confusing to clearly decipher, but I have the first step lying before my feet. I plan to attend New Saint Andrews College and earn a Bachelor's degree in Liberal Arts. From there, I will be well equipped in whatever path I might take, be it teaching, writing, editorship, art, or, in my wildest dreams, ownership of a bookshop. The tuition at New Saint Andrews comes to 18,000 annually without food, board, or transportation. My parents, due to my previously mentioned sister's health conditions, are unable to assist with my college tuition. To make the financial situation worse, New Saint Andrews does not accept any government funding, and as a gap year student, I am ineligible for any of the scholarships that they offer. This makes it necessary for me to turn to other private scholarships, such as this one. Any amount would be a great gift and a blessing to me, as it is a personal resolution of mine to finish college without the burden of student debt. I gave you two quotes that have inspired me greatly in the past year. You've heard a bit about me and my passions; you've heard about the paths I want to take. You've also heard about some of the financial struggles I find myself mired in, and my plea for assistance, and so I ask you to have mercy on and assist a young woman who very much wants to fulfill her dreams. Thank you for your time.

First, I have a series of sixteen words. These are Monopoly, Elf, Laugh, Cyrus, Ring, Cry, Whisper, Trainor, Swift, Underwood, Scholar, Scrabble, Pipe, Scream, Trouble, and Bananagrams. Next, I sorted the words into categories. My first group of words is called Games. The words are Monopoly, Scrabble, Trouble, and Bananagrams. The reasoning behind this group is fairly simple, as all four words are games. The second group I constructed is named J.R.R. Tolkien, and the words are Ring, Pipe, Scholar, and Elf. J.R.R. Tolkien was a scholar and an author who liked to smoke. His most famous books are largely about a ring, and elves are widely involved, as are smoking and scholarship. The third category of words I made is called Human noises, and the words I put into the category are Laugh, Cry, Scream, and Whisper. Again, my reasoning in this group is fairly simple. Laughing, crying, screaming, and whispering are all different types of noises from the human mouth. The fourth group I constructed I named Female Singers, and the words I used are Underwood, Swift, Cyrus, and Trainor. These words are all the last names of fairly well known female singers: Carrie Underwood, Taylor Swift, Miley Cyrus, and Meghan Trainor.

"I do not love the sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory. I love only that which they defend." That quote is a paraphrase of Tolkien, and it is one of the quotes that I have forever emblazoned on my memory. This one touches me particularly because it embodies the mind of peace: War should only be necessary to bring peace to a people, to defend against hostiles. We, as a country, need to bring our children up to believe in that. War should not be something that is desired; on a whole, peace should be the theme in which we live our lives. My name is Gloriana Boyd. I possess a wild love of books and academics. My passion for reading is such that I wish to pass it on to others like the proverbial water of life, giving ever yet never losing any. A dream has grown in the past years of becoming a teacher, of endearing little children to reading. It was my greatest desire to attend college immediately after finishing high school, but God and my finances said that was not to be. I had to relinquish my desire and work a year to bolster my finances, but at the same time I sacrificed the scholarships I could have had, for many colleges do not allow gap year students to be eligible for scholarships. Thus, I am stuck in an unsolvable financial conundrum. Today, I am working in a feed and hardware store as a cashier, waiting for the time to come of college. I deal with cranky customers daily; I restock shelves and work a till. Underneath the busywork, however, I can't help but wonder, what would have been different in my life, if I had been able to attend college directly out of high school? What would have been better, and what worse? I am undoubtedly lonely currently, but I know that, the Lord willing, I will have many friends in the future. To quote, or rather, paraphrase Lewis, "I call all times soon, dear heart." It seems a long, long year to me, but to others it will speed by, and then, who knows where I will be? The sacrifice of time surely came at a high cost, but in the end, I have no doubt, it will be worth the wait, worth the tears, worth the wondering. Meanwhile, I must wait.

