Select Entry- Andrea Nostramo, Age 24

Welcome to our Optimistic Essay category. Here you will find the $1,000 winning contest essay, 5 finalist essays and 15 honorable mention essays and a growing list of hand-picked select essays that readers submitted during our "Why Are You Optimistic About the Future?" contest.

I was immediately drawn to this contest. I love writing essays, and I figured this one would be easy. But it wasn't. I started out by sitting down at my laptop, getting comfortable, and beginning to type, and then it dawned on me. I had no idea what to say. I didn't know whether or not I even had optimism about the future, let alone where it came from. As a twenty-four year-old college student struggling with schoolwork, anxiety, depression, and obesity, I often wondered where I find the tiny shards of optimism and sanity to which I cling so tightly. I never saw the glass as half-full or half-empty. To me it was always both.

Over the week it took me to write this essay, I saw that I was procrastinating but I didn't know why. With less than two weeks to go before the deadline, I felt like something was keeping me from coming up with a good solid idea on which to base my essay. Then my aunt's father passed away. His name was Arthur, and he was like a grandfather to me. He was more optimistic that anyone I'd ever known. He spread joy and love wherever he went, simply because he could. He was infinitely selfless. It was his goal to make other people happy. When he would come to my house for our annual Thanksgiving dinner, he would sit with me on the couch and smile and laugh so genuinely, and he would put his hand over mine, and say in his coarse voice, "You are such a beautiful person." And never once did I doubt him.

I believe I was meant to wait until after he'd passed away before finishing my essay, so that his life and memory would he me find my own optimism, my own hope. I realized I was feeling guilty over not truly being as optimistic as I wanted. I suffer from anxiety more than anyone I know; I'm constantly fretting and worrying; I assume people are going to dislike me on sight; I may have a positive opinion of the future, but I wasn't so sure about my future. And then I thought of what I said to Arthur at Thanksgiving, just two months ago, as he and his wife, Ida, were saying their goodbyes. I said, "See you next time!" But there would be no next time. No more stories that went on forever, no more telling me I'm beautiful, no more bumbling unsteadily up the stairs, no more booming voice and solid handshake, no more getting down on one knee and singing, no more Arthur. And I was sad that this man, so much older than I was, had such optimism about the future and I did not, even with all my youth. And I understood, that what really matters is not what you receive from the people you come across in your life, but what you give away. Arthur spread love and joy to everyone he met, and that is the legacy he leaves behind. His optimism and happiness were infectious, and now, after he's gone, his kindness lives on.

After Arthur died, I finished my essay, which further reinforced my theory that I had been meant to delay writing it so that his death, as well as his life, could impact my writing, and thereby perhaps impact someone else. As far as for myself, it is true, I am too anxious and too worrisome, and my self-esteem too low, but I am truly optimistic about both my own future and the world's, because I have faith in people: in people like myself, in people like Arthur, and in people in general. Gandhi once said, "Be the change you wish to see in the world," and I want to pass that sentiment along. I think Arthur would have wanted it that way.*