frame the pond in which little ducklings cheap and splash the water with their small‚ feathered wings. Two friends sit and talk‚ one shares Psalm 27:10 with her friend. Her name is Riki Wyant‚ and she is my hero. A hero doesn’t have to be someone like Superman of Martin Luther King Jr. Riki‚ as both my youth group leader and friend‚ has taught me how just a few simple words and actions can positively impact so many lives. Her unconditional love‚ selflessness‚ and dedication is the sun in the thick of
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Growing up with my mother‚ who was white and Peruvian‚ and her side of the family was damaging when it came to understanding my Black heritage and also understanding how to take care of my Black body. My mother always had my hair in braids because she didn’t know how to take care of it‚ whenever it was out my white family members would always play with it and call me a lion‚ my cousins called my braids ghetto‚ and I just remember laughing along with them‚ pretending like their words didn’t effect
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It was a very calm and peaceful night out on my porch. I thought to myself it hasn’t been this quiet out since that annoying red chief was born. He’s like a pest of angry gnats that won’t go away. Welp off into the house I go to get ready for bed. I shower and put my pajamas on and get ready to lay in bed when I suddenly realized I had left my phone out on the porch. I got up in a hurry to get it because I heard there was going to be some slight rain tonight. As i’m back on the porch. I spotted
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This journal is…a fiddle to be played upon. Jot down the first thing and run‚ though it doesn’t even make sense; it’s probably not even a word in existence. No rules‚ no laws‚ just literary license. Re-visit your fiddle in case you forget how to play. The journal had a house it lived in‚ and its own lock with its own drawer. The owner of it was a little girl with a mother and father and pool. Her mother used to have…a green bathing suit she never wore‚ even when it was hot. Her house had a shed in
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me‚ my name is Pooja. I want to say a few words in memory of my grandfather. On December 17‚ 2001 my mom and myself immigrated to CA for a better prospect. From that day till his last breath my grandfather took up the responsibility of being a father figure to my brother Raj and I‚ since our father passed when we were young. Papa was the best gift given by God to my family and me. He meant everything to us and every moment I cherished with him was Priceless. Since the 4th grade till now‚ my Papa
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Family Unit Essay What I have Learned When I think of the word “Family”‚ I take in everything from my life to think of an answer. My definition of family is anyone who will be there for you through the rough times. They don’t necessarily have to be blood related‚ though this is the common thought when thinking about family‚ but they just have to be there for you. The official definition of family is the most basic unit of civilization in organized life. Experts define family in two ways. The first
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Essay about ME I was not thrust into this world with a silver spoon in mouth nor born with amazing talents wired into my DNA. No‚ instead I was given two amazing role models who have taught me hard work really does prosper in this world and that if I really want something bad enough I’m going to have to work at it hard enough. My parents have shown me that by their work ethic and lifestyle. My parents aren’t the only people in my life that have given me gifts that have built me to who I am today;
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Mardi Gras saved Toorie Slito had been sitting in the same chair for hours‚ zoned out staring into the huge orange ball that illuminated his land; his land had been deemed Toorie. Slito himself was a tall‚ slender Toorian; he had strikingly attractive features and a domineering presence. Slito had probing green eyes; the type of eyes that could see inside of one’s soul to their inner most workings. This gave him a huge advantage in any interaction for he could see through anyone to what was really
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design or pattern‚ or something else (as a personality in which high spiritual qualities are manifest). However‚ beauty has been topic of debate in terms of its definition. In order to see what is special about pleasure in beauty‚ we must shift the focus back to consider what is special about the judgment of taste‚ which helps determine beauty in an object. For Kant‚ the judgment of taste claims “universal validity”‚ which he describes as follows:… when [a man] puts a thing on a pedestal and calls
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knight. Or‚ a cunning serpent hoarding a mass of treasure‚ finally to be vanquished by a valiant knight. The vanquishing part is guaranteed. I have never seen dragons that way. (I’ve only just come to realise that this is probably due to the stories my father told me as a child‚ with three dragons in them: one organised and slightly gruff‚ one mysterious and magical‚ one with a paw always raised in greeting — but all very friendly.) When I think of a dragon‚ I think of something wise and ancient
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