Short Story : ' Half Finished Dreams '

Instead of weeping about my problems, I knew it was time to be responsible, to take action. I remembered that my mother would always nag me about how my room was so dirty. In response to my remorse, I figured that it was finally time to clean it up for her. When she saw my room, she was awestruck and said “Good job!” Hearing these words were very touching; it was a refreshing sensation that I wanted to continue to experience.

Often times when I was younger my mother would drop me off at my Grandmother’s house over the summer to help her around the house while she went to work. My Grandmother owned one computer ,two large T.V sets and one very large yard full of weeds. One day my Grandmother dragged me out to help her de-weed the ground surrounding a potential flowerbed, and being the six year old I was announced my disdain for outdoor work and my preference of watching Scoobydoo and Spongebob. Ten minutes into the de-weeding process my Grandmother starts up anecdotes of her childhood and how her mother made her work outside and in the end it ultimately helped her build character, and by working outside I was building character. And when I look back on it now I

It may seem late but this is when we got our food. My father went out in our neighborhood, as camouflaged as possible, to get whatever vegetable scraps he could from the privileged people’s gardens. With the scraps, mother would make soup. The soup was made from water, salt, scraps, and chicken bones for flavor if we were lucky. I remember the steam dancing on the pot under the very dim kitchen lamp. The soup was honestly terrible but it was all we had. Despite the bland taste of the soup, my mother would always present our dinner with pride, knowing that she has done the best that she could. It was the same view each night. My mother presenting the soup, with a look that was a perfect mix of worrisome and affectionate. We found that look comforting as children. My father wore his anxiety on his face in wrinkles and a permanent frown on his lips, but he would force a smile once in a blue moon. My brother was always lighthearted and he provided all of us with joy and hope. This was my life, and that’s what I expected the rest of my life to

The world and its great variety of places have had an impact on my life, but only one has turned me into the person I am today. My home, Zapzalka Farms, is the foundation of my life. Who would have thought a small farm just four miles north of the little town called Bowlus would teach a young man so many valuable lessons about working hard and strong moral values? Looking in from the driveway, I see the house where I grew up, the two story structure composed of 115 year old crusty yellow concrete brick surrounded by flower beds and 50 foot cedar trees. This house has helped me through everything, from birthday parties as a child, to writing Comp papers as a student, I do not know where I would be without it. As I make my way down the driveway surrounded by seven foot cornfields like a mouse searching its

We traveled down into the slums of Puerto Peñasco and walked around talking to the people of the area. Many of them lived in houses that were constructed out of spare sheets and pieces of wood. They didn’t appear to be ungrateful with what they had, and a majority of the people we talked to were very loving to us, and to others. This left an impression on me because I realized how fortunate it was that I lived in a nice home, and how they could be happy with even a portion of what I

James was sitting in his office one day thinking about how he would move up from vice president to CEO of his company, Dream Corps. When he went home he thought he’d consult his wife, Marsha, for ideas.

My mother has taught me everything That I know.I gained even more love for my mother while doing this project.I have gained knowledge of my mother that i didn't know before and for that i feel even closer to her.Doing this project was fun because it was all about my mother and i’m extremely happy to have done a project that was of no interest to me.

It was a sunny, blue skied, rainbow out type of morning on the eighteenth of July, 2014. Waking up the sound of my mom’s voice, “Girls, you need to wake up and start getting ready.” It’s already here? It seems like just yesterday my grandma was teaching me how to play cards, letting me do her hair, and scratching my back until I fell asleep. I’ve been dreading this day ever since her admission into the nursing home, and now that it was here, all of the sadness built up. Holding back my tears was the hardest thing I’ve done, but I needed to stay sane for the sake of my dad, who had just lost his only parent left.

I awoke to my grandma standing at the end of the bed singing as she did to annoy me. I was laughing uncontrollably. I jumped out of bed and put on all of my hunting clothes. When I exited the guest bedroom I could smell the luring aroma of fresh breakfast that grandpa Doug always cooks for me. I sat down and was served a plate of fried potatoes 2 eggs and some chocolate milk.

Dreamcatcher sat on a sandy beach, absentmindedly watching the black waves wash onto shore and return to the endless sea beyond him. As usual, the moon was completely covered by dark ashes that came out of the looming volcano in the distance. The air smelled strongly of salt water that the wind blew from the sea. He sighed melancholically. This was the beach of his childhood.

“Finally sleeping, I see,” Lyanna said in a low voice to her granddaughter and Katelyn as she reentered the room, Angela having passed out on the sofa as she lay cradled with Liam and Ellie in her arms.

Everyone has their own interpretation of the “American Dream”but no one can truly defend it unless they have experienced, Base on the three short stories “America and I” by Anzia Yezierska, “Among the poor girls” by Wirt Sike, and “Eyewitness at the triangle” by William Shepard. But what is an “American Dream” it could mean anything, the general definition is an imagery or a dream for U.S citizen should have an equal right or opportunities to achieve great success and prosperity. It just doesn't exist for everyone because there are still homeless people on the street or people who are working very hard get very little pay so it's just a shadow.

Everyone in the world is placed in different situations. Some might be needier than others while some might be more fortunate than others. The two short stories "Brother, Can You Spare a Dream?", by Jackie French Koller along with "Thank You Ma'am", by Langston Hughes both show the audience how important it is to help others in need. The authors of the two short stories are trying to teach us that "Helping others in need" is an important moral through their written texts.

"You'll never see an object in dream that you haven't seen in your daily life"

I arrived home and started my assigned task. I had three weeks to finish my english project and I wanted to get started as soon as possible. A gentle breeze picked up as I set up my materials on my back porch. I meticulously laid out the 5 pots, bag of fertile soil, flower seeds, and a shovel. Unsure of where to begin, I called for my dad who was working in the front of the house. Ever since we build our house in 2011, he has landscaped and built a garden every spring and summer. I used to help him pull weeds out of the garden and plant tomatoes in big huge painters buckets from Home Depot that I painted green. Even my little brother and mom would come out and work in the garden and around the yard. The sun would beat down on us, the birds sung songs, and my dog would be leashed up out back sunbathing in the sun while we worked.