Example Family Story Essays
An Easter Story
It was Easter Sunday, and my big brother would be flying in from Spokane to attend Nonnies annual Easter Brunch. (It was Easter breakfast until brunch became popular in the 70s, and although the menu was still the same, somehow the entire event was upgraded by the new name.) Nonnie had a dining arrangement set up in the sun room overlooking the back yard to taunt us with the hidden Easter eggs. Dangling from tree branches were colorful plastic eggs suspended by festive ribbon, giant rabbits carved from slabs of Styrofoam stood merrily around the patio and on the actual dining table in the dining room sat our seasonal Easter baskets along with the time honored lamb-shaped cake covered in coconut fur peering through M & M eyes.
I arrived first; Nonnie had to make her way from the kitchen to grant entrance through the triple locked security front door. She yelled, "COMING! from the kitchen as if she was an opera singer."
When she finally let me in, I headed straight for the table and started digging through Easter baskets, trying to unearth the few pieces of edible candy, only to be interrupted by her yelling, "Youre going to spoil your appetite!"
I made my way through the living room, enjoying the yearly arrangement of ceramic bunnies positioned on the floor while Nonnie hummed "Here Comes Peter Cottontail" in the kitchen. I joined her as she covered the broccoli with cheese sauce.
"Did you know fondue is making a come back?" I asked, amazed that it ever went out of style.
Nonnie responded, "Oh I love fondue." Our conversation continued, mostly about current events. She couldn't contain her enthusiasm about our new Republican president.
When Brian and my younger brother Scott finally arrived (the plane was fashionably late as usual), I walked out front to greet them. Brian, my big brother with a sense of humor comparable to Jerry Sienfeld, gave me a sideways smile and asked, "Were not going to have to hunt eggs this year are we?"
I nodded my head and laughed, "Oh yeah, were hunting eggs." He feigned disinterest, but I couldn't be fooled. Every year, without fail, he had somehow managed to find the oversized Golden Egg filled with an assortment of coins. Even though the egg contained less than a dollar, it was equivalent to a blue ribbon or a first place trophy. The one who found the egg held the tangible evidence of their vast superiority over their siblings, and every year I was fiercely determined to put an end to Brian's winning streak. Scott, our little brother (and alcohol enthusiast) arrived looking as though he hadn't slept in a week. He wanted to retain his place as the favorite, so he was going to have to suffer through an entire holiday dinner without beer. He and I shared a look, the same look every year, It's mine this year. It's all mine.
As soon as everyone arrived, Nonnie wanted us seated at the table. Each person sat down, and she busily ran around filling plates with yams stuffed into hollowed out orange halves, green beans covered in crisp onions, and fruit salad mingled with marshmallows and walnuts. The fact that I had been a vegetarian for twenty years didn't stop her from serving me a helping of ham and bacon. Just to be questioned later, "Why arent you eating?" She refused to sit down, acting as if she was a waiter that got paid solely on tips. Meanwhile, I glared at Scott, and his restless demeanor revealed he was up to no good. His mind was obviously racing as fast as mine. Luckily, I had the advantage. (Being sober, and all.) I was thinking, If I pushed my way through the kitchen door first, and made it through the garage without getting nervous, I could be the first one in the back yard, and the Egg was as good as mine.
Scott got up to go into the kitchen and I followed, paranoid. "What are you doing in here?" I asked guarding the back door. I forgot that the main threat was Brian, and left him unattended in the sun room. While I wasn't looking, Brian snuck out. It didn't take Scott and me long to figure out what was happening, and the battle was on. I was able to kick a box of Tide laundry detergent under Scott's feet as we ran through the garage, and send him sailing into the washing machine.
I raced out and started grabbing hard boiled eggs with a fervor that looked as though they led straight to the coveted golden egg. Scott was now in the game, and the pressure was really on. Brian's wild desire was betrayed by his confident gait. If I didnt know better, I'd think he didnt even consider us a threat. During the madness I was struck with sudden inspiration: Keep my eyes on Brian and at the first sign of recognition--dive. He wanted the egg, but I didn't think he was willing to risk injury to get it. All the while Nonnie looked on with joy, viewing toddlers dressed in their Sunday best instead of middle aged siblings still fighting over petty change.
