To Persevere

Perseverance. It's a word we hear a lot of in our lives. But do we ever stop to really think about what it is to persevere? Do we really consider some of the things people in this world are forced to push themselves through, or what we may encounter and need to persevere through in our lives? It takes a lot of strength and determination to persevere through some things. Some people can't handle really persevering through certain situations. These people fall short and are never able to gain the great reward perseverance can bring. On the other hand, there are people who have incredible strength and are able to push through and accel in intense situations. These people can later enjoy the fruits of their labor.

In the novella The Old Man and the Sea, the main character, Santiago, must persevere and overcome many circumstances that are working against him thorughout the story. Yet, throughout the story, he doesn't give up hope and manages to persevere.

The night before setting out on his skiff, Santiago learns that Manolin will not be able to come with him. Without another person on the boat, especially a younger more capable one, fishing will be much more difficult. But, Santiago does not give up. He doesn't abandon his fishing and throw in the towel, instead "He fitted the rope lashings of the oars onto the thole pins and, leaning forward against the thrust of the blades in the water, he began to row out of the harbour in the dark"(28). He didn't allow a bump in the road to bring him down. He was determined to fish and break his streak of unluckiness. He wasn't going to allow the loss of his partner to stop him from doing that.

"He was an old man who fished alone in a skiff in the Gulf Stream and he had gone eighty-four days now without taking a fish" (9). 84 days. That's 12 weeks, or 3 months. It is also how long Santiago had gone without catching a fish. For a fisherman, that is extremely disheartening. With no catch, the fisherman cannot make any money, making it hard to sustain their own life, nevermind the supplies they need to fish. This doesn't stop Santiago though.

Without a single catch in eighty-four days, Santiago presses on. Many people would quit and find something else to do that would make them money. Or simply that rewarded them, rather than wasting time and effort on something that was not providing a result. Santiago, unlike these people, has faith. "Today I'll work out where the schools of bonito and albacore are and maybe there will be a big one with them" (30). Throughout the story, he doesn't give up hope. He maintains the idea that if he perseveres, eventually things will turn in his favor and he will be successful. It takes someone with incredible mental strength to maintain this kind of thinking. It takes a kind of perseverance that Santiago has.

A skiff, a hurt hand, bad supplies, and a 1500 pound marlin. This was the situation Santiago had on his hands as he sat, alone, out at sea. He had been sitting, waiting for the fish for three days, which would be enough to make most people give up. But he didn't. He waited as the fish swam around him. Waiting to finally reel him in. "'If you're not tired, fish,' he said aloud, 'you must be very strange.'" (67). Santiago spoke these words as he waited for the fish to finally jump in the air. But he didn't. Yet Santiago did not give up. He waited and waited until the fish finally jumped. With his perseverance and determined attitude, he was finally able to catch the magnificent fish.

Throughout this novella, Santiago is faced with countless challenges, but perseverance is what gets him through. He has that mental strength, that drive to never give up, this, in the end, provides him with great rewards. We can learn from Santiago. When the going gets tough, never give up. We can always make it through. All we need is perseverance.

Short Story

A Pitch, a Pain, and a Problem

“1,2,3,” I thought to myself. I imagined my arm going up and around to the rhythm of those numbers. But imagine was all I could do. I longed to actually pitch as I sat on the bench at practice with a brace wrapped around my shoulder and arm. I looked over at Izzy, who was warming up on the side while the others fielded balls. That was where I should be; getting ready to pitch balls to the team during the second half of practice. I definitely did not belong on the bench, yet here I sat. It all went downhill about a week ago while I was at pitching practice. As my arm cam around in the pitch I felt something snap and I was suddenly in immense pain. This incident was quickly followed by a trip to the hospital. They informed me that I had torn a tendon in my shoulder and would not be pitching for a while. Also, surgery was going to be needed to repair the damage. So now, with this joyful knowledge swimming around in my head, I sat watching Izzy and her rudimentary pitching skills. I was in a horrible impasse and I deplored it.

