My Grandmother : The Most Formidable Enemy Essay

This hero essay is about my grandmother. People always look for someone who is strong and caring to help them in times of need. My grandmother is an example of a true hero. There are certain times when she took care of me when I was sick or I needed her. Furthermore, she had taken time and love to help my grandpa when he got into an accident. Lastly, the confidence she has in her own beliefs to help those in need that are on the reservation. There are many examples of strength and honor my grandmother displays that makes her my hero.

The sky was always blue holding sunshine rays in her world. Her name was Rosaline Deponte, my great-grandma. The continuous smile that she showed on her face reminded us how precious life is and to not take things for granted. Cold wood floors that could easily freeze toes, single-walled construction, shut rows of jalousie windows, and the smell of warm sweet bread on the counter 24/7, that was Rosaline’s house.

Joan Smetana is an eighty-four year old, four foot ten, Catholic-German woman. She is sister to Mary-Ann Koenig wife to the late-Robert Smetana, and mother to Therese and Mary. She has five grandchildren, one of them in me. I love my grandmother, or as I call her: “Nana.” She is one of those woman that everyone loves, whether you know her or not; however, those who are closest to her, her family, tend to love her more from a distance, but love her none the less. She is literally the center of her family, as her house is in between the homes of her two daughters, otherwise known as my backyard and two streets over from my Aunt Mary. Eighteen years of growing up, knowing she was watching out her window for any sign of trouble and having

The loss of Granny Weatherall’s husband forced her to become an independent woman. Her independence made her stronger and she displayed her stubbornness to strive any time she could. Although she was a woman who was not extraordinarily strong, she tended to the land by herself, such as when “She had fenced in a hundred acres once, digging the post holes herself and clamping the wires” to upkeep her land (Porter 79). Even without a husband, she was able to do many difficult tasks by herself. Mrs. Weatherall did not need help from others and often refused it, even in her final moments of life Granny Weatherall told the doctor “Leave a well woman alone. I’ll call for you when I want you” (Porter 78). Granny Weatherall was able to raise her three children, without the help of her late husband, and the children grew up loving their mother. Granny Weatherall’s level of commitment adds to her independence, due to the fact that after her husband passed, she refused to marry again and continued to strive without a partner. Not only is Granny Weatherall able to take care of herself, but she displays her compassion for others and asks for nothing in return. Granny Weatherall’s independence defines the amazing woman’s legacy of being capable of doing so much, without the help of others.

Religion has always been around for many years and will continue to live on. Since 2014, there are an estimated 4,200 different religions, all over the world each believing in different things Having their own set of rules and tradition that must be followed. Storytelling became a way to give people advice or telling people what would happen if they disobey their religious rules or tradition. In the story of a grandmother, it critiques religion for the way it can lead to snap judgments and a loss of freedom.

Honor the Grandmothers takes a look at four Dakota and Lakota women who offer to share the stories of their lives to the reader. It is a heartfelt look into their hardships through racism, to their ongoing battle to pass along the rich history of their ancestors while fighting poverty on the reservation.

For this mini-project, I interviewed my 72-year-old grandmother. My grandmother, Dominga, was born and raised in the Agua Caliente, El Salvador. She lived in a poor rural area where her parents owned a strip of land where they were able to own animals. She was born to parents who were Mestizo, of mixed European and indigenous descent. My grandmother was around my age in the 1960s, so I wanted to know what her everyday life as a woman was during that time.

Margot knew she was going over her great grandma house to have fun. She always had the best time of her life over there. When she heard her grandma died, she cried for 2 whole days. They always ate lunch her great grandma also made big dinners for no reason she also watched movies at he great grandma house then she ended up going straight to bed. The next morning she and her siblings would always of pancakes and bacon. After she and her siblings ate, they would go to the corner store and pick up lots of 10 cents worth candy and they all would eat it in one day just because they loved candy.

Grandma. I had the best grandma who was there for me like nobody but my sister who was also close to her. I remember Grandma lana coming over just because she wanted to see me and sissies smiles. I loved Grandma Lana. But then grandma was taken out of me, Chelsea and morgan's lives for some reason i'll never understand. Just 13 years later Mama missed Grandma so much she just had to go see her. I remember that day like it's the back of my hand… Mama, Chelsea, Me, and Morgyn, and baby puppy Cami, we go pick up grandma in the big ol truck. We head straight for the Missouri river to walk the sidewalks and let us kids play. Grandma was so happy to see us she couldn’t stop smiling but… just then she sits mama down and tells her “Vanessa,

I interviewed Neda Alvieri, my seventy two year old Nana (grandmother) from Croatia. Nana was born on February 18th, 1942 in Poljana, Croatia, where she still lives today. She was raised with her 2 brothers and 2 sisters by her mother and father in their village. It was her responsibility on the village to help tend to the animals, crops, and when she was in her teens, help her mother do basic housework. Religion was and still is an important part of my Nana’s life, being a devoted Christian. Every week, the family would walk with the rest of the village to the local church and pray. She enjoyed singing and knitting growing up, and I am actually lucky enough to have a few things that she knitted for me. She never went to school when she was a kid. By the time she was sixteen, she was married to my Dido, (grandfather). It was an arranged marriage by her parents and his. By 1960, when she was 18, she had her first child, my Teta (aunt) Lucjiana. At this time, she had moved away from her family to live with her husband. Dido Bruno never had a proper education either. He was a carpenter. Some of the houses he built are still standing today. When my Nana got married, she did the same

I will tell you a tale of a woman of great success. This is a woman that has inspired me to be something great one day and to never give up trying. Though she may be growing into her elderly years she has lived a very challenging, joyful, loving and successful life. She is a woman of great faith and character, she is my grandmother.

Two Grandmothers and Georgia and Them There United States are both stories which highlights the somewhat internal struggle of who to be and how. This shows how innocence and values can be broken down, and the values associated with where someone comes from can be altered to such an extent that it may seem like a completely different person. These details would be discussed in the following paragraphs to get a clearer understanding as to why and how such occurrences even came about

I was walking down Morden Hall Road while the sun seemed to gleam at me. The light from the enigmatic sun reflected off a car window and to my immense surprise. I thought I saw my grandmother quarrelling animatedly with someone. A dark blue isolated cloud obscured the sun and DRIP! DROP! Large drops of rain fell on me, so I rummaged for my umbrella in my school bag. Turning around, the two people had vanished. Where was my grandma? Who was she disputing with? I was apprehensive as she was not as stable when she was younger.

At just over five feet tall, she was the kind of woman that you saw on the street and knew to move out of her way. Her demeanor was strict, her hands tied with thick blue veins, criss­crossing over her thin, frail fingers.

We hopped on the plane at MSY and smiles were from ear to ear. My father, sister, and I were so excited to finally be flying to Denver to visit our family. Ever since I was little, I have loved airplanes. There is something about having two to three hours to myself being able to do whatever I wanted. I also loved being served my favorite beverage, Ginger Ale, and the best salty snack duo- peanuts and pretzels. For all my eighteen years of life, I have flown on planes almost every year. The majority of the flights have been spent flying mid-west to Denver to visit my paternal grandparents that live with my aunt, uncle, and two cousins. It became a family tradition to go there every year because sadly as we all know, grandparents seem to