My Grandparent Day

Grandparents want to see their grandchildren succeed in life and in their school and in their sports. Many Grandparents like to visit their grandchildren and watch them play the sports that they are in, and they also want to see them do good in school. My Grandpa loved to watch me play basketball when I was younger, he loved to watch me doing what I love. My grandpa also was a really easy person to talk to. He was one for me that I could talk to about anything, and I knew that he would understand. He was a person that I could easily relate to when I was younger and a person I looked up to and wanted to be just like when I got older. These stories that I am going to talk are about how he taught me to have fun with the ones you love, to be teachable, and to spend time with people you love before they are gone.

As the frost crept up my window, each snowflake was perfectly plastered in front of me. They seemed as if they were putting on a show just for me, and I couldn’t help but imagine that there were tiny people living in each one. The soft hum of my mother’s CD’s played in the background as my little brother was fast asleep to my right. I brushed my fingers through my dolls knotted hair, feeling the itchy yarn envelope each finger. Looking out the window again all I saw were cars speeding past us, all rushing to get to their own winter plans.

It was a flurry and cold winter day, the kind of day when every breath stings the lungs and every exhale chills the lips. Living in Iowa, I was used to the frigid winter, but this unsuspecting day would forever change Emily Kriz. My mother and I had just entered the frosted glass doors at our local Michaels after having the usual tedious chat about keeping your hands to yourself and looking with our eyes, not our hands. I acted as though I was listening, adding in subtle head nods as I watched each individual snowflake fall crisply onto the ground, as if each had a strict road map to a anticipated location. Upon entering, we saw a winter wonderland. The fragrance of frosted pine wafted through the nipping air that had snuck in from the outdoors and tingled my petite fingers and toes. With every blink of the eye there was something newfangled and wondrous to look at. It had seemed as though Michaels was decorated for a gala, with only the finest and most stunning decorations on display, but with every piece of pristine decor in is precise spot. We browsed the aisles, with each aisle as colorful and exciting as the rest. We were nearing the end of the isles when I saw it, a display of candles that drew my eyes in like no other. My mom had turned her cart down the aisle filled with all the eyeful winter floral pieces, and at this moment I knew it was my time to do what I had been told not to, I needed to reach out and smell one of those candles that had tunneled my vision. I

It was a cold winter day, when the grass was buried under a blanket of snow, all the trees were decorated with natural crystal ornaments and the lakes were hidden under a sheet of ice. Mom had gone over to Dad’s apartment to work on their research paper on Germany’s role during the Holocaust. It was getting late and the roads were blocked due to the blizzard that happened the day before. Mom called Nana telling her that she would stay at Dad’s until the roads opened.

The cold winter breeze hit her skin as she stepped out of the warm truck, ordinarily, she immediately wrapped her arms around the black coat attempting to keep her warm, as she was freezing from the sudden temperature change from the truck into the chilly air. Looking back to the sled being drawn out of the back of the truck, then she turned around and her eyes landed on the Rocke’s house, their close family friends. Gazing briefly at her parents one last time, ran to the door of the house, ready to get out of the cold momentarily.

The weather was warm yet brisk at the same time as I walked from my grandparent’s new house to the car. As I attempted to squeeze into the backseat, it finally sunk in just how much stuff my sister thought she had to bring with her. I moronically asked her, “Why on earth would you possibly need all of this stuff?” All I got in return was a menacing glare from my sister Erin and a quick “STOP” from my mom. I thought to myself, “Just a few more hours and she’ll be gone forever, peace and quiet will finally be mine.” I could not have been more wrong.

Every family has a unique way of celebrating the holidays. Some may have wacky traditions, secret family recipes, and just interesting meals. My family has some interesting traditions that are much different than most people´s. Such as out yearly baseball game, or our assortment of gravy. Many other families have goofy traditions and meals as well, you just wait.

