Bowl of Rice

Tell a story from your life, describing an experience that either demonstrates your character or helped to shape it.

Peering around the corner, I scouted the room, assuring myself that no one stood guard over the treasure. After a few tense seconds, I slowly crept into the kitchen, constantly glancing over my shoulder should the unspeakable happen: someone discovering and apprehending me. I shuddered, trying to disregard the impulse to flee, as I almost tripped over my target. The black cylindrical container that my mother had so carefully kept out of my grasp stood on the floor within reaching distance. "At last!", I cried to myself as I speculated what kinds of hidden riches lay within the locked box that had eluded my small, chubby hands for so long. Quickly seizing the handle of the mysterious cylinder, I pulled as hard as my small body could; seconds later, I fell to the ground on my bottom. Swallowing my desire to cry out in pain, I rolled over to my side and pushed off the ground to stand. Refusing defeat, I took hold of the handle once again. This time, I noticed a small black button on top of the handle. With a smug grin on my face, I pressed the button and heaved; this time, the lid easily swung open. I plunged my hand into the awaiting treasure: freshly cooked rice.

Ever since I could observe and discover the world around me, I...

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