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Essay / A personal account of Disneyland, the happiest place on Earth
“The happiest place on Earth” I could name a million gifts that have been incredibly meaningful to me: an electronic device given by my parents, a book given to me by my friend, or even a pair of old ballerinas from my good cousin. However, the gift that had the most resonance with me and my childhood memories was my trip to Disneyland in Anaheim, California, when I was seven years old. Have you ever been to Disneyland? Yes, “the happiest place on Earth”, with its magical castles, cotton candy princesses and electric light parades? Oh, and don't forget their millions of exhilarating rides! Well, this trip wasn't so big because of how many rides I went on or how many princess autographs I collected, but because of the sacrifices my family spent just so I could be there. Say no to plagiarism. Get a tailor-made essay on “Why Violent Video Games Should Not Be Banned”? Get an Original Essay Most people have been to Disneyland and probably went there before they were six years old. Some children I know even ventured into this dazzling place when they were four or five years old. It was different in my case. When I was a kid, I didn't have the same access to Disneyland as other kids. For what? Well, I didn't live near a Disney park and I didn't even live in America. Instead, I was “trapped,” as my five-year-old self thought, in the middle of the lush islands of the Philippines. Specifically, I lived in the smoky, traffic-clogged capital of the Philippines: Manila. In my little “world”, the magic of Disney was only present through toys or the television screen. Even at that, I was in love with Disney movies and princesses, especially Ariel from “The Little Mermaid.” These princesses, fairies, and sword-fighting princes heightened my expectations of “the happiest place on earth.” However, over the years, I have only been able to watch Disneyland from afar, through movies and online videos; sometimes, if I was lucky, I dreamed that I was there and met Aurora or Ariel. I knew my dream of going to this beautiful theme park was far from coming true. My family was connected to the Philippines and had been trying for more than a few years to acquire a visa, just to venture (maybe even as a tourist) to America. But my little heart held a sliver of hope that we would soon have a visa and that as soon as we arrived in America, I would be able to visit the magical park. Soon my wish came true! After trying over five times (my mother making a total of thirteen tries and me seven tries) to get a visa, we were approved as tourists and were scheduled to fly on March 3, 2010. I was seven years old. and a year. aged one and a half years. During the trip to Manila International Airport, my heart was pounding and my thoughts were swirling around me. Is this really true? Am I really going to America? Does this mean I will be able to go to Disneyland? As we boarded the plane, my heart beat faster and faster, almost beating out of my chest; and my thoughts were clustered like a hurricane, its powerful “breath” trapped in my own mind. The situation got worse when we sat in our designated seats and buckled our seat belts. For almost the sixteen hour flight, my brain kept returning to the series of questions I asked myself as I drove to the Manila airport. Other than that, I would sleep. Even at that, I wouldn't be surprised if I actually dreamed of the theme park itself! Finally, our plane.”