<p>I think I will post my Essay #1, maybe you guys can tell me what you think so I can improve it for my other applications. I really respect all your opinions.</p>
<p>I am not really afraid of anyone plaigarising it because:
1. It is imbedded in the poetry thread.
2. Anyone who copied it would also have to be an Eagle Scout. </p>
<h2>so here it is:</h2>
<p>This past summer was the final time I would go to my local Boy Scout Reservation, Camp Henderson. After an entire childhood of memories at the camp, I had to say goodbye. During the final night, I woke up in the darkness. The air was cold and silent. I reached over my rusty bunk and pushed back the canvass of the tent. I looked out at the dieing embers in the fire pit. Smoke rose in eerie silence, and the soft glow grew dim. As the embers faded away, I saw my days in Scouting doing the same.</p>
<p>Im going to miss this, I really will. I said to myself. I closed the tent flap and tried to sleep, but the damp air would not allow it. Fond memories raced through my head. My mind traveled to the different places Scouting had taken me. I thought of Camp Henderson. Each footprint along its worn paths was another memory. Ten years in Scouting, seven years at Henderson; they went by in a blink. </p>
<p>The following morning, I hiked down from Henderson for the last time. Never again would I walk its muddy trails, or hear the familiar creaking of those rusty bunks. That was the final night I would spend in those ancient tents. It was all over for me. In Scouting, my best days had long passed. </p>
<p>People ask me what I will remember most about my time in the program. Most expect me to robotically point out my Eagle Scout Award. I always say Camp Henderson. After seven years, I can walk every inch of the Camp in my minds eye.</p>
<p>I will always value my Eagle Award, but I know it is just a medal. Some people place a great deal of importance on this medal, and neglect what it stands for. For me, Scouting was never about lavish award ceremonies or bullets on a résumé. Scouting was about making memories. Many disagreed with me. A fellow boy, Jason, had entirely different ideas. </p>
<p>Jason hated camping and his only goal was to become an Eagle Scout. He did so with the absolute minimum of merit badges and campouts. Even as a child, it was as if Jason was on a conveyor belt towards the Eagle rank.</p>
<p>Its best to get it done before high school, so he can move on to other things, his father told me. For him, Eagle Scout was just another box for his son to check. Later in high school, Jason joined another organization and became its State President. Scouting was forgotten.</p>
<p>At the time, I thought Jason had cheated Scouting. As I matured, I realized the truth. Jason was a charlatan, but he only cheated himself. My anger turned to pity. He will never know of Camp Henderson: of its moldy tents and rusty cots. Jason will never appreciate the sadness of a fading campfire. </p>
<p>As my final day at Henderson came to an end, I took away a thousand memories and no regrets. I hope that I can continue to live as I have: compelled by a love of life, not by a personal ambition.</p>