Narrative Essay Examples

Narrative essays can be quite long, so instead of a full length example of an entire essay, so a few examples of the beginnings of essays will suffice. The first excerpt from, Playground Memory, has very good sensory details. Looking back on a childhood filled with events and memories, I find it rather difficult to pick on that leaves me with the fabled warm and fuzzy feelings. As the daughter of an Air Force Major, I had the pleasure of traveling across America in many moving trips. I have visited the monstrous trees of the Sequoia National Forest, stood on the edge of the Grande Canyon and have jumped on the beds at Caesars Palace in Lake Tahoe. However, I have discovered that when reflecting on my childhood, it is not the trips that come to mind, instead there are details from everyday doings; a deck of cards, a silver bank or an ice cream flavor. One memory that comes to mind belongs to a day of no particular importance. It was late in the fall in Merced, California on the playground of my old elementary school; an overcast day with the wind blowing strong. I stood on the blacktop, pulling my hoodie over my ears. The wind was causing miniature tornados; we called them dirt devils, to swarm around me.
Christmas Cookies

The second of the two narrative essay examples is an excerpt from Christmas Cookies. Although I have grown up to be entirely inept at the art of cooking, as to make even the most wretched chef ridicule my sad baking attempts, my childhood would have indicated otherwise; I was always on the countertop next to my mothers cooking bowl, adding and mixing ingredients that would doubtlessly create a delicious food. When I was younger, cooking came intrinsically with the holiday season, which made that time of year the prime occasion for me to unite with ounces and ounces of satin dark chocolate, various other messy and gooey ingredients, numerous cooking utensils, and the assistance of my mother to cook what would soon be an edible masterpiece. The most memorable of the holiday works of art were our Chocolate Crinkle Cookies, which my mother and I first made when I was about six and are now made annually.

Writing a Narrative Essay

When writing a narrative essay, remember that you are sharing sensory and emotional details with the reader. Your words need to be vivid and colorful to help the reader feel the same feelings that you felt. Elements of the story need to support the point you are making and you need to remember to make reference to that point in the first sentence. You should make use of conflict and sequence like in any story. You may use flashbacks and flash forwards to help the story build to a climax. It is usually written in the first person, but third person may be used.

Narrative Essay
Attitude Is Everything Jerry was the kind of guy you love to hate. He was always in a good mood and always had something positive to say. When someone would ask him how he was doing, he would reply, "If I were any better, I would be twins!" He was a unique manager because he had several waiters who had followed him around from restaurant to restaurant. The reason the waiters followed Jerry was because of his attitude. He was a natural motivator. If an employee was having a bad day, Jerry was there telling the employee how to look on the positive side of the situation. Seeing this style really made me curious, so one day I went up to Jerry and asked him, "I don't get it! You can't be a positive person all of the time. How do you do it?" Jerry replied, "Each morning I wake up and say to myself, 'Jerry, you have two choices today. You can choose to be in a good mood or you can choose to be in a bad mood.' I choose to be in a good mood. Each time something bad happens, I can choose to be a victim or I can choose to learn from it. I choose to learn from it. Every time someone comes to me complaining, I can choose to accept their complaining or I can point out the positive side of life. I choose the positive side of life." "Yeah, right, it's not that easy," I protested. "Yes it is," Jerry said. "Life is all about choices. When you cut away all the junk, every situation is a choice. You choose how you react to situations. You choose how people will affect your mood. You choose to be in a good or bad mood. The bottom line: It's your choice how you live life." I reflected on what Jerry said. Soon thereafter, I left the restaurant industry to start my own business. We lost touch, but I often thought about him when I made a choice about life instead of reacting to it. Several years later, I heard that Jerry did something you are never supposed to do in the restaurant business: he left the back door open one morning and was held up at gunpoint by three armed robbers. While trying to open the safe, his hand shaking from nervousness, slipped off the combinations. The robbers panicked and shot him. Luckily, Jerry was found relatively quickly and rushed to the local trauma center. After 18 hours of surgery and weeks of intensive care, Jerry was released from the hospital with fragments of the bullets still in his body. I saw Jerry about six months after the accident. When I asked him how he was, he replied, "If I were any better, I'd be twins. Wanna see my scars?" I declined to see his wounds, but did ask him what had gone through his mind as the robbery took place. "The first thing that went through my mind was that I should have locked the back door," Jerry replied. "Then, as I lay on the floor, I remembered I had two choices: I could choose to live, or I could choose to die. I chose to live." "Weren't you scared? Did you lose consciousness?" I asked. Jerry continued, "The paramedics were great. They kept telling me I was going to be fine. But when they wheeled me into the emergency room and I saw the expressions on the faces of the doctors and nurses, I got really scared. In their eyes, I read, 'He's a dead man.' I knew I needed to take action." "What did you do?" I asked. "Well, there was a big, burly nurse shouting questions at me," said Jerry. "She asked if I was allergic to anything. 'Yes,' I said. The doctors and nurses stopped working as they waited for my reply. I took a deep breath and yelled, 'Bullets!' Over their laughter, I told them, "I am

