1. Kristina D’Arcangelo D’Arcangelo 1
Professor David DiSarro
English 101
13 February 2013
A Walk to Remember
It was a brisk, windy day in late April. I woke up to my mother yelling at me, “Tina, get
up and make yourself useful for a change!” As usual, I groaned, rolled over, and decided that I
was not going to get up. After a few more unsuccessful attempts to get me out of bed by yelling
up the stairs, my mom finally ran up the stairs like a bat out of hell and opened my bedroom
door. “The whole family is going to walk around the neighborhood and try to raise money, and I
want you to be a part of it this year!” my mother scolded. She was talking about the Walk for
Hunger.
For the previous five years, my mother, father, and older sister, Jessica, had participated
in the 20 mile walk through Boston known as the Walk for Hunger. It is a fundraiser in which
people sponsor “walkers” to walk anywhere from 1 to 20 miles throughout Boston. The
proceeds go to help starving families. This year, my younger sister, Sara, was finally old enough
to participate, and couldn’t wait. She was elated, dancing and singing around the house like a
showgirl. Her eagerness and willingness amazed me. How could an eight year old be so excited
to partake in a long, dreary walk, let alone a fundraiser? This got me thinking, “If Sara’s doing it
this year, I will never hear the end of it from Mom and Dad. Maybe I’ll just walk a few miles.”
I sluggishly shared my thoughts with my mother complaining, “Maybe I can walk five miles or
so, but I’m notdoing the whole thing.” My mother was grinning from ear to ear, and that proud
look in her sparkling light blue eyes, told me I couldn’t amend my decision or back down.

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Unfortunately, the guilt and shame of my younger sister participating in the walk didn’t
hit me until a week before the actual Walk for Hunger. My parents and sisters had already been
throughout the entire neighborhood, as well as their jobs, asking people to sponsor them and
donate money, so I didn’t know where to start. The sponsors will either donate a sum of money
of their choice or donate a certain amount of money for every mile you complete. I figured my
only option was to still walk around the neighborhood and see what happened. I can remember
starting at my neighbor’s house next door, when a ginormous gust of chilling wind blew my
pamphlet out of my hands. I began chasing after my papers thinking, “I knew this was a horrible
idea.” To my surprise, every single house I knocked on donated money. I could not believe that
people were still contributing even after they had already donated to my four other family
members. I also asked some of my teachers, all of which donated as well. Every single one of
my teachers was so proud of me and thought I was doing a very honorable thing. My disbelief
started changing into satisfaction.
Every year the Walk for Hunger is executed on a Sunday. Walkers can begin as early as
six o’clock AM. To my dismay, my mother would not let me out of the house the Saturday night
before. Again, I was regretting my choice to participate and was furious. When the big day
finally arrived, my mother woke me up at 5:00 AM, telling me that it was going to be very cold
and rainy. I put on many layers of clothing shivering, just thinking about the treacherous road
ahead of me.
The 15 minute ride into Boston felt endless, I even looked out the window a few times,
making sure we weren’t lost. When we finally arrived at the starting point, my attitude rapidly

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changed. Everyone was so cheerful and pleasant, “Thanks for coming this year! Anyone
hungry? We have yogurts and granola bars!” Another woman ran up to me and my two sisters,
handing us pins with the project bread logo. “Aren’t you guys something! You know everyone
appreciates you guys coming out. Your parents must be lovely!” The gratitude from all of the
Walk for Hunger directors was warming and overwhelming, especially when she pointed my
sisters and me out in the crowd.
We immediately started the walk. I can remember walking along the Charles River in a
torrential downpour with blustering winds forcing the rain to go sideways. I had a numbing chill
throughout my entire body. I kept forcing myself to think, “You’re doing the right thing. People
die every day from hunger, and the rain is not going to kill you.” I stuck it out, and ended up
walking the entire twenty miles with the rest of my family. To this day, I have never walked that
long aside from the Walk for Hunger. My family alone ended up raising over $2,000, which was
very rewarding.
When I woke up the next day, I was like a concrete statue, unable to bend, let alone
move. My entire body was in excruciating pain. That extremely lengthy walk has shaped me. I
realized that I had taken my comfortable life for granted. Everyday for the next week and a half,
my aching, throbbing body was a constant reminder of how fortunate I am to have a roof over
my head and food on the table. I am lucky to have such great parents to support me and push me
to become a better person. If it wasn’t for them, I would have never done the Walk for Hunger
or probably any other fundraiser. I also recognized the importance of community service. As a
family we now partake in many other charitable events. Every year we still participate in the

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Walk for Hunger, as well as stock shelves at the local food pantry, organize the Council of Social
Concern auction, and take part in Comcast cares day, which is a day people volunteer their time
to clean parks and clean and repaint boys and girls clubs. Without community service, the death
rate would tremendously rise. Whenever I need a little reminder I just think of my bone chilling,
painfully sore body, and think to myself, “I could be that uncomfortable everyday, but
fortunately I am not.” It takes courage and devotion for someone to give up their own time and
money for a needy person; but if you put yourself in someone less fortunate’s shoes your mind
would change too. At first, I thought 20 miles was unbearable, but after accomplishing it I
realized that starvation was much more intolerable than walking.