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I find it quite amazing how the people who make the strongest impact on
your life are the ones who pass through briefly. They remind me of fireflies:
Winking by, teasing with their soft glowing bodies. You run after them to try
and capture the light they give off, but before you know it the sun rises,
and the glittering bugs have disappeared. The sad fact is you don't realize
the firefly's soft, magical beauty until they are gone because you were so
busy trying to capture them. Hannah was like a firefly. She was in and then
out of my life before I even knew it.
In eighth grade I had to write a report. It was the biggest one of
the year and it counted for about seventy-five per cent on my grade. My topic
was prostitution and one of the requirements was that I was to have a
three-page interview with someone related to the chosen topic. I had no idea
how I was going to go about finding someone for my topic. After many long
days of searching, and with the report deadline beginning to rear its ugly
head, my teacher came to me with a phone number for a private agency that
specialized in helping young prostitutes with AIDS. Later that night I called
the agency and told them what I wanted. They said that they would ask around
and find someone who was willing to meet with me and talk. The following day
they called me with the address of the agency and a name. Her name was
Hannah and she told me that she would love to be interviewed by me.
I met Hannah the next day. She was a tall girl with green eyes and
long, shiny, straight black hair. She was very pretty except for the fact
that she was abnormally pale and skinny. Hannah was seventeen years old. The
first thing I noticed from her was her grace: she was so tall, but her
movements flowed so naturally. I've always been unusually tall, and I had
none of the grace she had. The very first thing she said to me when I
walked into her room at the agency was, "You have a beautiful height. Be
proud of it! Walk straight and with confidence. Height is a tool of beauty
and you have it."
Hannah and I talked for five straight hours. I took no notes and I
didn't even ask her the questions that I had prepared. We talked like two
normal teenage girls. She taught me how to be graceful and appreciate my
height, which is something no one has ever complimented me on. Without
prompting or questioning she told me the story of her life. Hannah began
prostituting at the age of fourteen having had run away from and abusive
stepfather and an unloving mother. While she talked, her hands never stopped
moving. She always moved them as she spoke, portraying everything she was
saying. Sometimes she would get up and pace, her long legs flowing back and
forth over the dank carpet in her room. When she talked, she let all her
emotions out in one gust of words. Hannah held nothing back. Her story made
me cry. To think that young girls, younger even than me at that time,
found prostitution as a way out of their troubles frightened me. Hannah gave
me a big hug before I left that day. I felt her ribs prominently sticking out
from underneath her shirt when I hugged her back and was afraid to hold her
too hard for fear she would break. When I walked down the hallways and out to
the car where my parents were waiting for me, I stood straight and tall
with confidence and pride. Gracefully, I left Hannah and the agency.
My interview was the best part of my report and I ended up with one
of the highest grades in the class. I owed it all to Hannah. I was so excited
that as soon as I got home I raced to the phone to call the agency to tell
her my good news. Just as my hand touched the phone, it rang. Surprised, I
quickly picked it up. It was the agency. They had called to inform me that
four hours ago, at about the same time I received my report back, Hannah had
died. She didn't have many belongings, but before she had gone to the
hospital, Hannah had requested that everything she had be given to me.
Shocked, I thanked the lady and put the phone back into its cradle. I then,
gracefully, walked into my room and began to cry.
Though I had only known Hannah for one day, she is the one person
that has influenced me and had the most impact on my life. She was exactly
like a firefly, blinking in my life and just as easily blinking out. I think
of how young she was and realize that Hannah could just as easily have been
me. Hannah left me many things: among them were jewelry, clothes, and a
couple of music tapes. I still wear on of the rings she gave me. I never take
it off my left ring finger. The best thing Hannah gave me, besides lessons on
how to be graceful, was her diary. My favorite entry was the one she wrote
about meeting me. She wrote that I was a beautiful young girl with graceful
legs, a building confidence and that I reminded her of herself at my age at
the time. To this day, I always walk straight and stand tall with
confidence and pride. Gracefully, of course.
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