Halloween of my sophomore year was the night my world shattered; my grandmother passed away. A night meant for costumes and laughter morphed into the darkest moment of my life. She wasn't just family; she was my best friend, my confidant, and my unwavering support. Our bond transcended distance; we'd spend hours on the phone daily, talking about everything and nothing. Those moments, whether sharing day-to-day stories, silly jokes, or playing guitar for her on FaceTime, were the highlights of my days. Losing her felt like losing a piece of myself. The following days were agonizing. I lost all passion, especially for playing guitar. Every chord and melody echoed those times I played just for her. Everything that once brought me joy now felt empty; the world seemed dull without her. Grief consumed me. I went through life's motions, but my heart wasn't in it. One night, overwhelmed, I turned to prayer and found a sense of peace. I realized my grandma wouldn't want me to be sad. She always believed in me, encouraging my dreams and seizing every opportunity. I could almost hear her voice urging me to keep going, to shine, and to play my guitar. From that moment, I made a promise to honor her memory. I picked up my guitar again, not just for myself, but for her. Each song now feels like a conversation, keeping her close even though she’s gone. I threw myself back into my passions, rediscovering meaning in them. Her loss taught me invaluable lessons: resilience, the power of faith, and the strength love provides. Her passing wasn't an end, but a beginning—a journey dedicated to making her proud. Whether excelling in school, volunteering at the Gumbo Limbo Nature Center, or pursuing my dream of marine biology, her spirit guides me. Every success I achieve is a tribute to her. She illuminated my path, showing me how to live with kindness, passion, and intent. The ache of her absence is ever-present, yet it has become the wellspring of my drive. Her memory is now my most profound source of strength. I sense her presence, urging me forward. I move ahead with deep gratitude for her love and her wisdom, resolved to honor her in all that I do. Her influence resonates within every decision, shaping me into the person she believed I could be. Even though she's gone, her presence remains a constant source of courage and inspiration.

When I was ten years old I watched my first NBA Finals. LeBron James and the Cleveland Cavaliers were competing in Game 7 of the NBA Finals. LeBron's amazing block against Andre Iguodala caught my attention as I sat on the edge of the couch, staring at the television. That's when I understood why so many people think LeBron is one of the best basketball players ever. LeBron James is an amazing athlete. His unique mix of being big, fast and skilled makes him stand out from almost every other basketball player ever. He has the ability to see the whole court like a point guard, the power of a power forward and the quickness of a shooting guard. He has always shown leadership on and off the court during his career. LeBron James shows he is more than just a basketball player by making important plays at the end of games and supporting social justice causes. Even though LeBron is amazing I still think Michael Jordan is the best basketball player ever. Jordan won six NBA championships and never lost in the Finals which is a record that no one else has been able to match. No one else has been able to match his competitive nature and skill at handling pressure which has set a high standard for others to follow. When you see Jordan's best moments like the 'Flu Game' or his winning shot against the Utah Jazz it's easy to see why he's still considered the greatest of all time. Ultimately both LeBron James and Michael Jordan have made a lasting impact on the basketball world. LeBron James is really great at everything in basketball and he does a lot of good things outside of the game too. But in my opinion Michael Jordan's legacy is still the best and can't be beaten. Even though I think LeBron is great at basketball Michael Jordan will always be the ultimate basketball legend for me.

When I put on a snowboard for the first time, I was four years old and stumbled down a beginner slope while snow flew in my face. Although I didn't understand much about snowboarding at the time, I was familiar with Shaun White. I instantly admired Shaun because of his free energy and gravity-defying skills, and each time I fell, I wondered how many times he must have fallen before perfecting his famous halfpipe runs. Shaun White is not only a remarkable athlete but also a representation of tenacity, zeal, and pushing boundaries. It was a master class in perseverance to watch him compete for Team USA, particularly during the Olympics. His ability to perform under pressure, recover from injuries, and still set records is something I greatly respect. His attitude is what really sticks out to me, even more than his medals. He always focuses on bettering himself and is modest in triumph and gracious in defeat. Shaun White is not just a snowboarder to me; he symbolizes a way of thinking. I always put in a lot of effort and stay strong whether I'm working on a difficult school assignment preparing for a long run or helping out at Gumbo Limbo Nature Center. Shaun has demonstrated to me that success is not about never failing—it's about getting back up each time you fall. Shaun White's narrative has always struck a chord with me, despite the fact that Team USA has produced many great athletes. Long after the snow melts, I will remember the lesson he inspired me: passion and determination can make dreams come true.

Halloween night of my sophomore year brought a change in my world forever. That was the night my grandmother, such a guiding light and at the same time the biggest fan, passed away. It seemed so cruel-the timing of what should have been a fun and laughter-filled night turning into one filled with sadness and loss. She rocked my world, placing me into uncharted depths of emotion which touched every area of my life. I am a diligent student. Learning came easily for me, and I was very proud of my academic success. But after the death of my grandma, in sophomore year, I could not quite focus on classes and continue with homework assignments. I did not do my best, and I felt lost. It was not only about school work; it was the weight of sorrow that fogged my brain and made even small tasks feel overwhelmingly insurmountable. In the silent moments of reflection, I turned to G-d. I talked to him from my heart and asked for strength and clarity. At that instant, I knew my grandma would never want me to stay in this sorrow. She would want me to keep walking, to live a life that is going to be a tribute to her memory. From that moment on, I promised myself to work hard, not only for myself but for her. Junior year became a turning point, I forced myself to get back on track, rebuild my confidence, and do better in school. By senior year, I had made the honors roll for the first quarter-something that spoke volumes of how much resilience and determination I put forth. My grandma's death taught me this: life is fragile; each moment counts. I've re-approached my education with fresh purpose and gratitude. I would like to major in marine biology for my master's at college. I want to contribute to ocean conservation and biodiversity research through finding sustainable solutions to protect marine ecosystems. This can inspire others through my work, possibly to be one of the scuba divers on National Geographic documentaries. I don't believe that education stops at personal growth; rather, it creates meaningful change in the world. My grandma's memory motivates me, yet at the same time keeps my feet grounded. Every success I get is for her, and I know she watches over me with pride. This experience has shaped me into someone who values perseverance, resilience, and the power of education to make a difference.