I have always had an intense love for reading and learning that went far deeper than "liking to read," as many put it. From the womb I was enthralled with stories, and when I finally learned how to read at age five, I developed a deep, permanent, abiding passion for reading those stories. I began at "The Lord of the Rings", "The Hobbit", and "The Chronicles of Narnia," moving up through the King James Bible, "Little Women," "Anne of Green Gables," and others, till I reached classic literature like "Pride and Prejudice," "Quo Vadis," "To Kill A Mockingbird," "A Tale of Two Cities," "The Odyssey," "The Count of Monte Cristo," and "Brave New World". Today I am exploring slightly less known books like "The Ball and the Cross," and contemporary books such as Brandon Sanderson's Mistborn series. Though every book I have mentioned is excellent in its own way, the book that has stuck with me most through the years is J.R.R. Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings. I learned to embrace the talents given to me through Aragorn; from Frodo I learned to persevere through trials; from Samwise, I learned to always stand by those I love, even when they do not realize it; I learned from Boromir that temptation can be conquered and flaws can be redeemed; from Merry and Pippin, I learned to always keep a humorous outlook on life, for so hardship can be lightened; Arwen's story taught me that love is worth infinitely more than one's life; Legolas and Gimli showed me that friendship can be found even where it is not expected; from Faramir, I learned to never give up, even when faced with rivals better than oneself; and from Eowyn, I learned that women can be both warriors and peacemakers. Lastly, Gandalf himself was my mentor. I learned along with Frodo, listened mesmerized to his stories like Pippin and Merry, and rode with him on Shadowfax. If one was only allowed to read one book besides the Bible, I believe that The Lord of the Rings would be a very viable option. Perhaps the reader is able to observe that I am fond of both Tolkien's books, and, like he, exceedingly long sentences. Today, I have nearly two hundred of my own books. I take pride in their beauty, but most of their beauty to me comes from the contents. Who knew that a small block could contain in it the whole wealth of Middle Earth and the many peoples which populate it? It has always been a dream of mine, since I first began to collect books, to be either a librarian or the owner of a private bookstore, perhaps both. Would it not be wonderful for others to share in a book collection so magnificent that the characters and worlds within spill into the room and are breathed in and known by those around me? I must give credit to my parents for my dreams: they were the ones who taught me to love stories. They were the Gandalf to my Aragorn, and like Aragorn, I will pursue who I was meant to be, a lover of books. I shall paraphrase Faramir: "I do not love the sword for its sharpness, nor the arrow for its swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory. I love only that which they defend." I do not love the book for its cover. I love only that which it contains.

To paraphrase Tolkien, "I do not love the sword for its sharpness, not the arrow for its swiftness, nor the warrior for his glory. I love only that which they defend." This quote I have taken to heart. My name is Gloriana Boyd, and I attended high school at a small homeschool co-op by the rather lengthy name of County Christian LiberSchola Community in the beautiful Oregonian Wallowa County. I am planning to attend New Saint Andrews College in Moscow Idaho, and there earn a Bachelor of Arts degree in Liberal Arts. Over my high school years, I have seen that depression and doubt are shadows that can creep in the crannies of one's mind, infecting one with hopelessness. You cannot tell yourself that you are worthless, for a lie told too many times manifests itself as truth in one's mind. You cannot let yourself convince yourself that no one cares for you, for the truth is that they do. That sort of mentality, in the end, is mere selfishness. You might end your life, convincing yourself that no one will care, but, as they do, it really will leave the world worse off. Even if you are unknown to anyone, that does not mean you have to continue in this path. The good you could do today and tomorrow will be your worth. If you feel worthless, take the focus from yourself; help others and win your worth. When despair and depression creep in my mind, I have found that the best way to shake them is to help another; to busy my mind and body with tasks; to do so much good that there is no question of my worth. How could another have done all I have today? After my graduation, I went through a despairing few weeks of hopelessness. I didn't know what to do with my life. I had a job, but it wasn't something that I wanted to spend my whole life doing. I wept many times; I poured out my heart to God and asked Him what to do. Eventually, the answer came: I would attend a college. I had a purpose, and the sense of worthlessness that had plagued me was wiped away by the rush of hope. Since then, I have found that, personally, the best way to combat hopelessness is to take the focus away from it. If I do not pay attention to it, it will lose its power over me. Sometimes it helps to go on a run; to laugh with some friends; to plan for the future; to help others. It can destroy a terrible sense of worthlessness when I make yourself necessary in the eyes of another. I will do this by being a good teacher, woman, and friend to others. If anyone reading this is struggling with hopelessness; with depression; with despair; with worthlessness: I counsel you to turn your mind to other things. Do not let it consume you. Make yourself necessary, love and be loved, find beauty and purpose. You are an immortal Soul, and every Soul has a worth and a purpose. Find yours.