“Ok, bring it in everyone,” Coach yelled out. I watched as the team hustled over into a huddle around Coach Johnson. I stood up and slowly made my way over. Being ‘crippled’ exempted me from the whole hustling thing, although I really just thought they should come form the circle around me. I listened as Coach talked about the big game on Thursday. He was going on about how our fielding really needed to be infallable because there would be more hits off Izzy’s pitches. This, of course, was a nice way of saying “Sorry Izzy , but Alex is a way better pitcher than you and brings a lot more to the team.” I could see Izzy knew this by the expression on her face. I took a secret satisfaction from this. Once Coach finished talking and he sent people out to their assigned positions, I lethargically made my way back to my seat on the bench. After starting up the drill, Coach Johnson came and sat down next to me. “So the doctors say you’re out for the season?” he questioned.

“Yup,” I answered, annoyed.

“But you’ll be back out next season, right? We’re counting on you,” he said nervously. I was only a sophomore and essentially the only pitcher. I was a pretty good asset to the team.

“Probably,” I said. “The doctor is saying it depends on how my surgery goes. If it doesn’t heal correctly, I may not be able to pitch, or play, anymore at all,” I explained to him. Saying ‘probably’ was actually a little sanguine. The truth was my doctor had told me it was a tricky operation and I only had a 50% chance of my shoulder completely healing. Personally, I was feeling a little pessimistic about it, but why should I bring down poor old Coach? I guess I was in a pretty good mood; must be taking too many painkillers.

“Well hopefully everything goes ok then,” he said a little more relaxed this time.

“Yeah,” I mumbled, “thanks.” He got up and returned to overseeing the drill. He immediately started calling out corrections and moved onto the field to demonstrate. Soon practice ended and the garrulous team filed into the locker room to change. I didn’t stick around to talk to my teammates. I felt relegated. I just walked down to the parking lot and luckily my dad was already there to pick me up. I got in the car and we drove home.

At home I didn’t bother doing my homework, I wasn’t going to be in school for the next couple days anyway. My surgery was tomorrow and I was getting a little nervous. Every time my parents would mention the surgery and try to make sure I wasn’t nervous, I maintained my philegmatic tone and act like it was no big deal. I didn’t want them to think they needed to baby me about it. I could take care of myself. I went to sleep pretty early because I had to get up at 6:30 to be at the hospital for 7:30. In the morning, I remained calm. “There’s nothing to worry about,” I kept telling myself. I knew deep down this was true, but I was very afraid that something would get screwed up and I would never be able to be a softball pitcher again.

“Alex,” my mom was calling from the front hallway.

“Yeah, I’m coming,” I yelled back. I got off my stool, dropped my cereal bowl in the sink and went outside to get in the car. We soon pulled into the parking lot of the hospital and went inside. We told the receptionist that we had arrived and she told us the doctor would “be right with us.” Of course that was a lie, we waited for an hour for Dr. Lane to finally see us. I’d always been confused by why doctors were allowed to make people wait forever. I mean when somebody doesn’t go right when the light turns green, or people don’t check out of CVS fast enough, people throw a fit. But doctors make you waste far more of your time and get paid tons of money for it, yet no one openly complains. The strange world we live in. Well once Dr. Lane finally got around to seeing us he brought us into a small room. He went over the procedure for just about the millionth time, and explained the risks and benefits (which were all pretty obvious). When he was finally done, he brought us down the hall to the operating rooms. We went into one and there were a couple nurses waiting. They handed me a robe to put on. I went to the bathroom, put it on, and then returned to the room. They had me sit on the table then lay down. The nurses were very genial and helped me to calm myself. By now my parents had gone back to the waiting area. I laid down on the table and became latent. They put a mask over my mouth and nose and told me to count backwards from 10. Everything slowly went black and then there was nothing.

At some point in the future I woke up. I say this because when I did wake up I had no idea how long I’d been out for. It could have been days, years even, and I wouldn’t have known. It was a strange feeling. When I opened my eyes I saw my parents sitting across the room. When they noticed I was awake they were all smiles. They were suddenly asking me questions. How did I feel? What’s the last thing I remembered? They also said that Dr. Lane would be coming back soon. Sure enough, within 5 minutes he was opening the door to my room. He walked over and started checking things. He asked me how I felt and I told him I was fine.

“Well the surgery went very well. Better than we expected actually,” he explained. “Although there is still a chance it doesn’t completely heal the way we want it to. In two weeks you’ll need to start physical therapy and then you can come back for an appointment in two months.” My parents and I listened and they took down recommendations for physical therapists. After they were done, Dr. Lane left and my parents and I talked.