choosing to live. Operate on me as if I am alive, not dead." Jerry lived thanks to the skill of his doctors, but also because of his amazing attitude. I learned from him that every day we have the choice to live fully. Attitude, after all, is everything.

Sample essay Write a story ending with, I never saw her again after that. The gaunt figure that inched its way slowly towards the medicine counter looked old and haggard. Her dreary-looking outfit did nothing to conceal her bleak and depressing demeanour. Anyone who looked at her would have thought she carried the worlds burdens on her shoulders. Quietly, she sat on one of the chairs and waited patiently, like the rest of us, for her number to be flashed on the digital screen. I was rattled. I knew I had seen her somewhere before a younger, happier version. There was no way I could be wrong. Like an arrow released from its bow, the buried and forgotten memories pierced my heart with an unknown intensity. It had to be Mary Anne, my best friend in secondary school. Then again, this person looked old, much too old to be 29. Anyway, I summoned enough courage and went towards her. Hearing my footsteps, she looked up slowly. The flash of recognition in her eyes told me I was not wrong. It is you, Mary Anne Danker, is it not? She nodded her head silently as if embarrassed. Hello, John? You are looking good. Her remarks reminded me of how beautiful she had been once. Mary Anne had been the school beauty. Everyone had admired her for her looks, her brains and her beautiful character.

Many had said, rather enviously, that God had worked overtime with her making her one of his masterpieces. One day, Mary Anne had stopped coming to school. Devastated, I had gone to her house, only to find it all locked up. Checks with neighbours proved futile. No one knew where the Danker family had gone and why they had left so suddenly. Taking a seat next to her, I wondered what had happened to the ravishing beauty I had once known. Why did you leave so suddenly, Mary Anne? Why? She looked at me nervously, clasping and unclasping her hands in her lap. I could sense that she was rather reluctant to talk, reluctant to expose a part of her life which had probably caused her a great deal of pain and suffering. A prolonged silence ensued. Finally, she inhaled deeply and started telling me her story. Her mother had been diagnosed with endstage cancer and there was nothing the doctors could do. They said that she had only three months to live. Her father thought it best to return to their hometown, to let her live in peace in the surroundings she had grown up in. Her father, devastated by his wifes death, started to neglect his own health and three months later, he too died of a broken heart, leaving Mary Anne in the care of relatives. Tears rolled down Mary Annes cheeks as she related the difficult years with her aunt. The old widow treated her badly, forcing Mary Anne to quit school and to work as a dishwasher in a restaurant. The cruel old lady often beat her, and her cousins, jealous of her beauty, were more vicious than their mother. Now that the aunt was old and suffering from cancer, her five children had deserted her when they realised that she needed special care. Despite her aunts ghastly treatment of her, Mary Anne felt sorry for her. I cannot leave her. She has no one else, she said. I have promised to take care of her till the end of her life. I looked at Mary Anne and saw her goodness. Instead of seeing a gaunt and weary figure, I saw an amazingly beautiful human being. My heart went out to her. Just then her number was flashed on the screen. She got up and collected the medicine which, I understood, was for her aunt. Never had I felt so helpless and wretched. Her story reminded me of something my late grandfather used to say, Life is like an onion: You peel it off one layer at a time, and sometimes you weep. Before leaving, Mary Anne turned and smiled sadly at me. I never saw her again after that.

Narrative - The Race

One of my numerous running T-shirts reads Youve got to want it. That seems to be everything out here and frankly, I just dont seem to want it badly enough today. My legs are finally healthy; theres no major joint, bone or tendon problem anymore. But mentally I am weak. I am breaking down. I am running too slowly. And its all happening too fast. The first half mile I am solidly boxed in. Elbows flying everywhere, I swivel my flailing body searching for my rhythm, trying to find my place in the pack. Damn the starter and his refusal to give us a better starting slot. The first 400 meters is a solid mass of sprinting girls and I am stuck squarely behind the ones who are slowly beginning to realize just how long 3.1 miles is. A spike claws at my foot and I shove to move forward. The mulch path narrows even further and as we turn away from the crowd of spectators, we move out into the heart of the race. We surge uphill, downhill, around the pond, over the boardwalk, up the hill again, and around the pole. Our muscles churn, our breathing intensifies, a...

