昨天已经过去，今天正在进行，期盼明天的到来尚早了些，我能做的就是把握现在，活在当下。我想要努力的去想、去记、去忆，把它深刻在脑子里，因为，错过将不再拥有。
已经过去了1个半小时了，我，包括我的56个同学在内，大家围成一个圈，一直坐在这块铺着油毡的地板上。在场的大部分都已经大三了，再过一年大家就要毕业了，因此，我们想要在这里更久一点的体会我们呆在一起最后的时刻。
这个巨型大圈是我们学校每年都会举行的传统项目：象征着告别。这个传统项目即是为期3天的舞会。头天晚上，我们聚在一个用彩线编织而成的巨型大球周围，每一个人在这个过程中都有机会细心感受每一场合唱演出带给他们的意义。而最出彩的要属这个巨型彩球了。游戏玩法是这样的：首先由第一个大三学生开球，讲述一段自己的经历或者故事，然后把球抛向对面，给下一个人，下一个人继续讲完他的故事然后再抛给另一个人，依此类推（有点儿中国式击鼓传花）。很快，男孩儿们会惊诧于舞会上绚丽的合唱团美声和气势磅礴的舞蹈；女孩儿们高声尖叫，或者是为了看到心中的“天神”激动兴奋，或者是要告别学校的兄弟姐妹，不经意间，在这个圈子里就编织出了一张美丽的网。
到处都悬挂着长度不等颜色不一的电线，一些简简单单的悬挂着，一些与其他线错落交织。你用力击打彩球，对面总有人会给予回应。你把彩球抛得越高，周围的人也会与你同在。这也是合唱团里最深刻的体会（当你独唱的时候，背后所有的人都在用自己的声音陪衬着你，让你更出色，同时又不乏美感）。当你需要帮助的时候，总会有人伸出援助之手；当奇迹出现的时候，其他成员都会同你一起分享。
看着这样生动的场景，我想起了第一次参加合唱团的一幕。8岁的我也是坐在类似于现在的地板上，看着高年级的同学和谐的令人眼花缭乱的爵士乐。虽然，那时的我并不了解他们唱的是什么，但是，心里已经有一种翻江倒海的感觉。后来我明白了，很快我也会跟他们一样，和我的爵士手在一起，用我最真挚的微笑激励其他的低年级的孩子们。
当我接到那个球后，我跟大家分享了这个故事。我告诉大家，我在合唱团的日子里就像9年前我第一次观看他们表演时那么兴奋。我的眼睛开始开始模糊，因为，我找不出更好的词语来形容那一刻的心情。大一那会儿，我漫无目的的进入了合唱团的大家庭，现在，作为即将告别这一切的我，再一次的被包围在这个熟悉的温暖的家里。
故事讲完，我擦干眼泪，接过彩球抓住最后一次的机会。当最后一个人讲完了他的故事后，只见合唱团的指挥朝我们走来，将彩球上的线一根根的剪掉。就在此刻，大家不约而同的拉着彼此的右手，形成了一个巨大的圆圈，我们就在这里一直站着，足足有2个钟头，我们送别了礼拜五的晚上迎来了礼拜六的黎明。我努力的想要再次抓住那个“圆圈”，我相信所有的人都会非常想念“我们”的合唱团，都想要拼命的去抓住那些稍纵即逝的美丽。我想要努力的去想、去记、去忆，把它深刻在脑子里，因为，错过将不再拥有。
ESSAY赏析
这篇ESSAY写的非常出色，招生官直接从文章中抓住了重要信息：真诚的激情。申请者一定要切记一点，不要写自己不敢兴趣的话题，因为，如果你不是百分之百对它有足够的了解和认识，相信无论如何都不可能写出让人感动的作品，如：“I went to a foreign country for a week on a school trip and discovered an unbridled passion for global health.”但，显然作者非常非常喜欢合唱团表演，从字里行间就能深刻感觉到。
作者描写了合唱团表演对自己人生的影响。“something inside [her] banged to life”这句就可以清晰的看出来，因为那个时候她还是个8岁的孩子。这个故事不仅仅是为了取悦招生官，更重要的是为了分享给更多的同伴。作者的感情是真的，她在告诉读者倾注于合唱团表演的激情。
“she does not get any more circles”在文章结尾处的一句作者的心理描写，准确的把握住了人物的心理，奠定了文章的感情基调：悲伤、困惑。如果作者转换一下角度，期待将这种热情投入到其他方面并且能够更好的驾驭未来的生活，相信这种积极乐观的结尾会更加合适。但是，像这样真诚坦率的描写，相比那些虚伪的ESSAY更能让招生官信服，因此，在写ESSAY的时候，切忌不要冒险。
参考全文
(22)JILLIAN GOODMAN—“THE CIRCLE GAME”
My butt is flattening on the cold linoleum floor, and I don’t care. In fact, no one in the entire circle of fifty-six people cares an ounce that we’ve been sitting here for over an hour and a half. Most of us are seniors, and we want to suck every last moment from our final circle together.
