<p>Hi, my name is Cody Beckius. I was wondering if you'd give me tips on my essay:</p>
<pre><code>As a young child, I watched my mother struggle with narcotics abuse and her battle to overcome her various addictions. It caused grief in my family, my parents were constantly arguing over my mother's habits. My father's repeated attempts to help her went unrecognized. As I was playing in the front yard one afternoon, a brown van pulled into our driveway. My mother came out of the house and started piling boxes into the back of the van. I didn't know what was happening and it left me quite confused.
After every object in our home was loaded into the van, my mother told me to buckle up in the back seat while she went and got my brother from inside of the house. As I sat down in the seat, I saw my father's car enter the driveway. With tears in his eyes, he asked my mother what she was doing. She told him, that after five years of marriage, she was leaving and was taking my brother and I with her. My mother got into the passenger's seat and a churlish looking man started the engine. As I glanced out of the window, I saw my father standing on the porch of our home. I will never forget the look in his eyes as we drove down the street, leaving him and happiness behind.
It was this moment, that my mother's substance abuse would grow to have no boundaries, and show me the consequences of actions. For a number of weeks, our small family moved around to different homes, staying in garages and cheap motel rooms, while my mother fed her drug habit. I was forced to take care of my eight-month-old brother who suffered from various health conditions, attributed to my mother's drug problem. I was no longer four-years-old, I was an older sister and a caretaker of my twenty-four-year-old mother.
It was one night, sitting in a cheap motel room when I asked a babysitter, by the name of Joanne to read me the heavy book that was in a dresser drawer. Joanne took the book out of the drawer and started reading. "In the beginning, God created the heaven and the earth." Those ten words, changed my life. Before that moment, I knew of no God. I knew of no savior. I listened to every word and devoured every meaning. From then on, whenever Joanne would watch my brother and I, I would ask her to read me the book that interested me so very much.
After the divorce between my mother and father was final, I went to live with my father. It was decided by the courts that my brother would stay with a foster family, since my father or mother did not have the resources to take care of my brothers medical needs alone. This was a major blow to our family structure, as it hurt me very much to loose my best friend. On February 28, 1995, two weeks after my sixth birthday, my father called me inside to talk to me. My father sat me down at the small kitchen table in our apartment, and told me there was something I needed to know. That morning, my brother had passed away from health complications. As any old sister would, I went into a state of shock and depression.
After my brothers death, I was put into counseling. After a number of weeks, I remembered the large book with gold lined paper, tucked away in the motel dresser-drawer. I felt the need to have that comfort that book once gave me, and I asked my father to find one just like it. My father smiled and told me he would see what he could do.
The next day, I had a Bible in my small hands. I remember smiling for the first time in months, and asking my father to read it to me before bedtime. I would have never thought that when I had taken that mysterious book from the drawer for the first time, that it would have changed my life as much as it did. Though it took a great deal of tragedy and sorrow to get me to where I am today, I am thankful for the day I asked Joanne to read me The Bible, as it as shaped who I am today.