Living On The Trail Of A Supper Of Fried Fish, Grits, And Biscuits

A mother’s words are the ones that ring loudest in a child’s ear, are passed down from generation to generation, and the one’s that hold a special place in a child’s memory and heart forever. Expectations and guidelines are set at a young age. Morals and values are learned throughout the years, and life lessons are taught through the wisdom passed down from a mother to a daughter. Every mother has a wish for their daughter to be the best they can be. But at what point does instruction and wisdom become simply words that have been said one too many times? The short story “Girl,” written by Jamaica Kincaid is presented to the reader as a list of instructions from a mother to a daughter on how to live life to the

In fitful sleep, she dreamt dreams of Indians, palmettos, cotton, tobacco, rice, indigo, and eagles flying through the skies calling to her, telling her to take this trail or that, and her reaching up, trying to catch them before they flew away. The next morning, she helped Nancy build a fire under the big, black iron pot out back of the cabin and then fill it with water so they could wash clothes. About an hour later, as they hung the first of the wash on the line, they heard a rider coming up the back trail; the trail that led down to Fort Charlotte.

In the detailed story of an impoverished family during the late 1900’s, Jeannette Walls describes her experience from the young age of 3, up until adulthood. The family of 6, with Rex Walls as the father, Rose Mary as the mother, and her three siblings, Lori, Brian and Maureen, were constantly moving throughout the country with little to no food or cash. The memoir shows how dysfunctional the family was, but never seemed to force the reader to condemn the parents. In a life of poverty, the have to move for own to town, and often lived in various mining towns. Although they each found something they learned to love (like Jeannette’s rock collection) in the desert, they had to leave them behind once Rex’s alcoholism only worsened, and they ran

     Ada Monroe was the pampered daughter of a Charleston minister, Monroe. Sheltered by her father, who came to Cold Mountain to minister to the “heathen’s,” she is unprepared for his death. Like any lowland lady, she reads well, play the piano, and can plan parties. She knows not to plant, or sow, or reap. She comes very close to starving on her lovely mountain farm before Ruby comes walking up her lane. Ada’s savior is a scrawny mountain girl with will and work ethic for them both. She came to work the land with Ada, saying. “…if I’m to help you here, it’s with both us knowing that everybody empties their own night jar (68).” Ruby forces Ada off the porch rocker and into the fields. Through days of weeding,

They even allowed them into their houses. They gathered wood and made fire path to their houses, in the morning they brought them food “in every way hospitably. The author uses Characterization to show the kindness of how they were feeling about the indians being welcomed in and has sympathy for people they never met..

Cautionary old wive’s tales have long been an effective way to teach children morality and values without boring them. In Judith Ortiz Cofer’s “A Partial Remembrance of a Puerto Rican Childhood” (rpt. In Santi V. Buscemi and Charlotte Smith, 75 Readings Plus, 10th ed. [New York: McGraw Hill, 2013] 67-71) it is clear how a good storyteller such as Mama can capture the attention her audience. Cofer’s grandmother often tells these “cuentos” to her daughters and granddaughters over afternoon coffee. These stories are used as an indirect way for Mama to teach her family the values and lessons that she has learned throughout her life.

Her mother, or so she imagined, was gentle with a set of blue eyes and red hair. Maddox was awfully marvelous at making a cherry pie so it became Georgiana’s favorite. She herself was a short fourth grader, just extending past the little kid stage, and exhibited her thankful nature every day. She had never heard of her father, yet longed to wonder why she did not have one. This thought occured, once she became mature. Georgiana also pondered that she had no other relatives that she had met. She was quite timid to ask Maddox, her mother, why this was so, and therefore it never happened.

As we started along the trail, I worried about forgotten items and my decision to only bring one extra pair of socks. However, after a while, I became aware of a pair of birds chattering above me and the soft murmur of water trickling down a stream bed. After an hour of walking, the trail starts winding back on itself in a series of switchbacks. The chatter between my family members slows down, as we soon struggled to breathe from exhaustion. Sometimes I was hunched over so far from my load that I would stare at my rubber-toed boots and forget to look up at the majestic trees surrounding me.

I shared a home with my sister, brother, mother, our grandfather, and our great-grandmother in a small community outside of Holly Springs, MS, named Chulahoma. At the age of six I began attending a one-room school three miles away from my home. I made the long trek there every morning, accompanied by my teacher and my two siblings. Our family raised a farm, which we helped with the upkeep of. We were fortunate enough that we didn’t have to live in poverty. On the farm, we raised chickens, cows, and hogs, which we used for food, so we had all the meat we needed. There was also a pond nearby where we fished, my mother especially loved fishing.

For instance, Thomas is always telling stories, but these aren’t ordinary stories. Thomas’ stories seem to tell tales that a grandmother would tell her grandchildren. Thomas says here, “There were these two Indian boys who wanted to be warriors. But it was too late to be warriors in the old way… You were very brave, everybody said to the two Indian boys.

I just led us in a straight line,” Ben adamantly tried to explain. Then, a cacophony of twigs breaking and bushes rustling started in the distance ahead of them. The relaxed ambiance dropped suddenly. They stood there frozen from fear as the sounds began to move nearer and louder. Then all at once, they began running in the opposite direction they had been walking in, and went straight back to the bonfire to seek the comfort and protection of their family. When they got there, they saw no trace of their brothers or sisters. Each of their minds raced, just pleading for an answer to what had happened to the people they had depended on. Each of them came up with an idea of their

The events that take place in a person’s life determine a large portion of who that person becomes. In Alice Walkers’ short story, “Everday Use”, the tale of two sisters reuniting as adults is told through the eyes of their mother. The two sisters, Dee and Maggie were raised very differently and when they are reunited they dispute over who will receive the quilts their relative hand sewed. In the story, the quilts are used to symbolize the consequence of Maggie being raised to work hard while Dee was allowed to get an education, and how their diverged upbringing has altered their perspective on their heritage.

About the loneliness and companionship that the author cast on George and lennie going from ranch to ranch working like if was an isolated place. The author trying to use a way that where you can feel the experience of a ranch worker. Also that George and lennie never are going to be truly isolated no matter how different they are.

The passage O Pioneers talks about this town in the Great Plains and a little country boy that can not help his cat and is afraid to ask someone for help. The author of the passage, Willa Cather, uses phrases and words to describe how somber the mood of the passage is. Carter also overuse words to emphasis how somber the mood of the passage is.Willa Cather’s choice of words and phrases about the setting contributes to the somber mood of the passage by describing the houses in the open plains, the overuse of the word “gray”, and how scared the little sad boy was about his cat and asking someone for help.

The important parts of it, to me, I spent in solitude. Learning to walk appreciably well and finishing a rigorous training program in firearm safety at the uncompromising hands of Father, I achieved my position in our family food chain, hunting each day after school, continuing until dark. My mission: bring home dinner. Not always successful, we sometimes feasted on Wonder Bread sandwiches with ketchup and a steaming bowl of Mother’s track soup. For me hunting constituted no exercise in weekend recreation, no outing in the country to escape city life, it merely augmented Father’s parallel