I Am A Part Of Her Life

She was upset with me. She didn’t have to be but she didn’t know that. We argued all the way to Youth Group and when we got there, we ignored each other. I wasn’t mad, in fact I was joyful and eager. It was clear, however, that she wasn’t very happy. I felt bad but at the same time I didn’t. Finally, it came. Nick, our leader, called us in for his lesson. I tried hard to fight back a grin as I watched Carmyn strut angrily towards the doors of the church. I went in and stood beside her. She didn’t say a word or even look at me. It was hard not to smile but I pushed through. The lights dimmed down. The first song started. We stood in silence while the people around us began singing and praising. After that the second song came on. But this time, the church sat silently because it wasn’t a song for praise. It was our song.

In the article “Why Are We So Angry” By Dianne Hales she explains why Americans are so angry all the time. Hales feels that “Americans are feeling pushed to the breaking point”. Helplessness and venting are two things Hales talks about, and why people become so angry. I agree with Hales when she says people are angry because they feel helpless; but I disagree about how venting doesn’t help. Hales says venting may make you feel at ease, but that feeling only last for a minute.

One afternoon I was at Mama´s General store buying some provisions and I saw Mama’s little granddaughter Marguerite, who was extremely shy and I had seen her before with her brother when they came to the town. She was quiet, she had been mute for five years after an incident that changed her life.At the age of eight she had been raped by her mother´s boyfriend. Her uncles had killed the man and she had felt responsible for his murder therefore as à result of guilt she went into a mute stage. After I had payed for the provisions, mama had asked me if I need Bailey her oldest grandson to carry my bags, but instead of him, I wanted Marguerite to carry my bags, for a reason. That being said, I wanted to help her break out of her nutshell, and for her to speak again. The moment I saw Marguerite, I knew there was something amazing about her which no other girl had in town. Therefore, I had told mama that I would like Marguerite to carry my bags. Marguerite looked at me as if I was calling her name in a beautiful, tranquil cave that had echoed so softly that It ran so smooth like the wind. Mama and I had exchanged the elderly looks,which Marguerite did not understand by what I had meant, and with mama’s permission it was ok for her to go with me. On the way to my house we had talked about how well she was doing in school but she wasn't talking. She was enticed by the way I was pronouncing her name and would stare at me. She was shocked that I choose her to assist me out of everyone in the town. The walk to my house was overall quiet, she was mute all the way, shy, nervous and was wondering why I chose her to take my bags home with me. I wanted her to know that somebody loved her and that

Finally it's friday. Everyone going to prom skips today just so they can get ready. First, I went out and get my hair done. They braided it in a side pony tail. It looked so pretty. Hopefully better than Sally’s hair. I kept checking my phone incase Sally posted anything. After I got my hair done I carefully drive back to my friend Alexsia’s house. When i walked in a wave of hair spray slapped me in the face. They were all talking about how Sally is trying way to hard to win.

Every time she comes back, my dad tries to talk some sense into her, but my sensitive mother always claims that Dad is a “balloon popper” and doesn’t care about her dreams. When she comes back she always has little sleep and for the few clients she does have, she has tons of work to make up. She’s very cranky when she’s back and stays cranky for days because it takes her that long to make up sleep because she has to work into the late hours of the night to catch up on her actual work. If she stays home for over a week, there might be one time she offers to make dinner, but she always gets distracted and burns something or doesn’t cook something long

She works a 8-10 shift, comes home to a family of 5, and always teaches us good lessons. She has raised us and Will continue to do So "You held to get good grades, don't get Played by boys, and always help others even it they did wrong. And never keep hate in your heart." words I've grown up with. those are the words of my mother. Coming home tired every day was her, but I never seemed to care. My mom, 45, is a thin yet Strong-willed woman. whenever she returns home from a long clay of work, she always asks for Massages And I ALWAYS complain. "Ugh, Why do I have to do this?" Or "What do I get in return?" Were my answers. Looking back at it I regret it when I was the one to complain and not my mom. I'm the one who sits at home all day and does

