Recently, the winners for the annual Laws of Life essay contest were announced for McIntosh High school.

The school’s runner up was sophomore Grace Erlinger who wrote an essay titled “A Reminder.”

Every day I wear a bracelet on my left wrist. On one side it reads “Cari’s Courage” and on the other side “Perseverance” is inscribed. Whenever I feel despair take hold of me, I find myself glancing at that bracelet and remembering. I remember that not everyone has a life to stress over. I remember that not every kid gets the chance to struggle with growing up. I remember that I am blessed to have the opportunity to both suffer and prosper throughout my life.

When I was a child, death always seemed like it was the destination of a long journey that I had only just started. But in 2010 I realized that some people reach that destination much sooner than they should. Cari Hadac was one of those people. In my hometown of Mt. Horeb, Wisconsin she was one of my classmates. When we started fourth grade, I found out that she had developed a brain tumor over the summer. At first she barely seemed sick. But over the course of the school year, we saw how she slowly weakened. She started needing a teacher with her at all times. Then she couldn’t come outside at recess. By late winter she was in a wheelchair. Eventually, she could no longer come to school. The fact that a girl just like me could develop a terminal illness at nine years old was blatantly incongruous and unnatural. While I skied outside in the snow with my friends, she was in a hospital getting chemotherapy. As I was playing soccer after school, she was losing her ability to speak. I didn’t believe that she could actually die until she did, just days before her tenth birthday. Her death made me realize that some people reach their destination at an alarming and unfair rate. Suddenly, death seemed more inevitable and closer than ever.                   

When dealing with everything life hurls at me, I can forget how lucky I am. Unlike Cari, I get to worry about college and panic over what my major’s going to be. Unlike Cari, I get to fight with my friends and be embarrassed by my dorky parents. Unlike Cari, I get to be an angsty teenager who just wants to eat thai food and sleep for the rest of eternity. Unlike Cari, I get to feel insecure and sigh dramatically with a oh-my-gosh-nobody-understands-me-at-all attitude. Growing up can be so painful sometimes. But at least I get to experience all the ups and downs that go with it.

I bought that bracelet back in 2010 from Cari’s family. They were selling them in an attempt to raise money for Cari’s medication. About a year ago, I was rummaging through my stuff and I found that bracelet. I picked it up, slipped it on and decided to never take it off. Now it serves as a tangible reminder of how every single part of life my is a blessing. All my sorrows and all of my joys are precious. My bracelet reinforces that every time I look down at it. When I see that bracelet images of Cari’s frail, delicate body at her memorial service and of her grief stricken parents flash across my mind. These images are seared into my memory and I see them vividly when my life doesn’t feel like it’s worth the trouble. The memory of Cari propels me on through the ugly and beautiful parts of life with a sense of awe and appreciation. Every day I wear a bracelet on my left wrist so that I will always remember.

The winning essay for McIntosh high school was written by junior Sophie Smith.

When I was around twelve years old, my mom began having these “sit down” conversations with me. She would always call me into the family room and sit me down in front of the fireplace.  I knew I would be annoyed within the first ten minutes of our conversations and always began the conversation with an attitude. Back then, I was spending all of my free time with who I thought was my best friend, Sylvia. Together she and I were always in trouble. We made choices that  we now understand were unwise. School and my academics, other friends from softball,  family, or respect were certainly not my concern. Being rebellious and having fun were the only concerns that mattered.  I stressed out my mom in ways that I didn’t see back then or care to understand. These “sit-down” conversations she had with me were always about self respect and self love. My mom would say to me, “If I respect myself, others will follow.”  She preached and talked in what seem at the time like every other day until she felt I could give her examples about what I loved about myself. I never understood what she meant until now. Self respect and self love hold  the catalyst to a successful path in life with no regrets.
Sometimes doing the right thing in life is hard. In any given situation, I can choose the undeniably easy way out. I’ve had moments in my life that I needed to rely on my self respect so the decision to be made turned out in my favor.   The feeling I get in my gut right before I make an important decision heavily depends on the respect I hold for myself. My breathing labors, my  heartbeat pounds, my face flushes first before the calm comes from those conversations I had when I were twelve years old.  “If I respect myself, others will follow.” Right then and there,  I made the decision not to hurt a person I  love because I  was angry, I work hard always to do what’s best and do the right thing by people while allowing  others to love me unconditionally. Self respect comes from within and it’s practiced and put into the daily life grind.
Self respect and self love remain  the greatest blessing to all mankind. It’s not to say the good people don’t sometimes make incompetent choices, but the mistakes are limited when the people feels good about themselves, their actions, and their decision. I’m grateful for the many times my mom made me sit down and explain what it it meant to love myself. I will carry this advice in my heart and hear her voice every time a quick or well thought out decision has to made.  Fewer issues would happen in this county if more people respected and loved themselves.