Expectations :: Personal Narrative, Autobiographical Essay

ExpectationsPeople often do things they dont necessarily mean to do. The young Langston Hughes once stood up and pretended to bemuse seen and been touched by Jesus. He did this not because he really dictum Jesus, but because others expected it of him. Although others rejoiced on his behalf, he was ashamed for having lied to them. Similarly, I myself cede undergone an experience in which I acted in a port that was foreign to my nature.At the age of eight, I was living in the Philippines. In my little town of Ilocos Norte, there was a man who was mentally retarded. To me, he was this towering giant who could easily squash little kids like a bug. People broadly stayed away from him, especially children. In fact, just the corporation of him struck terror in their little hearts. As for me, I mostly avoided him. However, there were some teenage kids who made it their job to make his tone miserable.For instance, whenever they saw him, they laughed and pointed at him, as well as taunt ing and work him names. Nevertheless, he never talked back or yelled at them. I used to wonder why he never defended himself. After all, he could easily scare them away with a growl or a mean expression. One day, I passed by him on my way to the store. He was sitting on a chair all by himself clothing the saddest expression on his face. A part of me was tempted to go over to him and breathe in him up. The other part, however, was wary and cautious of a stranger.All too soon, his tormentors showed up. both of the boys went behind him and pushed his chair. Toppling clumsily to the ground, he looked awkward and funny. The teens all started laughing hysterically even though I found nothing remotely humourous about the situation. Nevertheless, when the boys looked at me, I started to laugh as well, pretending to have enjoyed their little joke. However, my laughter died the second I looked into the mans eyes. seeing his eyes shining with tears and hurt, I was horrified at my carriag e. I was ashamed that not only had I laughed at him, but that I had done nothing to help him while he was being taunted and tormented.This retention and its moral lesson have stayed with me ever since. My only excuse for my shameful behavior was that I was young and easily influenced by the