Depression and doubt are shadows that can creep in the crannies of one's mind, infecting one with hopelessness. You cannot tell yourself that you are worthless, for a lie told too many times manifests itself as truth in one's mind. You cannot let yourself convince yourself that no one cares for you, for the truth is that they do. That sort of mentality, in the end, is mere selfishness. You might end your life, convincing yourself that no one will care, but, as they do, it really will leave the world worse off. Even if you are unknown to anyone, that does not mean you have to continue in this path. The good you could do today and tomorrow will be your worth. If you feel worthless, take the focus from yourself; help others and win your worth. When despair and depression creep in my mind, I have found that the best way to shake them is to help another; to busy my mind and body with tasks; to do so much good that there is no question of my worth. How could another have done what I have today? After my graduation, I went through a despairing few weeks of hopelessness. I didn't know what to do with my life. I had a job, but it wasn't something that I wanted to spend my whole life doing. I wept many times; I poured out my heart to God and asked Him what to do. Eventually, the answer came: I would attend a college. I had a purpose, and the sense of worthlessness that had plagued me was wiped away by the rush of hope. Since then, I have found that, personally, the best way to combat hopelessness is to take the focus away from it. If you do not pay attention to it, it will lose its power over you. Sometimes it helps to go on a run; to laugh with some friends; to plan for the future; to help others. It can destroy one's terrible sense of worthlessness when you make yourself necessary in the eyes of another. If anyone reading this is struggling with hopelessness; with depression; with despair; with worthlessness: I counsel you to turn your mind to other things. Do not let it consume you. Make yourself necessary, love and be loved, find beauty and purpose. You are an immortal Soul, and every Soul has a worth and a purpose. Find yours.

When I spoke at my graduation, I quoted the author C.S. Lewis: “It may be hard for an egg to turn into a bird: it would be a jolly sight harder for it to learn to fly while remaining an egg. We are like eggs at present. And you cannot go on indefinitely being just an ordinary, decent egg. We must be hatched or go bad.” This is the truth about education. Though my graduation was a kind of hatching, it is yet necessary for me to grow and learn. Once I have reached my full potential, I have realized that it is my responsibility to then take other eggs, or students, and care for them until it is their turn to hatch. Throughout the past year, and especially through my experience coaching youth soccer, I have learned that not only do I enjoy teaching, I have no little skill in it. To be sure, there is great improvement that could be made, but the potential -and the passion- is there in plenty. I have been informed that, to be a teacher, one must have a bachelor's degree. I intend to achieve that goal, and through that process, grow in wisdom and experience, until I hatch from that shell, ready to teach and learn through teaching. I cannot perfectly see now what my teaching career would resemble, but I can surely attest that whatever may be, I promise to work my best and hardest at what is put before me, whether it be a class of stubborn high schoolers or a room of adorable kindergarteners. I will not teach what is wrong, but I shall instill in whomever I am privileged to teach a love for all that is true, and good, and beautiful. If one has only grown to love the wrong and the ugly, how can the world ever become better, if all the citizens are bent on destroying it? No, we must teach the good and lovely, else our world crumble. I remember the children on my youth soccer team eagerly awaiting my approval of their plays. The feeling of being someone whom they look up to and from whom they need approval is something that is a jewel beyond price. It goes without saying that possessing that place in a child's heart is a wonderful thing, though it bears great responsibility. With it comes the power to bear them up on wings to a shining future or shatter their dreams and leave them weeping in the dust, never to trust another again. I will not shatter, but Lord willing, I will heal the broken hearts, lift up the weary, send the children off to the glorious west of their future lives with a solid education and an appreciation for beauty, for poetry, within them.

"You're my unsung hero, so I'll sing this song for you." These are lyrics from a song written by the band for KING & COUNTRY about the band members' mother. Just as a mother is an unsung hero to her children, so I have had many mentors who too are unsung heroes to me. One of these was Michael Caine, who singlehandedly crafted an entire curriculum for our homeschool community. Our school, a home school co-op, that he founded in 2020 has been going strong for four years. My class of seven was the first to graduate in 2024. Not only did he take the time to basically run the whole school, he taught several classes in the same school, including Physics, Calculus, and Computer Science. Perhaps he was slightly prone to tangential talks, but I only learned more from when his thoughts jumped on the nearest train and went for a ride. It could be frustrating to the others, but I believe I now know so much more from his teaching than I would otherwise. In my ninth and tenth grade years, when I and a classmate were ahead in math and not able to attend the other class because of that, he tutored us in a special class on Fridays, when he would ordinarily be resting from the ordeals of the week and tutoring his own children. Without Mr. Caine, I would have struggled and foundered in my math classes (for subjects related to that were his specialty) and understood little to none of the material taught. Perhaps I am naturally bright, but he took that light and polished it until it shone as clear as it could. Through my senior year of high school, when he started calling us up to the front of the classroom and asking us to work problems on the board, "teaching" it to the rest of the class, I discovered that, though I am currently a poor teacher, I want to become better. I wish to pass my own love for academics on to those younger than me. School is not a prison; it is a place where the formerly unknowing are mercifully freed from their ignorance. Through my own love of learning, I wish to instill in those I teach a passion for what they study. If they enjoy what I teach, they will learn yet the more. Once I have completed a bachelor's degree (and perhaps earlier than that in other areas), I hope to explore opportunities to teach children however I am able. It would be terrible if the generous education that Michael Caine and my other teachers poured into me relentlessly were to be spilled on the stony ground and bear no fruit. It is my responsibility to see that the gifts they have given me do not go to waste, and I will see that they do not.

