Personal Narrative: A Day At The Mall Of America

Blood-curling screams all around. Marvelous roller coasters whizzing in every direction. Glistening merchandise vying for your attention. This is just a day in the life of so many people in the United States, but for so many others this is unimaginable. They cannot support themselves or their families, and so can’t even envision being able to engage in nearly any activity they fantasize. It all started two years ago when I heard my church was having a mission trip to Minneapolis, Minnesota and we would be going to the Mall of America. It was the crack of dawn, but I was already wide awake and ready to go. I had been counting down the days until our mission trip to Minneapolis. Never before had I been to a major amusement park, and all I had to do was a little charity. The deal of a lifetime jumped up at me. “Mom! They 're here, I’m leaving!” I exclaimed to my mom. “Okay, have fun!” My mother yelled. I was already out the door ready to hop into my friend’s car.

It was like an alarm went off, everyone was up and getting ready. We annihilated the continental breakfast as fast as we could and stumbled into the bus drowsily. Almost the instant we sat down the bus was heading toward the Mall of America, our anticipated destination. Hours jumped by and we had a blast. It was very late and none of us wanted to leave, but in the morning we would have to participate in dreaded charity. So, we all headed back to the hotel and the second our heads hit our pillows we were out cold. The sun woke me up and I wanted anything but to pull myself out of bed. However, I knew we would be awoken any minute anyway, so I tore myself from my perfect imprint in the bed.

Before I knew it, I was on a small farm that was smacked down awkwardly in the outskirts of Minneapolis. The sun had barely risen, but I already could feel it burning down on us. This was going to be a long