The family sometimes sat in front of the fire, while Pa sang songs, told stories, and played on his fiddle. The Ingalls family’s life was usually very simple, although as Laura remembers in her fiction book, “Little House in the Big Woods”, the family did have special ocassions. Christmas was a happy time for them, as family usually came to visit. Laura remembers one special christmas when she was given her rag doll, Charlotte. And, as Laura writes in her book, the family went to one large dance at her grandparents house to celebrate ‘Sugar Snow’, as Laura called the time of Maple Sugar Harvesting. Overall, the Ingalls family’s quiet life in Wisconsin was a fondly remembered time in Laura’s

There is a point in everyone’s life where they begin to speculate if something will ever end. March 4th, 1966, the day that would commence possibly the most profitable week ever for snow clearing businesses in the city of Winnipeg. Those twenty four hours would eternally cement our city’s nickname as Winterpeg, Manisnowba. On that day, Winnipeg endured one of it’s most colossal snowstorms in it’s history. The snow stranded a multitude of people, stores turned into shelters, and it seemed like the snow would fall forever. The storm effectively shut down the entire city. Barbara Kaufman, my maternal grandmother, and Sybil Lerner, my paternal grandmother lived through this storm, and recalled some of their memories. Both grandmothers were mothers

The moment I was informed about this oral history report, only one person came to my mind when deciding who to compose this project about. This person was my grandfather. He was an inspiration in my life. This project has given me the opportunity to reflect back onto my grandfather’s stories and historical accomplishments for on March 19, 2012 was the day my grandfather Richard “Joel” Pettingell left this earth. There was no such thing as a dull moment in my grandfather’s life. The time I got to spend with my grandfather filled my head with only a faction of the life he lived. To help elaborate on the high lights of my grandfather’s historical moments, I interviewed my uncle James Pettingell. During the interview we chronologically

It was a cold December night on Huckleberry Lane and all the world seemed to be asleep. The wind swept through the small town of Hampton that morning, encasing the whole town in a thin sheet of snow that stuck to the streets. School children had celebrated with joyous cries as the flakes kissed the ground. The games and snow fights filled the streets of Hampton had filled the day with laughter and pink-tinted cheeks. Once darkness began to arrive, mothers called to their children with the promise of warm soups and flaky desserts. Most children quickly rushed home, their tummies rumbling in protest, but one child, late to listen to the call of his mother, stayed watching the snow in curiosity in the inside of a hollow tree. His name was Thomas.

I am thankful for a lot in life, but I’ve just chosen three and those are my Grandparents, my family, and vacations. When someone is thankful for something, they are showing respect and gratitude towards the gift or person. “Strive to find things to be thankful for, and just look for the good in who you are!”- Bethany Hamilton. Being thankful is something I strongly try to do because I think it’s a great virtue.

I want to tell you about the Mother's Day that I will never forget. Now in our culture, Mother's Day is a day of celebration to her mothers and giving honor to the woman who pushed us into the world. Showing love to the woman, who taught us right from wrong, who was present when we took her first steps. So the woman who was the greatest example of unconditional love. This is a day to show her everything that she has shown you in your lifetime. I truly wish I could tell you that this was that type of story. I wish I can sell you that on this day I gave my mother the best Mother's Day gift that any €12 can give. I wish that I can tell you I saw my mother cry tears of joy and happiness. I wish I was able to say that she gave me the biggest hug and whispered in my ear “I love you, Omar” as she kissed me on the cheek. I wish I can tell you that these things happened, but unfortunately this is in that type of story. This is the last time I spent Mother's Day with my mother

It was the Russell family gathering. It happened every summer on July 18, like clockwork. Aunts, uncles, cousins, and even second or third cousins showed up. Little girls with grass-stained knees were racing around inside and outside in their poofy dresses. Little boys, getting their dress pants dirty, played games in the backyard. Parents sat gossiping around polished white tables with wine glasses in their hands, the sun beating down on them. Today was particularly warm with a slight breeze, perfect weather for the family gathering. An array of birds were (1) perched on top of the white picket fence chirping. Evelyn Russell, who held this family gathering every year, was pacing back and forth, making sure that everything was in place.

I sit in the couch while watching TV. Today 's the day my great grand mother is going to draw an unlucky person 's name in whose house there will be about 20 people or so coming in for christmas.Oh lord,how I wish my mom 's name won 't pop up as this decade 's host.