Karlene Edwards Short Story

Cooking is something that has been around since the beginning and something that we cannot afford to loose. Cooking is what makes us human, what provides us with the right nutrients and what keeps us from falling into the industries trap. Michael Pollan’s The Cooking Animal reinforced my belief on the importance of home cooked meals and also expands it.

Brought up in a rural society, my father’s upbringing under economic hardships has always enlightened me with ideas of appreciation and respect. On the

Growing up we didn’t have the riches or opportunities that others had but we were jubilance. I never kenned any woefulness because I was protected, like an angel my father guided me. In his eyes I was never wrong, his kindness and word of wisdom made me the young adult I am today. My father wanted to help everyone whether it was finically or emotionally he was there to help. On a rainy day my father was walking me to school when we came upon an eight year boy, he had no jacket or shoes. He was freezing cold, so my father took of his jacket and put in on the little boy shoulders to keep him warm. He asked where his family was only to discover the kid was an orphan. My father took me and the boy back to our house. I was watching my father bathe, clothe, and feed the boy. The boy name was Abdi; he stayed with us and went to school till my father was able to find a good home for him. The kindness that he showed Abdi made me want to help

One warm summer morning my sister, dad, and I were sitting and watching T.V. and my best friend’s dad called and invited us over for the weekend. He said

It was of a time when he and his family went to tour Glacier National Park in Montana. They took Chinook with them. When they were stopped on the side of the road to look at mountain goats, mistakenly leaving the car door open. Chinook saw this opportunity, and jumped out of the car to chase the mountain goats. Seeing this, my dad’s sister chased after the dog offroad, running alongside the cliffs. Fearing for her daughter’s life, my grandpa, or my father’s dad, chased after my sister. Then, for fun, my dad chased after my father. It was a complete mess and I had a blast listening to the

An older boy remembered his father, a hardworking blue collar man. He remembered how his father would walk into the home each evening with scraped hands and perspiration stained shirts. His father was a tough man. He was the kind of man that refused to go to the doctor and rarely hugged his children. Yet, he was a good man. The boy remembered how his father provided for the family and often times his smallest actions proved his paternal love for them. One particular memory stood out among the rest. His father had returned home from work late one evening. He had been out celebrating his pay raise with some of his co-workers down at the local pub. He waltzed through the door bursting with

“Thanksgiving is a holiday which contains a solution to one of our greatest problems today: our eating” (Adler). Many would think that Americans struggle with eating because of lack of time or because food is too expensive, when in reality, they just don’t use ingredients to their fullest potential, wasting time and money. Thanksgiving seems to be the only day in the year that people eat correctly—by using leftovers. In the article “Thanksgiving Thrifts,” Adler effectively attempts to persuade her audience of the benefits of what she calls “sustainable cooking.”

After we finished breakfast, I see my dad return to the line and ask for a breakfast order. I tell him in a joking tone, you stayed hungry? He told me, it's not for me. When we left the fast food, he stopped the car near the person who was in the parking lot and gave him the breakfast. The face of that person touched my heart, thanked my father and filled him with blessings. With that gesture my dad showed me, what he has told me thousands of times; it is important to be compassionate with others. My dad has always been my hero, my role model; but that day he taught me what it means that an action is worth more than a thousand words. My father didn’t need to use the authority to make me understand that it was important to be compassionate with our peers, only his genuine example and legitimacy are

Even six year old me could see the great suffering my father experienced not only mentally but physically. I recall once walking in the bathroom and seeing my father vomit, it was the first time I seen him so vulnerable. I could see the pain in his eyes. It was our third month in the united states and my father could not find a job, it was killing him. He was considering a job as a dishwasher to support his family, for that I could never repay him. A sprinkle of hope glimmered in our dark world when my dad got a job as a dispatcher at a local Airport, when I look back now I wonder if father ever felt disappointed that his hard nights of studying in college was futile, if he know that he would have to give up his career to support his family. Soon we moved out of my aunt and uncle’s how’s into a small one bedroom apartment in a sketchy neighborhood. By that time my mother has lost a total of thirty pounds. The once vibrant and sociable women was always tired, she often made called relatives back home which resulted in her crying for hours. My father would often cook and clean, it was fascinating to see my dad performing these tasks

When I was younger it didn’t matter what it was or when if dad said I could go with him to the blind I went. The funniest thing is that out of everything that ever happened to me when I was young the things I remember are all those times hunting pigs with my brother and dad. Which meant the world to me because, dad’s usually gone a lot and even if he was home, he left before we woke and home after we went to bed. Being a young kid, it bothered me not seeing dad every day, but now I look at it and it has made me appreciate all the times most people would’ve thought we’re “just hunting.” At a young age my dad taught me that

It was a chilly October Saturday morning. I was trying to sleep in, when the aroma of cooking bacon flooded my room. My father was slaving away, fixing my family a grand breakfast for no reason. My father sure did have a temper at times, but in the end he loved us even when we did make him mad. Sometimes it was like no one in my family could do anything right without dad getting mad about whatever it was that we were doing at the moment.

What would life be like if you packed your bags and just left the comfort of your home and went somewhere to challenge who you are as an individual. Would life be better if you lived in a different country or would it make you more grateful of the blessings you have that others do not. What if someone walked up to you and said its time to test who you are? Would you accept the challenge or would you walk away.

Conversely, the speaker of “The Hunger Past” tells the tale of how her father influenced her to appreciate the simplicity of properly cooked food, contrasting the depth and profound influence demonstrated in “Two Fish, One Morning”. Ignorant to the beauty of properly cooked meat, the speaker initially dismisses her father’s comment on her inability to properly cook, claiming that her overcooked meat was how she liked it. However, after observing her father’s “vigor and passion” during each meal and tasting a properly cooked yakiniku, the speaker finally comes to understand why her father and grandfather insist on certain cooking methods. Appreciating “the full-bodied taste of the beef [that] coated [her] mouth”, the speaker comes to the realization

My father passed away in 1991, two weeks before Christmas. I was 25 at the time but until then I had not grown up. I was still an ignorant youth that only cared about finding the next party. My role model was now gone, forcing me to reevaluate the direction my life was heading. I needed to reexamine some of the lessons he taught me through the years.

A lady by the name of Pamela Edwards was beginning to have hearing loss. People would speak to her and she had to keep asking them to repeat themselves. Before her hearing loss Pamela was experiencing ear pain for years. She went to see a doctor and they said her ear was plugged up and all they he did was clean her ears. “It seemed like nothing happened, I just got my ears cleaned and that was just about it,” Pamela said. Pamela hearing got worse and she couldn’t hear anything and was trying to read peoples lips until one morning she was watching The 700 Club on tv and heard Terry Meeuwsen giving a word on healing “You’ve been experiencing deafness in one of your ears God is healing that