Poetry bears many different names and different forms. To the eye, it presents itself as the sweeping strokes of a paintbrush on a canvas; the curve of a white cloud against the blue sky; the ascending mountain in indescribable purple hues; the stretching red sands of a desert; and the rough pillar trunk of a tall, tall pine tree greening the air. To the tongue, it is the quick, ethereal sweetness of a fading pastry on the tongue and the indescribable, savory spices of a medium rare steak. Poetry to the ear has the name of music, of high, pure tones like the very birds of paradise and deep, low tones that lure the very souls of mountains from the earth. However, poetry found its first name in the poetry of the imagination, and that poetry, though imbibed through the eye, flows from and returns to the well of the imagination. It is called forth, sometimes poorly, sometimes with unparalleled richness, in the art of writing. Before I learned to love writing, I loved reading. Years of reading extensively marinated me in words, and I came to love how authors used them in different ways; how the sounds and auras of different words made the story change. There are ways to say the exact same thing differently: to pinpoint exactly the aura of a story or to shoot wide and miss the mark. For example, "pretty" and "stunningly gorgeous" have essentially the same meaning. The first, however, instead of describing a princess of unsurpassed beauty, leaves the reader with the impression of a milkmaid with a pleasant face. The second conveys a sense of awe and a certain specialness about the character to the reader. Sometimes simpler is better; other times a more complex word is preferable to capture the desired feel of the story. When I began to write, at first only essays and papers for school, I found myself taking advantage of words. Perhaps I utilized that ability too well. My father, who reviewed my papers, professed that my essays were as if I had eaten a dictionary whole and spued it over the page. Perhaps my writing still smacks of the dictionary, but that is part of the reason I enjoy it. Melding words and crafting them into a story or an essay is a great part of my love of writing. When I was in tenth grade, I was inspired by a friend to become a writer. I have been encouraged since by others. However, it is not profitable to begin any career with no experience. I do not want to write if I cannot write well, and the world has no need of carelessly written books. If I am to continue forward with my dream of crafting poetry for the imagination, I find that I will require guidance and methods, advice for the future. The poetry of the imagination, after all, is only truly poetry once it has grasped beauty and drawn it down to earth and into the soul. It is not possible to touch the heart, mind, and soul with a twisted poetry drawn from a garbage heap; it must be figurative gold, few and far between. Poetry, though it does not need to be sought out and so often comes unasked for, is so often unappreciated. I do not think I can capture the light of the stars in my hands and pen without teaching; I can but clumsily sketch the burning light of the sun in words.