After nearly fifteen minutes of searching, it was obvious; the egg was no where to be found. We had scoured that yard, and it simply was not there. Frustrated, we turned away from the hunt and back to each other with puzzled looks on our faces. Hands full of nothing but worthless hard boiled eggs, we were perplexed. We all turned to Nonnie and asked, "Wheres the egg?"
"What egg?" Nonnie questioned cheerfully, coming toward us. "Oh, The golden egg! It was cracked, I threw it away."
"NO!" we yelled in unison, "How could you?" Then, Brian took off running for the garage with Scott and I close behind. Brian picked up the trash can, and just before he dumped the contents on the garage floor Nonnie yelled, "It's not in there! It's in the recycle bin." (Thank goodness Nonnie recycled.) He bent down and started rummaging through the city issued waste receptacle, tossing plastic milk jugs and cans onto the ground as we all looked on in bewilderment. Finally, there at the very bottom sat the irreplaceable Golden Egg. Brian grabbed it and held it victoriously above his head, still the reigning champion.
I threatened, "You had better enjoy it Brother, because your luck
has just run out." With that statement, he realized that he was the
one keeping the whole Easter egg thing going. All he had to do was let
one of us find the egg and it would be over. I hoped he would make the
right decision next year and let me find it.
My Family Story
I was four years old, but I can still remember that day. I am the only daughter and have two brothers older than me. Being the only girl, my dolls were more than my toys; they were my friends. Each one had its own name. The most precious and loved doll was Carlota. Her face was like a party plate; her eyes were like two chocolate cookies rounded by big eyelashes that seemed caramel. She had a big smile that made her cheeks look like two strawberries (What child doesn't want to see a dessert every day), and her dress was blue as the sky. When I held her in my arms, I felt as if she were cotton candy.
My brothers always told me that Carlota was Chucky's sister (the horror movie), but for me, she was a priceless doll that I had --even though she was a rag doll. I didn't mind having a Barbie.Carlota was awesome! I used to leave her on the sofa before going to school. When I came back, she was still there as usual.
One day my mom told me, "Let's go to your aunt's home," I obeyed. I wanted to take Carlota, but I had to help my mom to carry plates. Even though I was so sad, I had to go without her. When we returned, I hurriedly went to the living room to see Carlota, but she was not there! I started getting nervous; I looked under the sofa, but I only saw darkness. I ran fast to the kitchen and looked around, but nothing again. My heart started palpitating. "She couldn't vanish," I thought." Perhaps, I left Carlota in my room." I ran very agitated to the door, which was open. I came in through the door and looked at each one of my dolls expecting an answer to my question: Where is Carlota?
My anxiety got worse. I scanned the floor as a skilled detective --It was unbelievable! I started walking from one side to another trying to find her. My room that is small, at that moment became bigger making the search impossible -- nothing, nothing again! The only person who could help me out was my Mom. When I was going to get out of my room, I heard a weird noise coming from the ceiling. I turned around and looked up; I couldn't move. I felt as if I were a mannequin; my soul was no longer in my body. Until I felt the warmth of my tears, I could breath again. It was then; a thunderous yell came from the deepest of my heart. Carlota was hanging from my lamp! Swinging with the delicate wind of the fan. I couldn't hear anything else; I only remember the big, brown eyes of Carlota looking at me, waiting for me as always.
My Mom came rushing into the room, while my brothers jumped out of my closet like two mischievous ghosts laughing and laughing. When my brothers saw my mom they stopped.
My brother Felipe quickly said, " Don't worry I can revive Carlota." He jumped onto the bed to pull down Carlota, and with his small agile hands he started pushing down on Carlota's chest.
Meanwhile, my brother Javier took a wire and exclaimed, " Keep back!" then he put it on her chest.
My brothers looked at each other as doctors analyzing the situation to give the expected diagnosis, and in one voice they exclaimed, "She is alive!"
What a relief! She was again with me! I was so excited. I couldn't be mad with my brothers; I hugged them. They were my superheroes. My mom, being the witness of the scene, couldn't say anything. My brothers with their blameless and naive face weren't punished.
I still have Carlota in my home. Every time that I go back to my hometown,
I can't resist giving her a hug. I know, I'm not a child anymore, but
how could I forget one of my best friends in my childhood.