Personal Narrative- Becoming a Good Loser
During my childhood I learned a number of valuable and important lessons. Each as varied as the next. Several years ago, however, I was taught a lesson that forever altered my outlook on life.
I was seven years old and I’d already proven to my two sisters that I was a force to be reckoned with. In the mood for a little fun I decided to partake in a game of Candy land. The object of the game was to make it to Candy Castle before my two worthy opponents. The game lasted for less than an hour, but I would remember it for the rest of my life.
Under my mother’s almond surveillance we orchestrated the game with little, if any glitches. I was in the lead by five dusty, rainbow colored spaces and wallowing in my success. But then something strange and horrible began to take shape. I was dealt a few bad intricately illustrated and colored cards and my lead was surpassed. I was in dead last and worse my chances of catching up were zero to none. I was stuck in Molasses Swamp and all red cards were hidden from my grasp. My time was running out and I found myself wringing my hands nervously while hungrily watching my neighbors sprint toward the finish line. Thorough the charming peppermint forest they traveled, along Queen Frostine’s spectacular ice fortress, and around the deadly Molasses swamp , where they dutifully saluted my sugar coated...