At this point all I really wanted to do was go home. And the next day that’s exactly what I did. I went home and essentially laid on the couch for the rest of the week. I watched a lot of T.V., but what I was really thinking about was my next doctor’s appointment. I needed to know if I was going to be able to pitch again. Not knowing was more than I could handle. During the following week, I returned to school and I went to my softball team’s games and practices. I watched them lose to inferior teams because of Izzy’s pitching, and it drove me nuts. But I stayed compliant with Dr. Lane’s orders, and I started physical therapy during the next week. I always assumed that because physical therapy was helping you that it would make you feel better too. I was wrong. Turns out, even though it’s ‘helping you’, it’s extremely painful. But I persevered and soon enough it was time for my appointment.

As my parents and I entered the doctor’s room and sat down, I filled with trepidation. If I couldn’t pitch, or play sports anymore, I didn’t know what I was going to do. Dr. Lane entered the room and asked me how I was doing. I told him I was good. He examined my shoulder and then moved me to a room down the hall so a nurse could take an x-ray. As my parents and I waited for the results, my mind was racing with thoughts. What would I do with all my time if I couldn’t play sports? Would this affect my college choices? I had always planned on a softball scholarship. Before I could finish imagining the worst, Dr. Lane re-entered the room.

“Well Alex, I’m happy to tell you that you are having a successful recovery” This one sentence completely assuaged my racing thoughts. “You’ll have to continue your physical therapy, but from what I’m seeing, you’ll be pitching again by next season.” I was suddenly elated. I wanted the next 10 months to fly by. This excitedness was pretty much the first emotion I’d really shown through this whole ordeal and my parents looked shocked. I simply smiled at them.

10 Months Later

“Are you sure you’re ready?” my dad asked me nervously.

“Yes I’m sure,” I told him, “Anna told me I could start pitching again whenever I wanted and I want to now.” Anna was my physical therapist and I had almost tackled her when she gave me the ‘ok’ to start pitching again.

“Ok,” my dad said nervously “but please take it easy.”

“I will, I will,” I said. “Don’t worry about it.” I slid my glove on and it fit, well, like an old glove. I reached down and picked up my softball and snapped it into my glove. It felt just like it always had. I turned sideways, lifted my arm and brought it down in a half butterfly. It was such a rush. It felt right. And in that moment I knew I was back where I belonged.

2nd Quarter Book Review

Redefining Beautiful by Jenna Lucado Genre: Christian/Inspirational

This book is all about how you look at yourself. It talks about how your relationship with your father and your relationship with God affect the way you look at yourself and the way you look at other people. It gives real insight into father/daughter relationships. Also, how a relationship with God can help you if you don't have a good father/daughter relationship. What's great about this book is that it is not only for people who are really religious. It does make references to Christian religion, so it may not be for people who are of another religion, but it is good for anyone who is Christian (at any level). A lot of the things the book discusses can be related to by anyone.

I really liked the way this book was written. What the author did was she would start by discussing a topic. Then she would break off and tell a story either from her own life or from the life of someone she knows. Then she would go on to explain how that story demonstrates or relates to the topic. This was very helpful in understanding the concepts of the book and applying them to my own life. She would also sometimes write a side not in a boxed off area of the page that referred to something earlier discussed in the book. I thought this was helpful in keeping up with the ideas and relating them to each other. It helped to make everything in the book go together.
I have not read any other books by this author and I don't think she currently has any other books. I have not read many books of this style or genre either so I don't have much to compare it to. Although this book has inspired me to read more like it.

"What is beautiful? How is it defined?"(3)

This book gave me a lot to think about in my own life. A lot of the things she talked about in the book were things i could relate to. I thought it was very interesting to read about how the father/daughter relationship affects girls. It was also interesting to compare what she said to my own father/daughter relationship. She also talked a lot about your relationship with God. Some of that got a little hairy for me. I am not a super religious person and I have doubts about the whole concept of religion. But although some parts were a little over the top for me, I still enjoyed a lot of it. A lot of it was overly detailed but more general. I found this to be inspirational and gave me a lot to think about.

Overall I thought this was an interesting and thought-provoking book. I really enjoyed it and would suggest it to any girl who ever feels insecure or questions themselves in terms of looks, popularity, or anything else a girl could be self-concious about. Or any girl who may want some more insight into their own life.