Some days it feels as if everything, everyone, and the entire universe are all against me. My emotions tumble out and roll off my body with anger, sorrow, and frustration. I feel as if I tried so hard to do everything right, yet, in the end, it doesn't matter. There is nothing I can do. My heart tells me to scream and pound at the wall behind me with my fists clenched, yet my head makes me lean back, close my eyes, and whisper, "Some things are just outside of my control." When I've repeated these words enough times, they finally sink in and the rapid beats of my heart slow into a sense of calm. I finally let the peacefulness wash over me like a coat of rain and accept that I cannot control everything; no matter how hard I try.

  Life's a roller coaster, filled with ups, downs, and moments of joy and terror. But that's what makes life, life. We cannot control all the feelings we feel, the responses we get, or the problems we face. Since the time I can remember, I've learned there is an outside force, someone bigger than life that watches over me and controls most things. God has given me life and so therefore, who makes the creation; controls it. It's not that I believe I am a puppet but I do believe that some situations are made where I cannot alter or change them. I can't stop that one girl from glaring at me, I can't stop the flutter in my heart when I see that certain person, and I can't stop the events that unfold before me. All I can do is breath and make the most of what I have.
  

   One event that stands out to me the most is when I was volunteering at at a nursing home. It may sound clique, but I fell in love with everything and everyone there. The residents seemed to be filled with sweetness, the employees and managers always had a smile to give out, and even the pets were bursting with joy and energy. It was a place that made me want to get up in the morning and help others. Every time I entered through the lobby door my heart seemed to expand and I adored it. Yet there were moments when I yearned to reach out and do more, but it was way beyond my abilities. One of the ladies there, Mrs.Audrey, was the brightest person I'd met in a long time. She was a rainbow in the form of a person. Every time I went to visit her she'd be making jokes, smiling, and laughing. Then suddenly things started to go downhill. Her Alzheimer’s disease seemed to take over her. Her daughter couldn't visit her since she was also ill and Mrs.Audrey had no one else left. Her rainbow personality shifted into a rainstorm. Every week I'd see her eyes moist with tears while her mouth trembled and her words seemed to shake. I tried to make Mrs.Audrey see the positive side until one day when I went to see her and she said to me, "I love your music. It's so beautiful." At first I was confused, I wasn't a musician and she knew that. I replied hesitantly, "Mrs. Audrey, I'm a volunteer." She looked at me, smiled and repeated, "I love your music. It's so beautiful." At that moment I realized she didn't remember me. I looked closely at her face and noticed the changes from when I first met her. Her eyes seemed sunken into her head, her mouth curved downwards, and her face looked so frail I was scared to touch her for I thought she might break. I took a shuddering breath, hid my shock, grinned back and walked out. That was the last time I saw Mrs. Audrey.
  

   The manager emailed me suddenly, saying a new rule had been placed and all volunteers had to be eighteen to work at the nursing home now. She told me they'd reserve a spot for me for when I became eighteen but until then there was nothing they could do. I swallowed the lump of disappointment in my throat and replied with a quick thank you, but all I wanted to do was shriek at the unfairness of my situation. So I did the second best thing; I moped. I lay tangled in the purple sheets on my bed staring at the purple ceiling as if an answer was written in the blank walls above my head. I waited for some type of miracle, like the ones that are always mentioned in books, to occur. I waited for some symbolic concept to pop into my head or my parents to come in and give me a meaningful message on how it'll all turn out okay. None of this happened. I guess that I had finally realized that I wasn't in control of my situation and it sucked. I couldn't make Mrs.Audrey’s Alzheimer’s disappear. I couldn't make her lips stop trembling or her eyes stop watering. I couldn't fix her and it felt horrible. My thoughts were suddenly interrupted by my sister peeking into my room and saying, "Dinner. Hurry up."
  

   I groaned, rolled off my bed, and dragged my heavy feet down the stairs. I guess I was being a bit more dramatic than needed because my little sister stared at me with a weird expression. "What's wrong with you, you know besides the usual." I rolled my eyes and muttered, "I can't work at the nursing home anymore because they have these new rules." She kept staring at me like it wasn't that big of a deal and said, “Just go work at another nursing home." Then she skipped down the stairs ahead of me and I stood on the carpeted steps realizing I'd just got my miracle moment; even though it wasn't nearly as grand as people make it out to be.
  

The next day, I grabbed my iPad and snuggled up in my favorite corner of the couch. I searched through nursing homes near me, made calls, and finally picked my favorite one.
  

Sitting in the car, I smiled all the way until we reached the nursing home. It was weird almost, I hadn't saved Mrs.Audrey, I hadn't even talked to her, but somehow it felt as if this was the next best thing. It felt like one of those eureka moments. I couldn't control or alter what had happened and strangely that was okay. But I could make the most of what I had and really, what more could I want.