Where Happiness Comes From Essay, Research Paper
Where Happiness Comes From
by Tonia L. Harmon
Their farm was two 100 estates of maize Fieldss,
cattles, hogs, and, of class, poulets. No farm would be
complete without poulets. At the southeast corner of
the farm, behind the smaller maize field, was the creek
with clear cold H2O that reached past my articulatio genuss. On
most weekends my household would travel to see our friends,
the Tailors, who had at one clip seven male childs to maintain
them company. All of them were grown with their ain
lives to go to to, except for Dan, who stayed on at the
farm to assist maintain up the harvests. His younger brother Dave
still came back to the farm, from the busy metropolis, to see
and convey his kids to see their grandparents. Even
though they were about the same age as my brother and I,
we did non play with them because they were greedy and
didn & # 8217 ; t accommodate our playing makings by continuously
altering regulations and rip offing. It was rare that we encountered
them anyhow, and that suited us fine. Most of the clip we
would remain the whole weekend. Our parent & # 8217 ; s elected to
slumber in a collapsible shelter, while my brother and I slept in one of
the many cosy sleeping rooms of the farmhouse. We loved it
at that place and in secret both he and I wished that we could
There were separate grounds why we loved it at that place.
My brother, Forest, had a pick of over a twelve
different old autos and trucks. Forest was allowed under
the goons so that he could putter with the engines and
figure out how they functioned. He was a ten-year old
mechanical mastermind. Everyone knew that he was traveling to
turn up to be a machinist. When he was five or six,
Forest found an old transmittal behind the barn ; in two
hours he had taken it apart and put it back together
once more without anterior direction. Old Mister Tailor
watched from a distance while Forest disassembled and
methodically assembled the transmittal to its original
Our parent & # 8217 ; s are proud and still every bit impressed
as the twenty-four hours it happened. They still brag and carry on
about his mastermind enterprise, as they do with both of us
for the many particular brushs accumulated during our
formative old ages.
My grounds for loving that farm can non be so merely
expressed. I can non contract my ground into one great
memory, and I can non state when precisely I fell in love
with the Tailor farm ; possibly it was from the first clip
I stepped onto the warm and inviting dirt.
There were minutes when I & # 8217 ; d acquire a explosion of happy
energy and run through the field with my hair winging
behind me. The maize was at least four pess above my
caput. Runing through it gave me a secret topographic point all my
ain, like a wholly separate planet that was occupied
by merely me. Most frequently, after playing in the maize field
I went to the crook in the creek where the deepest topographic point
was, and after taking all unneeded vesture I swam,
feigning I was a mermaid in the ocean. I loved to
watch my long ruddy hair sway under the H2O with
my graceful liquid gesture. If the Sun & # 8217 ; s beam danced on
my hair merely right, beautiful colourss would stream through
the clear Utopian H2O.
After supper Ea
ch dark everyone collected on the
big screened-in forepart porch. The grown-ups drank tins
of cold Coors beer while my brother and I sipped tins of
Sprite or 7-up. Lightening bugs danced in the close
darkness while crickets sang to the tune. After a clip
the porch visible radiation came on and a card game would emerge for
the work forces to play. My female parent and Mrs. Tailor would remain at
their seats to speak or portion formulas. Forest and I
shared the duty of acquiring cold beer from the
kitchen maintaining all satisfied. On one juncture I asked
to fall in the game. Surprisingly, I was more than welcome ;
Forest was invited excessively but declined. He was more interested
in happening a Mason jar to roll up lightning bugs.
I received a speedy lesson in the fire hook game, & # 8220 ; Five
card draw & # 8221 ; . As fire hook is largely played with hard currency, each
participant & # 8220 ; spotted & # 8221 ; me a dollar, get downing me at three
dollars. I won the first existent manus with a full-house.
An hr subsequently my three dollars was near to a hundred and
I was pronounced the lucky victor. On Sunday after
church I used that money to handle everyone to breakfast.
Leaving the farm to travel back to our little town was
hard for me. I would shout or throw up a dither,
stamping my pess, and declining to go forth. The times that
our household merely stayed for the twenty-four hours, Mrs. Tailor would
voluntary to maintain me over for the weekend and return me
place on Sunday after church. I think she enjoyed my
presence because all of her kids had been male childs.
On occasions when it was impossible for me to remain, Mrs.
Tailor would give me a soothing clinch, and remind me that
following hebdomad we would be back once more. Those words soothed my
discontent and solved any other affair that I suffered.
Mrs. Tailor was to me what adult females on the screen of
magazines are to most immature misss today. I would try
to copy how she walked ; or how she would brush her long
grey hair. I mimicked her words, as if by utilizing them I
would someway be more intelligent, even if I didn & # 8217 ; Ts know
the significance of them. I even copied the manner she dialed the
phone with one of the excess rotary phones. I tried on her
places tittuping about feigning to be Cinderella at the
ball or some other character from a narrative.
Looking back at these memories now, I realize how
I needed to hold those good memories. Subsequently, when my
household was torn in many waies, I depended on these
memories to acquire past the hurting. I invariably tried to
soothe my alcoholic and violent parents by reminding them
of the good times. Sometimes my attempts worked other times
my parent=s didn & # 8217 ; t even seem to care. It was the hope of
the hereafter and being able to reflect upon these memories
that put a smiling on my face when things seemed unwieldy.
I knew that felicity was possible ; I had felt it before.
Those distant but graphic memories were all I had. During
those times, I vowed to do new memories of felicity,
alternatively of have oning out the lone 1s I had.
Person one time told me that felicity came from the
indoors and they were right. I wasn & # 8217 ; t able to be genuinely happy
once more until I found that topographic point inside my bosom and was
comfy with what I found. Simply delighting others was
non a replacement for showing love.