Don’t take your anger out on someone else because, it isn’t there fault. “The great need for my mother who was never there, the hopelessness of our poverty and degradation ,the bewilderment of being neither child nor woman and yet both at once , the fear unleashed by my father’s tears .And these feelings combined in one great impulse toward destruction.” “ I leaped furiously into the mounds of marigolds and pulled madly , trampling and pulling and destroying the perfect yellow blooms.” Lizabeth then saw that her childish ways would leave an mental scar of shame because , she decided to take her frustration out on Miss Lottie’s marigolds

Anger is a very strong emotion that occurs with annoyance or displeasure. Maria gets angry at her family,after calming down maria watches some tv and sees on the news of a possible family killed in a car crash and she no longer knows if she will ever see her family again. Anything is possible. “Growing Up” by Gary Soto. Dont take your anger out on the people you love.

On March 4th, 2005 I sat in Mrs. Musser’s first grade class. I talked with my friend Olivia Thacker, like I did everyday. We talked about boys; how smelly they were and how we would never have boyfriends. We talked about our sisters who were also friends, and we talked about our parents. However, that year we mostly talked about my mother. Around 2:45, my sister, Lauren and I, would walk to the farthest end of the school. That end of the school was filled with the bigger kids and I was always scared to walk on that side. My sister who was in second grade at the time, always walked with me, so I had some protection. Anyways, we walked out the doors to the student car-rider pick up line. My grandmother on my father's side always picked us up

My mom had been going to school in Virginia and staying at my Aunt Ana’s house. She had been away for two weeks and wanted to come home for the weekend. My mom had suggested that I go back with her and visit

“It is a shame that her father left her...this happened because her mother failed her job as a wife...she is so young...what was her father thinking?”, my relatives whispered as they sipped their tea. My cousin’s face turned pale like the white blanket of snow falling outside the lodge at the camp in Lake Tahoe. Her expression held so many emotions as if it was a canvas of a painting to be gazed upon. I could see that she felt frustrated and tired of these rude remarks, and all I did was just stand there and caressed the back side of her hands, so I could comfort her. Suddenly, it felt like the air had thickened so much that even a hammer could not slash it into tiny bits. My cousin had not yet known why her father left the house yesterday.

“Tonight’s the dance!” I yell as I walk through the front door. I’m Raven a 6th grade girl and tonight's the spring dance. “I’M ON THE PHONE!” screams her mother, “sorry.” I whisper. I go and get something to eat, then do homework. When I’m done I go and takes a shower and picks out my dress. I’m a pasty white girl with long black hair. While I pack a bag for Katie's house, I starts humming a line from a song that I don’t know the tittle of. Then I started singing, “ Because it's too cold whoa,for you here, So now let me hold whoa both your hands through the holes of my sweater.” “Raven! You almost ready?”, say her mother. “ Yes ma!” I yells her sister gets home and is already watching T.V.

I would like ideas on ways to work with her that can help her to reach out to her

I painted a smile on my face and grabbed the basket full of pastel orange petals. I looked down at my dress again, remembering the last time I had worn it, my mom was with me and my family was there. Part of me wished she was here with me, even though I knew she couldn’t be for many complicated reasons

In the beginning of November one of my best friends Cheyann turned 18, she was super excited about her birthday because she was going to have all her friends around her including her younger sister, her two other girl best friend and myself. She made plans for her birthday to be downtown as more of a “girls night out” fancy dinner celebration. She asked me to drive us downtown to the mall, so after grabbing a parking ticket we drove around and around the cold, concrete parking garage to about the 3rd or 4th level. As I got out of the car I noticed that there were only a few cars around us in the dim lit garage, it was around 6pm so it was already dark and freezing cold outside. All us girls started walking towards the doors that led to the elevators laughing and talking loudly in our heels and short, fancy dresses when Cheyann stopped dead in her tracks and froze up.