Tuyet-Kha Nguyen wins Jim Cresson Memorial Scholarship Award

Tuyet-Kha Nguyen, a recent graduate of Seaford Senior High School, is the 2015 recipient of the Jim Cresson Scholarship, named for the late Cape Gazette reporter.

Nguyen has been a member of the National Honor Society, Business Professionals of America, Technology Student Association and the Yearbook Club. She was the valedictorian of her class and a 2015 Secretary of Education scholar. Although she is academically inclined, writing and literature have always been Nguyen’s greatest passions. She makes time every day to write, whether it is poetry, short stories, or just snippets - as she says, “You never know when inspiration will occur.” She plans to continue publishing her works online while attending George Washington University in Washington, D.C., this fall and hopes one day to publish a novel.

Jim Cresson, a Sussex County native, was a journalist and photographer in Delaware. A Vietnam veteran, outdoorsman, artist, and musician, Cresson had a great love for his country and nature, and a particular fondness for Native American history and culture. He spent the final years of his journalism career writing and taking photographs for the Cape Gazette before dying in an automobile accident in 2005.

The Jim Cresson Memorial Fund Scholarship recognizes a Sussex County senior who, through an essay contest focusing on interests that Jim Cresson shared, demonstrates the character of Jim Cresson. Each year, Sussex County students are invited to apply for the scholarship in the second semester of their senior year.

Administered by the Greater Lewes Foundation, the Jim Cresson Memorial Fund was established by friends of Jim to perpetuate his memory. The following is Nguyen’s winning entry.

Our Serendipity

The lush green grass sparkled and danced under the warm, gentle setting sun. Shades of red and orange illuminated the darkening sky as the sun winked good bye. Crickets began to chirp, signaling the coming end of the day. A gentle breeze brushed through the field, sending a slight shiver up my spine. Suddenly overwhelmed by the cold, I hastily buttoned up my blazer. Content, I continued walking along the dirt trail with my Black Labrador at my side. He gently nudged my leg with his wet nose, edging me forward. I can see he is anxiously awaiting our arrival to our destination. To our serendipity.

After some walking, Midnight and I reach our destination; a quiet place hidden at the corner of the farm. A low hanging tree branch is graciously holding up a brown, aging, homemade rope swing. I sit down on the homemade swing, kicking my feet in an attempt to swing myself. Midnight rushes where I am sitting, with a stick in his mouth. I briefly stop kicking to grab the stick and muster up all my strength to throw it into the sunset. Bemused, I watch as Midnight chases after the stick excitedly. A feeling of melancholy fills the air as Midnight returns from retrieving the stick. “For last time in a while,” I say while petting his head, as he licks my cheek in agreement. This was our serendipity.

When I was five, Midnight and I found our soon to be serendipity on one of our explorations. A peculiar low hanging tree, positioned right next to the pond. Immediately afterwards, I told my father about the tree we had found. He was thrilled. As soon as he heard about it, he instantly ran to get his tools, some rope, and a plank of plywood.

“Come with me.” Holding his newly acquired materials, my father darted out of the house. With Midnight in tow, I ran after my father in utter confusion.

“Where is it?” My father called to me. “Lead the way.”

Perplexed, I lead my father to the low hanging tree. As soon as he caught sight of the tree he began racing towards it. Setting down his equipment, my father began assembling a swing before my eyes.

“Come sit.” He said, motioning to me after he was finished assembling his work. Trembling, I sat on the swing as my leg dangled helplessly. I slid down the seat in a vain attempt to kick the dirt beneath me.

“This swing is a little too big for you. One day your legs will reach the dirt.” My father said while kissing my forehead. “Since you and Midnight found this place together, it is now your special place. Your special serendipity!” Hearing his name, Midnight’s ears jolted upwards in attention.

“Ser--?” I said, feeling the foreign word dance on my tongue. “What does that mean?”

“Do not worry.” My father said. “You will understand soon enough.”

After my father set up the swing, Midnight and I began venturing to “our special place” nearly every day. At first, my legs did not reach the ground beneath me. I sat on the swing begrudgingly waiting for the day I would be able to finally swing myself. Noticing my discontent, Midnight ran to the stick next to my feet. He picked up a stick in his mouth and offered it to me. He wanted to play fetch. Having nothing else to do, I took the stick from his mouth and threw the stick as hard as I could. I watched as Midnight raced after the stick eagerly.

As time went on, I slowly was able to touch my ground under the soles of my shoes. Like clockwork, Midnight and I would come to “our special place” to play fetch and swing on the swing set. Every day I would try to swing myself, little by little, kick by kick. Eventually, I was able to stroke the dirt under my shoes. A first it was just my toes, then the front of my feet, then finally I was able to place my feet flat on the dirt.

“Finally!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. I began to kick my feet back and forth, tossing up the dirt beneath my shoes. Slowly but surely, I was able to swing. Gentle strides became larger strides as I ascended closer and closer to the tree tops. Time seemed to have stopped as I felt my trepidations and fears leave my body. Since then, I began to go to our “secret place” to clear my mind and thoughts.

However, last summer Midnight and I went to our “secret place” for the last time in a long time. He knew I was going to college, and our daily visits to the low hanging tree will substantially decrease. As I sat down on the swing, I began to swing and propel myself forward. I launched myself higher and higher into the skies. I felt my body ascend through the air, as the wind blew through my hair. Midnight barked softly, watching my triumphant glides through the air. My worries and reservations about the next chapter in my life left in an instant. This was our serendipity.