Palm Tree Marriages and Paper Clip Rings by Chelsey

Palm Tree Marriages and Paper Clip Rings by Chelsey - May 2013 Scholarship Essay

                 Many people say that the best memories are made in high school and college, when emotions and fearlessness are running at an all-time high. My favorite classroom memory, however, does not involve embarrassing freshmen year jitters or comical chemistry lab mishaps. My favorite memory is a fleeting moment from second grade that pleasantly lingers in the back of my mind.
                The Palm Tree was the most popular spot on the playground during those incredibly long half hour recesses. Looking back, it wasn’t an impressive tree at all, but rather a short stub with a dwindling amount of green fronds. However, despite its homely manner, The Palm Tree was the place where, for the entire month of February, countless amounts of meaningless “marriages” were performed. In fact, it was not uncommon for a girl to be married five times in one day, often times to the same boy who was held there against his will.
                Each person was paired up with another from the opposite sex while one individual (usually a boy) was designated as the minister. Every day, my best friend was paired up with the classroom crush, Dawson, while I was stuck with Cody, the boy I had known since I was in diapers. My goal, day in and day out, was to finally become my crush’s “bride.”
                On Valentine ’s Day, the marriages were at an all-time high. Like always, I was set to be married to Cody, while my best friend was gloating about how excited she was to marry Dawson for the umpteenth time. Then, with a sly grin and a mischievous glint in her eye, she showed me her hand. Jealousy flooded over me as I stared at the giant, ruby-red RingPop sitting on her chubby fingers. Little did I know that Cody was somewhere in the distance, watching my reaction.
                At recess that day, the marriages were solidified, and as we returned slowly to class, Cody skipped up to my side. My jealousy was bubbling up inside of me, and I rudely asked what he wanted. Obviously hurt, he reached into his jean short’s pocket and pulled out a crude ring made out of a silver paper clip.
                “I got you this,” he said, simply. “It isn’t much, but I spent all my money on ice cream.”
                Struck silent, I slowly extended my hand. He shoved the contraption onto my thumb, and then sprinted off to class. Obviously, his courting skills could use some improvement. Nevertheless, I tried to cover my excitement, but my insides were screaming with pure delight. A candy ring may have more pomp and show, but my ring was made especially for me.
                This memory lies patiently in my mind, but every so often, it floats to the surface and I relish in its innocence. Out of all the memories from grade school, this one reigns supreme because of its sincerity. I cherished that silver ring for a whole week, a monumental achievement for a second grader, until it disappeared. Nevertheless, Cody showed me that actions with pure intentions are much more meaningful than actions done for attention, and I’m thankful for the lesson along with the memory.