Make a Wish

A series of colorful, flickering candles mounted on top of a beautifully decorated cake. A shiny penny creating a ripple through a bright, clear pool of water. The instance of a shimmer darting across a dark sky. Thousands of tiny seeds dispersing from a dandelion puff and disappearing into the distance. As kids, we looked at these wonders with awe and excitement, waiting impatiently for that time of year when we can blow out our birthday candles, jumping at the chance to toss a coin into a fountain, keeping our eyes wide open for the hint of a shooting star, and diligently scanning the grass for the sight of a dandelion puff . Even when we're older, these same instances, although much less mystical, still create a spark of joy inside us and invoke the same response: we close our eyes, put our hands together, and make a wish.

When I was little, most of my wishes involved gaining possession of something. I would wish for a new Barbie doll, the toy kitchen set I had seen on TV, or a cute puppy. Some of these things (like the puppy) were never quite granted, but very often, I'd end up getting what I had longed for through birthdays, Christmases, or just a moment of generosity from my parents. As I grew older, I stopped wishing for material possessions, and instead my wishes became more around myself, my situation, and how others saw me. I wished to be more popular, to be prettier, for that cute boy to like me. They were usually things that I desperately wanted but had no idea how to achieve. I wished to wake up one day and find that these fantasies had magically come true, but they rarely ever did.

After awhile, I began to find it more difficult to come up with wishes, even though there were many things I wanted which I did not have. Wishing for a material possession seemed too shallow, and even more, I had come to realize that there was not one material possession that could truly make me happy. Wishing for something to change about myself or others seemed futile, as I had realized that these wishes seldom came true. Perhaps the biggest reason for not knowing what to wish for was the fact that I realized that almost everything I had wished for as a child and teenager could have been gained through my own actions. If I wanted a new toy, I could work hard to do chores until I had saved up enough money. If I wanted to have more friends, I could participate in more activities and take the initiative to meet more people.

I have learned that 99% of the time, wishes don't come true unless you actually do something to make them come true. Because of this, "making a wish" means something difference to me now: It is not some hopeless dream that I throw out there, waiting for the day it will come true. Rather, it is a promise to myself, a promise that I will continue to work hard to get what I want. I don't wish for something unless I whole-heartedly want it and am willing to make the effort to achieve it. Making a wish is one way to remind myself of who I am and my goals and values, and to re-motivate myself to continue to chase my dreams.