I drew a deep breath as I prepared to walk up the stairs to the stage of my high school graduation. It would be the first, last, and only time I would ever graduate high school, and my parents were not able to attend. It was for good reason, and I told myself that as I felt the tears begin to pool in my eyes at the sight of the rest of my class embraced by their loving parents. I was graduating, at a green seventeen, a year early from high school with a 4.0 GPA, and my parents, who had been the greatest part of my education, were away, caring for my youngest sister as she waded through the deepening waters of a kidney transplant. God had sent the kidney we'd been praying for for so long, but He had sent it nine days before my high school graduation. That was a time when tears fell as plentifully as rain in the jungle. I still struggle to understand why He brought two amazing things in conflict with each other, but I would never have taken my sister's new kidney, a lifesaving organ, away from her in exchange for my parents attending my graduation. In the following months, indecisive as to what to do with my life and depressed by the prospect of my friends leaving for college and my staying behind, I wept many times; I prayed often for guidance; I talked with my friends and teachers. Then, one morning, I woke from sleep and, miraculously, I could see the road ahead of me with new clarity. My steps were suffused with joy as I proceeded forward, thanking God for His answer to my prayers. I had experienced success, not born of my own endeavors, but that of a long-awaited clarity. For months, I had stumbled in a haze of indecision, but that morning, it was as if the fog cleared and at last, I could run. If you have not already guessed, my family participated in a small Christian homeschool co-op, and thus my success is defined differently from that of many others. Though my class was small, it was quite competitive, and I secretly rejoiced when I knew the material or could be one of the ones singled out with a rare smile from the teacher. As the oldest of seven, I consider it a great success when my siblings listen to me, or when we spend an hour without fighting. I've been one of the USA's workforce since the age of fourteen, and it is one of my most encouraging moments when my paycheck arrives. Though that morning a few months ago was enlightening, it raised yet more questions. Thankfully, they are a good deal easier to answer. For instance, how shall I pay for the college I've chosen? My parents, due to the financial hardship married to my youngest sister's kidney problems, are all but unable to assist me in my endeavors to further my education. I am currently working a full-time job and am planning to continue doing so for another year. Additionally, I plan to work as much as possible during college. Unfortunately, however hard I may work (and I consider it another victory of mine that others in my community consider me a hard worker) it will not be enough to bring me through college without debt. You see, though college debt may be so prevalent in today's society that it considered the norm, and indeed, expected, I plan, and will consider it a great victory, to stand out in today's society by finishing college debt-free. Because I will not accept loans (that means incurring more debt) my other option is scholarships, and I would consider it an honor, a victory, and a great blessing to be the recipient of any scholarship, including this one.

"I gotta go wash something!" Perhaps you don't recognize that quote, but it is from Disney's excellent animation "The Emperor's New Groove." Though a comedy, this movie came to me in a time in my life when I was in some of the deepest hardships I had ever experienced, namely, the kidney failure of my youngest sister and later, her encounter with the sometimes-deadly peritonitis. Though she went through much more than we did or ever could, our family was still affected deeply in many ways, including spiritually and emotionally. The Emperor's New Groove follows the young, arrogant emperor Kuzco through a humorous journey. His counselor, Yzma, and her assistant, Kronk, attempt to dethrone Kuzco through application of a poison which, accidentally switched with another vial, turns out to transform Kuzco into a llama. Kronk, trying to finish off Kuzco, accidentally drops the sack containing the llama onto a peasant's cart. A series of hilarious and unlikely events ensue. Eventually, the movie concludes happily (as most stories, in my opinion, should), with a humorous ending that wraps up the story quite well. I remember sitting on the floor, surrounded by my siblings, and laughing our heads off at the movie. Later, we quoted lines from the Emperor's New Groove to each other. Today, I still regularly remember the movie and fondly quote it. After my family returned from my sister's ordeal, I watched the movie again with some friends in the Spanish translation, bringing yet more joy to our group as we laughed to each other over the movie. "Laughter is the best medicine," it's said, and I believe that the Emperor's New Groove is a tonic to my soul. Though unrealistic in many ways, the movie impacted me with the clean, wholesome humor that reminded me of some of the Loony Tunes shorts I watched as a child. Somehow, in a way I think I will never be able to explain, the laughter and memories I experienced watching that movie will always be irreplaceable by any other film. There will be other movies, to be sure, that I enjoy and have a place in my heart, but I believe that the Emperor's New Groove will always dwell there in a special place of honor, not for the intrigue or excellent animation, not for the particularly stunning affects or gripping storyline, but for the sweet memories that surround it. It's strange, sometimes, how much you can be impacted simply by a happy memory amid a time that is full not of happy memories, but of sad ones.

