Blizzard Analysis

I’ve made it my mission that whatever I do, it would come from the heart because the greatest gifts comes from within. The winter of 2013, my mother and I gave our old coats to a homeless family sleeping inside a bank. Their bodies trembled on the cold tile floor as they tried to fall asleep. I remember it being midnight because there were no cars nor people on the streets of this cold winter night. They tried to make the best out of what they had which wasn't plenty. Feeling sorrow for the pain they’ve endured, my mother and I traveled back to our home and gathered items such as coats, socks, shoes, and blankets we no longer thought were useful to us. Supplying this family with the gift of warmth was the greatest gifts of all because it provided a cozy

This past summer, I acquired an internship at Baldwin and Lyons, an insurance company in Indianapolis. Every Wednesday during my internship, a couple of employees and I would participate in a prodigious community service project, Meals on Wheels. Throughout the three months that I worked at Baldwin and Lyons, I got acquainted with some of the individuals whom we delivered to. These inspiring individuals were so grateful and appreciative that we took time out of our day to volunteer to do such a service. One elderly woman who we delivered to would sing to us as she came to the front door “good meals, good meals, good meals.” She is one woman that I will never forget. First going into this, I was elated knowing I was I getting out of the

“Blizzard,” by David Ives, is truly a mysterious thriller with many questions to be asked after reading the play. The play does not seem to add up due to it ending without a real answer since the readers never find out if Salim and Natasha killed Joe and Sandy and if they were imposters. We also don’t know what happened to Jenny and Neil after the lights dim. They possibly could have been killed by Salim and Natasha as well. The questions of, what actually happened? And who did it, are prevalent in this play and causes an uproar of emotions to the reader. Although this play was concise and short, it was very compact and strong.

Over the summer I will be working with an organization called Sacred Road, which is on a Native American Reservation in Yakima, Washington. Sacred Road was started by Chris and Mary Granberry, a couple from Alabama who moved to the Reservation in 2003 to serve the struggling community there. When they moved there, one hundred percent of the homes on the reservation were affected by alcohol/drug abuse, and the average life expectancy is 40 years old. Sacred Road works with members of the community to rebuild homes, counsel teens, and run a children's care center, along with starting a church. Since the Granberry’s have moved in, the average life expectancy has increased, the suicide rate has dropped immensely, and the amount of thefts

The article “Black Blizzard” from Scholastic Scope describes about the Dust Bowl and how people survived in the 1930s. Dust storms happened when big gusts of wind picked up dirt and dried up soil, blew across the region and destroyed property and lives. Hundred of these storms went through Oklahoma, Texas, Kansas, New Mexico and Colorado. In the early 1900s, families moved to the Great Plains to farm. But they dug up the grasslands, so when a drought occurred, it was so dry that the dirt started to blow away. Farmers had no money because they couldn’t grow crops and they were forced to move west. These farmers went to California, looking for jobs and food along the way. It was tough for a lot of people because there weren’t enough jobs or

I don’t know if I would have ever decided to volunteer at a shelter in St Paul if it wasn’t for this assignment; I am very thankful for this

On a blazing hot summer early morning with the city traffic roaring! And the hot sun blazing, birds chirping and the smell of fresh green grass. Me and my family were packing and getting ready for our yearly powwow trail trip. My mooshum and kokum were they’re usual selves laughing and cracking jokes, I and my cousins knew they weren’t that funny but laughed at their jokes anyways. After we were all packed and ready we all piled into my kookum’s van and set off to our destination with the hot sun reflecting off the black pavement. The drive to Muskoday reserve was long and tiring, the van was humid and making us irritated, so I decided to roll down my window to let the summer air cool us off, the cool breeze was flowing and the music was booming! A bit later we arrived to our destination with our eyes popping taking in all the scenery around us, mind you this was our first time being in the reserve Muskoday. The excitement of being there and meeting new people was over whelming, the anxious feeling of just wanting to run off and enjoy the scenery with my cousins and friends I had met before from the powwow trails we took yearly.

Over one hundred and twenty five years ago one of the most powerful, disastrous, and devastating snowstorms hit the United States with a deadly vengeance. This particular storm was called by a couple of different names such as “The Murderous Blizzard of 1888” and The School Children’s Blizzard”. No matter which name it is referred as, the results after the storm were gravely unimaginable. Without warning this storm killed over five hundred people mostly children. This life changing, painstaking day would hunt families for years to come. This day in history showed a normal routine of chores being done while school children went off to school, a shift in weather, the blizzard, and life after the blizzard.

I spent some of my childhood in rural Pennsylvania, in a town with a population of about 3,000. As one could imagine, we were very close with our neighbors and a good portion of the town. It was a farming town, and there were a number of times when our neighbors asked for assistance with things like harvesting their crops or if they could borrow farming equipment. My family was always there to help when they

Another meaningful experience that sticks out to me is when I regularly volunteered at a children’s homeless shelter in Roxbury, Mass. for two years, and was reminded of the fact that the statistics we hear every day about homelessness are real people – not just numbers. Every child I played alongside,

I am a young child who was in the dust storm and who has experienced the black blizzard. I have many experiences on this day and will be sharing it with you. I will also tell you the day everything we did to get back to normal and live our life again. Another thing i will mention is what was the black blizzard and the way we got out.

My grandmother’s parents immigrated to Johnstown, Pennsylvania from a small town in Poland close to Warsaw. As a young child she spoke two languages Polish at home and English when she went to school or with friends. Life started out very difficult and never really got any easier.. Her life continued to get worse when she lost her husband in a mining accident and her eldest son to a car accident. My grandma used to tell me the stories of their deaths, and how it taught her how strong she really is. She turned the hardships in her life into something beautiful, something joyous, and something sentimental. These moments shaped her into who she is, but they do not define her. These moments that she shares allow me to move on and find something joyful about every situation even if they are not be ideal. When my grandfather passed away my grandmother gave me the strength to look on the brighter side of the situation instead of the sad side.

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Upon arrival, our first activity was to work in the trailer park. While these people were not homeless, they were in quite severe poverty. However, they were nothing like one may expect. One was a very friendly older woman who had worked and gone to college in her younger days but she had been abducted and hurt severely in her twenties. Even though that happen, she was cheerful and had poetic talents. Another was a family whose screen door we replaced because they could not afford a new one. The father was hard working and was made sure all of his children had an education and a roof over their head while the mother cooked and cleaned. Each was doing their part to make the best of their lives. The last was a middle aged couple who needed their trailer badly cleaned. They not only were thankful but they prayed over our group before we left. We a blessing to each of their lives but, they were to ours as

On a snowy and windy night, I was at Barnes & Noble in Green Bay with my friends, Alan and Karina. Christmas music played overhead, the smell of hot chocolate and freshly brewed coffee wafted over, the customers were kind and cheerful, and snow was beginning to blanket the parking lot outside. We were sitting near the cafe wrapping books to support their mom’s school fundraiser. I stared outside and remembered my mom’s warning of the large snowfall that was almost upon us. Around 7:15, the snowflakes were becoming larger and we could barely see outside the window.