That's the assignment I'm going to have my students do tomorrow. Here's mine:
When I was growing up, I never really liked my name. Nobody else had it and everyone always either spelled it wrong, leaving out the ‘e’, or just called me Stacy, which I hated. Whenever we went to gift shops, I could never find anything with my name on it. Everybody else could get a personalized pen or key chain or mug or something, but not me.
Once when I was in high school, I complained about that to one of my best friends. That summer, when she went to Disneyland, she found an embroidered patch. It was sky blue, and it had Mickey Mouse wearing bright red shorts and those giant yellow shoes. Underneath Mickey it said “Tracy”. My friend pulled out the threads of the letter ‘y’ and stitched it again so that it had my name spelled correctly. When she gave it to me, I couldn’t believe it! It was awesome to finally have something with my name on it, but the fact that my friend went to so much trouble for me was even better.
(Note to fans: six-word memoirs are on the way!)
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