"You see her? She was my soccer coach!" This is one of the sentences I hear from the lips of a little girl as she points me out to her friends. It never fails to warm my heart. Last fall, I assisted in coaching a children's soccer team. I taught them and encouraged them, and by the end of the season, I could see the difference. It gladdened my heart to see their improvement and the way they looked up to me. C.S. Lewis once said, "it may be hard for an egg to turn into a bird: it would be a jolly sight harder for it to learn to fly while remaining an egg. We are like eggs at present. And you cannot go on indefinitely being just an ordinary, decent egg. We must be hatched or go bad." I’ll point out that eggs, however extraordinary, need constant care in order to hatch. Education isn’t an unbending, heartless, humdrum, iron institution—at least that’s not what it’s meant to be. To quote J.R.R. Tolkien, true education is a kind of never-ending story—a matter of continual beginnings, of habitual fresh starts, of persistent newness. This is applicable to anyone who has ever had to consistently teach anything. If a teacher's subject is dry through always being applied in the same way, no student will care to take anything rewarding away from that teacher's classes. Having been a teacher, even in slight ways, I have experienced the giddy satisfaction of persuading a student to understand a concept; I have grown through the growth of the student. As I prepare to enter my college career, I look back at my life and see that some of my greatest and deepest joys have come through teaching my siblings or others. There is a certain inexplicable joy in expounding a concept to another and seeing the dawn of the light of the understanding upon their faces. A teacher of mine called it the "aha" moment. I, though I agree with him, would rather dub it the "eureka" moment. Like the metaphorical egg, I'm just now hatching, breaking free from my own shell and growing free from those who have mentored me through my childhood. It is time for me to go out and tend to my own eggs: to gently turn them and keep them balanced, to sometimes startle them with unexpected truths and "eureka," or "aha" moments, and finally, when they are ready, help them to hatch and make their own way into the world, just as I am now doing.

C.S. Lewis once said, "it may be hard for an egg to turn into a bird: it would be a jolly sight harder for it to learn to fly while remaining an egg. We are like eggs at present. And you cannot go on indefinitely being just an ordinary, decent egg. We must be hatched or go bad." I’ll point out that eggs, however extraordinary, need constant care in order to hatch. Education isn’t an unbending, heartless, humdrum, iron institution—at least that’s not what it’s meant to be. To quote J.R.R. Tolkien, true education is a kind of never ending story—a matter of continual beginnings, of habitual fresh starts, of persistent newness. Perhaps unconsciously, my history teacher, Mrs. Hurley, showcased this saying in every aspect of how she educated us. To rephrase Tolkien, education is meant to be joyful, fresh, persistently new. Even if I begin one of Mrs. Hurley's classes in boredom, it’s extremely hard to stay that way as her genuine smile and joyful ardor over the subject draws me into the conversation—whether it be in History class or one of the many other classes she has either taught or led in the absence of another teacher. She knows her subject passionately well and she encourages me to do the same. Like an egg, I'm just now hatching, breaking free—but I would not be here without Mrs. Hurley—without her, I would still be trapped in my shell. Her efforts don't just include teaching, either. They include all those times she has blessed me with an act of compassion, and I couldn’t even begin to count those. For example, when my family was going through trouble and tumult, and my siblings and I needed rides to various events, she always granted that request. When my parents were unable to be present at my graduation ceremony and I was supposed to make a senior board, she very kindly printed all of the photos I needed for the board and refused to be paid. She has given me an example of a beautiful woman and a good wife. When I need encouragement and an example, I can always be sure that if I look to her, I shall not be disappointed. Maybe, finally, as I "hatch from my egg," I can fully appreciate her—who might have been said, wrongly, to just “happen to be there,”—but are worth far more than I at first guessed.

I think we've all heard from Disney about all the young ladies who are tired of their hometowns and want to leave. We've seen all the propaganda urging young people to "follow their hearts." What if I told you that I would like to return home after college to work? What if I told you that, for me, "following my heart," means marrying and raising children of my own? What if I told you that I am nonconforming to society, but not through defying biology, but through embracing it? I am a young woman who has just graduated high school. I enjoy reading, both as a hobby and for school, because I can nearly always learn something from the book - be it cautionary or encouraging. Another of my hobbies is writing in categories such as essays, fiction, and poetry. While I have not had any of my work published, I would very much like to see that become reality in the future. A third hobby, one that many of my teachers would call doodling, is drawing. To be honest, I have become quite good. Though I have not reached the level of someone such as Picasso or Leonardo DaVinci, I can draw quite accurate portraits of people. My other hobbies include hanging out with my friends, knitting, and babysitting my siblings. How will I contribute to my field, you ask? My answer is simply this: I will do all I can with all I have been given to go above and beyond what is requested of me. I will work hard, and even if I am not the strongest or most intelligent, with this mindset I will succeed, Lord willing, in anything that I choose to put my effort. There is no reason why I should be blocked from accessing the gateways of intelligence. Perhaps my IQ is lower, but if I work harder and try harder, I believe I can reach the same level, though it will be much harder for me than it is for others. However, through the highest effort comes the highest satisfaction, and I will let that console me instead of musing and regretting all the time I had to put into my studies compared to my peers. After all, I don't need to be like them. I can stand out from the crowd, whether it be in the way I live my life, or the amount of effort I put into my studies.