Gervic in Wonderland

[H-1] The Mock Turtle's Story :: And the Moral of That Is

H. The Mock Turtle's Story
And the Moral of That Is

The Duchess does seem to find a lot of morals in things, so tell us a non-fictional event that left you with a most important moral you’ll never forget. (<1000 words)

My childhood nestled within a family of seven – parents, siblings, and me. As the second of five, family dinners were a cherished dream, yet college whisked me away to a new city. Living solo was tough. Chores and studies became an intricate daily dance, with meals too often sacrificed for textbooks. I envied the ease of university cafeterias and shiny new sneakers – luxuries completely out of reach for me. Yet, there was a fire burning within me, fueled by the memory of my mother and sister sacrificing everything so I could have an education.

Despite a partial scholarship earned from graduating top of my class, our financial reality was harsh. My chosen path – a Bachelor of Science in Accountancy – was no cakewalk. Sleep was traded for hours of accounting theory and endless balance sheets. I persevered, earning some early success. But then, everything crumbled. My sister's pregnancy and a failed subject stole my scholarship, shattering my dreams. I was crushed and quit school, returning home lost and aimless.

Boredom gnawed at me, but books, paper, and pen brought a flicker of comfort. A spark ignited, and I returned to the city, landing a job as a Call Center Representative. The work was tough, particularly dealing with angry customers, but there was satisfaction in helping my parents. Debts got paid, unthinkable luxuries were tasted, and we felt the first glimmers of abundance.

More blessings were in store. My dear Grandma, sister to my late grandfather, extended a lifeline. Heartbroken at my stalled studies, she offered sponsorship for my return to school, this time in Manila, inviting me to share her home. Hesitant yet unwilling to waste her love, I packed my dreams and turned in my resignation.

Manila was a whirlwind – my first solo plane ride, the symphony of a bustling city, and meeting Grandma for the very first time. In those quiet moments between awaiting university acceptance, poetry filled the void. But Manila's university was not for me. With sparse classes and uninspiring learning, I felt lost. Grandma, sensing my struggle, saved me again, arranging my transfer back to my original university. Relief washed over me; I was going home.

Years flew by, and I finally walked across the graduation stage, clutching my diploma. Not the original path I'd envisioned, but this Bachelor of Science in Business Administration with a Major in Management Accounting was my hard-fought victory. It opened doors I never dreamed of.

Today, I'm fortunate to have a position at a respected company. While comfortable, I long to push further. Milton Berle's words echo in my mind, "If opportunity doesn't knock, build a door." And that's precisely what I'll do. With resilience and a heart full of dreams, I'll navigate the unknowns, always pushing myself to create my own path.


Moral Lessons

Family as motivation: The sacrifices my family made ignited a tireless determination within me. It reminds me of the power of love in propelling me forward.

Adaptability is key: I faced hardships in university, shifting cities, changing majors, yet I adapted, showcasing remarkable resilience.

Never say die: Even after my scholarship loss and stalled university plans, I found my way back, proving that setbacks don't define my end story.

Gratitude fuels growth: I appreciated my Grandmother's unwavering support, a reminder that recognizing those who help me allows me to reach even greater heights.

The journey is never over: My ambition is on point. I refuse to settle, reminding me to strive and build those doors of opportunity.

Here's a poem I wrote back then based on these experiences.
This poem won First Place in
"Shadows and Light Poetry Contest" 


Through Struggle to Dreams

The hollow ache in my stomach, a constant companion,
a bluesy serenade to poverty's symphony.
Ramen noodles, my lifeblood, a symphony of sodium,
fueling the engine of late-night cramming,
dreams simmering in the broth of borrowed textbooks.

Sleep, a luxury I can ill-afford,
traded for stolen moments between classes,
curled on the library floor, knowledge my only blanket.
Laughter, a distant echo from a life I can't recall,
replaced by the relentless hum of fluorescent lights
and the frantic scribbling of notes on borrowed paper.

Friends, a concept I hold at arm's length,
lest their carefree revelry exposes the threadbare fabric
of my existence. Envy, a serpent coiled in my gut,
as I watch them flit through sun-drenched days,
unburdened by the weight of empty pockets and soaring tuition.

But beneath the calloused hands and weary eyes,
burns an ember, fanned by the bellows of hope.
Each sunrise, a new battle cry,
each conquered exam, a brick laid on the path
to a future where ramen noodles are but a memory,
and dreams become a feast, shared with the world.

For in the crucible of struggle, resilience is forged,
a spirit that cannot be bent, a heart that will not break.
And when I finally stand, diploma clutched in hand,
it will be a testimony to the sacrifices made,
not to poverty, but to the unyielding hunger
for a life beyond the confines of an empty bowl.

WORD/LINE COUNT COUNT:
582 Words
25 Lines

In the manGer(vic), He sleeps
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