Personal Narrative- Marriage Proposal

As most American girls, I have grown up dreaming of my wedding day. I pictured myself in a stunning, white gown, standing next to someone who resembled Ken, the male Barbie. I would vision a crowd of friends and family that were there to see me enter into a never ending fairytale. For some reason, I always left the most important part out. Which is, having the man that God created just for me ask me to marry him. I experienced a life defining moment on September 21, 2002. That was the day that John, also known as the most perfect person in the world, asked me to marry him. The weather that day was so nice that it forced us to skip class and spend the afternoon sitting on the berm. (The berm is the hill next to MSC-3.) I did notice that Johns smile was a little wider than normal, and I assumed he was up to something. I had no idea what he was about to do though. When he asked if he could give me a foot massage, I was positive that something was about to happen. I went along with him, anxious to see what he had in store. About twenty minutes pasted before he casually asked what was hanging in my dorm room window that was facing by back. When I turned to look at my third floor window I read a banner that asked, Will you marry me? Wow! I was in shock. When I turned to look at John he had pulled the ring out of his pocked and pushed it towards me. He anxiously waited for an answer while I sat there speechless. He finally interrupted the chaos that was going through my mind by saying, Well? I stumbled across the words, Of course. That was such a great day. I knew, without a doubt, that this was the man that I am suppose to marry. This is the man that I will grow with, spiritually, emotionally, and physically. Praise God for sending such a wonderful person into my

Personal Narrative- Christian Apologetics

Two weeks of this past summer rank high as some of the most rewarding times of my life. Next to my salvation, the experience has become an important turning point of my youth. This experience changed my worldview into a biblical perspective, and strengthened my faith in the Lord. For the first time, I was on my own, flying cross-country to spend two weeks in Colorado, not for a vacation I might add. I was to attend a Christian apologetics course sponsored by Summit Ministries. The coursework was grueling, intense, and mind stretching. My living quarters were a small, rickety, 100 year old (and counting) hotel with paper thin walls shared with 99 other students. I left my sheltered home-school and was introduced to the modern, secular world of weird people, graphic videos of abortion, and the persecution of Christians in Sudan through science, history, theology, and philosophy. We were taught about the chain reactions that develop in a nation caused by unwise decisions, and looked at problems our country faces today and studied them using the Bible. Many knowledgeable Christian professionals fed us their studies and wisdom taught by the Bible. A former Mob boss gave his moving testimony, and an outgoing evangelist who witnessed to Michael Jordan, presented us with arguments and strategies to combat false religions, yet be effective witnesses. Those two weeks were intense, mentally and emotionally, and I got a taste of the real world. Now I often think about my generation, and if it is truly ready to undertake the leadership of our great nation. Many are blind and sinking in the bog of humanistic and atheistic views of todays society, and will not be ready when the torch is passed on to them. I want to be ready. I want to be prepared to undertake leadership and begin a transformation that the will occur when Christians take a stand. I have never felt the same, and I know that last summer was one awesome experience I will never forget.

Personal Narrative- Basketball Injury

As a kid, I always admired the basketball as a game. I always looked forward to seeing the crowd behind my team and wanted to grow up to be a superstar in basketball. I had not discovered the Lords intent about the situation until sometime in senior high school. God didnt want me to playbasketball and I asked him shortly after the tragedy, Lord, is it only now you tell me this? I learnt how to play organized basketball at the age of twelve and from then on, I had just worked on my speed, agility and endurance in the game. In my first year of high school, I anticipated the game very much. I remember coming out with the team on several occasions to practice, and it was almost the best way to flaunt my skill. It was not long after wards that I started off practicing with the team that I met my fate. Never had I guessed that I would be laid on the sick bed as a result. WE had a game on that day, and the team came out to practice as usual. Almost like a freshman in college, I was just trying to make my dominance felt on the team, just like any singer would do on concert auditions. I got jabbed in the belly while in mid-air by one of my teammates and it was the jab I would not forget. I was conscious all the while, with my stomach split inside my tummy. You can imagine the pain. I was immediately attended to, but my case needed a first class surgery. I would not want to burrow too deep into the past, but this event would prove to have changed my life forever. The propensity I had towards the game had reduced by a sufficientquantity. This is probably the worst thing that has happened to me in recent years. I have had to deal with this personally, but the fact still remains, I didn't