The giant circle is a Retreat tradition. Every year on the first night of our three-day choreography weekend, we gather around a gigantic ball of rainbow-dyed yarn and every single person gets the chance to reveal what show choir means to him. The magic, though, is in the yarn. It starts out with a senior who says her piece and then throws the ball across the circle, holding on to the end. The next person makes his speech and then throws it again, keeping a loop around his finger. Then the next person speaks and throws the yarn, then the next, then the next—and soon boys are admitting they were intimidated by the beautiful sound and spectacular choreography of the Amazing Technicolor Show Choir, girls are crying over how show choir helped them find God or say good-bye to college-bound siblings, and a beautiful web has developed in the middle of the circle.
There are strands (电线)of all different lengths and color combinations, some lying uncomplicated on top of the web and some interlaced with innumerable others. You tug on your loop of yarn and you can see a person across the way respond. You lift your loop high and the rest of the group lifts with you. That’s the way it is in our show choir. You ask for help and the person across the way responds. Something wonderful happens and the rest of the group shares it with you.
Looking at the web framing the linoleum reminds me of my very first show choir experience. An eight-year-old version of me sat on a floor very similar to this one and gaped at the middle-school show choir’s two-part harmony and dazzling jazz squares. I still don’t know what it was, but something inside me banged into life. For the rest of elementary school I knew that as soon as I made it to seventh grade I was going to be up there with my jazz hands and my thousand-watt smile, inspiring other eight-year-olds.
When the ball comes to me, I tell that story. And I tell everyone that in my sixth and final year on show choir I am just as excited as I was watching them nine years ago. Tears start to make the circle swim in my eyes because it would be impossible to relate the full depth of my feelings in any words that I know. As a freshman, I came into the school socially unsure and was immediately enveloped into this choir universe, and now as a senior crying over the memory, I am enveloped in an embrace.
I dry my eyes and pass on the yarn, clutching my very own piece of my very last web. When the last person has had his turn, our choir director comes around and snips every loop down the middle. We all hold on to the halves in our right hands, drop our lefts, and leave the circle with a part of the line that tied us all together for two hours on a Friday night into a Saturday morning. I use mine to reach back to the circle, to remind me that for an evening I wasn’t the only one caring too much about something as fleeting as show choir. I use it to remember, because I don’t get any more circles.
COMMENTARY
This essay is well written and exemplifies one of the most important qualities that admissions officers look for in applicants: convincing passion. Students should be wary of writing about topics they are not truly passionate about, as it is easy to spot insincerity in cases like, “I went to a foreign country for a week on a school trip and discovered an unbridled passion for global health.” But in this case, the writer clearly loves show choir, and it shines through in her piece.
The author’s story about the giant circle showcases the impact show choir has had on her life. She demonstrates her lifelong devotion to show choir when she describes how “something inside [her] banged to life” when she first experienced it as an eight-year-old. This isn’t just a story she is telling to impress the admissions officers, but one she has also shared with the other members of her show choir. The writer’s emotions are genuine, and they show the reader how passionately devoted she can be to an activity she loves.
While her conclusion—in which she writes that she saved the yarn because “she does not get any more circles”—conveys the depth of her feelings for show choir, it makes the essay end on a sad and confusing note. A more optimistic ending about looking forward to putting her heart into other endeavors and deriving the same sort of life-altering experience from future pursuits would seem more appropriate, but if this is not the case, then it is always better to be honest and candid. While a disingenuous essay may slip by the admissions officer, it is not a risk worth taking.
—Ravi Mulani
