Example of a Descriptive Essay

A descriptive essay is exactly what it sounds like. It is an essay describing a place, person or experience that uses descriptive language to make the reader feel as if they are experiencing what the writer is describing with their very own five senses. If you can, try and drop the reader right into the middle of the situation you're describing.

When writing a descriptive essay, try and think about what you felt, saw, heard, tasted and smelled. Were you hot, cold, lonely, excited? Can you find better (but still accurate) words to describe those feelings? What about "Sweltering," "frigid," "disconnected" and "elated?" Keep in mind that you want the reader to feel like they're right there next to you.

“Are you ready to talk about it?” Aaron asked as he laid his large, sturdy hand on my quivering knee. My breath left my lungs so rapidly that it seemed to send my head spinning as I exhaled. The dazzlingly bright Christmas decorations of the mall seemed to twinkle their approval as they flashed and danced. I could hardly believe that my best friend of almost five years wanted to have the conversation we had carefully avoided for so long. As I unsuccessfully struggled to regain my composure I could see Aaron’s handsome features soften as he looked at me. That look. I’d never seen it before except in the occasional Jane Austin movie that I was forced to watch with my gushing girlfriends. I hardly dared to dream that it would ever be directed at me. Until now. Perhaps true love wasn’t just an abstract concept confined to books and movies.

Three weeks prior, Aaron and I had had a conversation about marriage as it applied to us. Or at least, I thought we had; we never did say exactly what it was that we were talking about. However, he had finished the conversation by saying that there were a few things he needed to do before we could really have this discussion. All I could do was hope that what we both thought we were speaking about was the same thing. After days of scribbling “love is patient” on every available surface, I called my mother in a panic and told her that I thought Aaron might be about to talk to Papa. I soon resumed my scribbles.

I had no expectations as I flew home for Thanksgiving. As the plane landed with a jolt on the slick concrete, the fidgety butterflies in my stomach danced with joy, though I knew it would be another day before I could see Aaron again. Three months of being apart had been difficult, but God had been so faithful to keep us close. I was sure He wasn’t doing it in vain; He had to have a bigger plan than making us charter members of the “pen pals for life” club. At least that’s what I wanted to believe, down in that dark little corner of my heart where my deepest secrets hide from the often searing light of reality.

As Papa and I ran our errands the next day he announced that he needed a new pair of shoes. I had been anticipating seeing Aaron at our house for the first time; the mall, just wasn’t the right place. Or so I thought. As Papa marched off to the shoe department in search of that perfect pair of brown leather loafers he’s worn for the better part of forty years, I paced back and forth near the agreed upon meeting spot. I couldn’t escape that feeling portrayed so often in movies by the girl who was waiting somewhere to see that “special someone.” If only I could admit that Aaron was my “special someone.” Minutes seemed to turn into centuries until he finally arrived. His long strides sped up as he saw me and when he finally reached me, I found myself wrapped in the tightest hug I’ve ever received.

“Papa’s in the shoe department.” I said, beginning to walk in that direction.

“Oh, I know.” Replied Aaron, steering me toward a bench surrounded by dazzling Christmas decorations. Sitting me down, he laid his hand, rough from hard outdoor work, gently on my knee.

“Are you ready to talk about it?” He asked, eyes sparkling with anticipation.

Unable to speak from sheer surprise I forced my head to nod up and down. Sitting so close to him, I could feel his trim frame shaking like that first tiny spring leaf when a chilly gust of wind attempts to snatch it from the branch. Carefully, he began to explain that I was the only girl he cared about and that he had known for a long time that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with me. He continued, saying that though we’re not ready quite yet, someday he will ask me to marry him. I could hardly contain my overwhelming delight. Just when I thought I would burst for joy, he pulled a small golden jewelry box out from his breast-pocket.

The box’s treasure looked oddly familiar, but I couldn’t quite place where I’d seen it before, until Aaron explained. It was the white gold promise ring with a tiny diamond in the middle of a heart, that his father had given his mother when they were our age. It was his promise to her that he would love no one else; and now they had given it to him to give to me! It felt like my own personal fairy tale had sprung up out of nowhere and filled me with all the joy and bliss that I thought only existed within the confines of romance books and movies. But this was real life; this was my life!

True, innocent love is nothing short of a miracle and sometimes it happens to those of us who least expect it. Yes, Aaron and I have a lengthy road to travel before we’re ready to marry, but we get to traverse it together; every twist, every turn, every joy and pain. It is so comforting to know that no desire or hope is buried too deep for the Lord to see. He knows me inside and out, every corner and crevice, every love and longing. This promise from Aaron is a reminder to me that if I will delight myself in the Lord, He will give me the desires of my heart, just as He promised in Psalm 37:4.