The Schweinfurth Family

Meanwhile, war in Germany is increasing, which in turn leads to less food and work for those living in Molching. During a book-burning in celebration of Adolf Hitler's birthday, Liesel secretly takes a book from the fire. Liesel begins to deliver laundry for her foster mother Rosa. One of the people Liesel has to deliver the laundry of is the mayor’s wife. One day, the mayor’s wife allows Liesel to come into her library and read as much as she wants.

They wrote there their pain, experiences, loneliness, discrimination and so on which they gain from their life, now erin understands her students problem and pain. She decides to make them good students and well manner. But her teaching staffs are not happy with her because of her activity they think that this students are not understand the voice of love therefore they should treat tightly. But erin does not stop her work and gives more and more time to the students. But slowly students understand her and co-operate her expect eva .Erin thinks that students should meet the Holocaust survivors

The beginning of your book was not the happiest. I know that you lost your chance at a proper childhood; you knew long names of medication and understood the meanings of words such as “prognosis”, uniformed ladies became your best friends within the walls of a massive building filled with death and sickness and most things became

Mozart’s family life was very dramatic. He married twice and both were very hasty marriages. And his father disapproved of both of them. His first marriage was to a German girl named Aloysia. She was a pretty and musical girl of 15. But his father disapproved of the girl. Mozart even proposed to Aloysia in Salzburg in hopes of appeasing his father but his father was still adamant. At this time, Aloysia was performing at Munich Theatre where she was very successful. Sadly, this success made her think that a musician husband was too good for her. She broke off her engagement and married an actor. But, Mozart fell in love once again. This time it was with Aloysia’s sister, Constance. He described her as “kind-hearted, clever, modest, good-tempered, economical, and neat." This was all untrue. But unlike her sister, Constance loved Mozart fully and he loved her. Once again, Mozart’s father disapproved of the marriage, but it went on anyway. Happily, for Mozart, this was a happy marriage. He had four sons and two daughters, but only two sons, Karl and Wolfgang, survived.

There is a major conflict that Laura has to deal with between her family and society: which is dealing with the death of the man. This conflict has developed because Laura heard this from the cook: "there has been a horrible accident, and a man was killed". The issue was not just about the man who was killed, but also where this man lived. It turns out that the man who died left behind “five little ones and a wife”. The man died because he was thrown from “his horse and landed on his head”. The man was “a carter” and he lived down the road from Laura and her family. After Laura hears of what has happened to the man she goes to Jose and says, "However are we going to stop everything?" Laura gets in this fight with her sister about stopping this party. Her sister says, "You won 't bring a drunken workman back to life by being sentimental" Jose says this to Laura because she is getting very annoyed with Laura; also she just wants her to stop trying to cancel the party. Well Laura goes now to tell her mother the same thing that she tried telling her sister. Laura’s mother says this to her "People like that don 't expect sacrifices from

“Well, at least I get to see my little sister..” This was the only joy I could draw from my thoughts on that unusually temperate Mother 's Day. The one of the two days a year that “dear old dad” Would drag my little brother, Connor, and I to our mothers house, like cattle to a slaughterhouse. “Maybe she has finally changed” I prayed as Con-Con followed me across the threshold of her tiny decaying house. My senses were instantly under siege. Nostrils burning with the stench of cigarettes and mildew, eyes poisoned with clutter and the sores around mother 's face. We would greet Mother as she tried to pretend that she was always in our life. Through dogging kisses and clutter, I finally laid eyes on my new love. My little sister Neveah.

Her father was discovered with a fatal heart condition. She narrates that doctors told her that the old man couldn’t even get a heart attack. She would just drop dead. She, therefore, had to make quick arrangements for his surgery. She even left her projects a bit to organize for this.

A long time ago, or it feels that way, my life was good. Happy. Peaceful. Growing up, I never thought that maybe I was unlucky. I was always grateful for the riches my family had, for our presumed safety in the collapsing government. My mother, Adeline, died three years after my twin brother Leonardo and I were born, so I didn’t remember her that well. My father said he’d never remarry, that he loved my mother too much, but sometimes I thought we’d be better off if he had. Let me explain.

In the book, “Brother, I’m Dying”, written by Edwidge Danticat, which is about her realizing her father is dying the same day she finds out she’s pregnant. Throughout the memoir, Danticat explains her childhood was spent mostly apart from her parents, when they departed for the US and left her and her brother bob, in the care of Uncle Joseph and Tanté Denise. Danticat shows a clear figurative and literal use of voice and expresses how it effects one’s life when they have lost their voice and helps us to understand how it can be crippling to the inhibitor’s life. Danticat’s memoir discusses, First, the separation of her mother and father, in the early years of her life created a constant strain on the ability to communicate with one another, and how she would try to interpret their feelings through the letters. Secondly, Danticat explains how it affects her uncle when, he loses his voice from a radical laryngectomy, when it was discovered that he has throat cancer. Danticat also discusses how she has become the median to her father and uncles’ relationship. Third, Danticat tells the story of immigrants being in a strange land and not being able to effectively communicate for themselves. Lastly, Danticat uses her memoir as a way to speak for the people in Haiti that suffer every day, and the immigrants who she documented in Krome of being abused and treated like criminals even though all they were guilty of was trying to find a better life.

Krizia begins to describe the day her father succumbed to his sickness. She vividly remembered getting home from school and she was home alone, as her parents were at his doctor’s office for an appointment. Krizia, like any other kid went

She was thirty-eight years old with three children, her name was Aliza. She had two daughters and one son. The oldest daughter was twelve, and her name was Abela, after her father Abel. Givon was eight years old during this time. The youngest child was five, and her name was Rillia. They lived in a tiny neighborhood in Hannover, Germany. They were very close to all of their neighbors except for the Holzmann family. The Holzmann family lived at the very end of the street. Camila, Aliza’s closest friend from the neighborhood, lived across the street from the most hated people in their neighborhood. No one liked them because they were Nazi supporters.

Her own daughter, Elsie, would have been twenty that year, and the next Yahrzeit was fast approaching. Her chest ached. Having lost both her brother and her only child in such a short span of

The letters stopped coming all of a sudden. His mother got worse soon after, her face sullen and her skin pallid. It looked like the world just ceased to exist for her. She scoured those letters fervently now, every day every second was spent clinging onto the ink on the paper as if hoping for some sort of salvation.

He now cut a more pathetic figure, fermenting in self-pity. His upkeep deteriorated, and he had the air of a man who had given up on life. He was ill, but did not believe he would ever get better. He eventually stopped taking his medication, claiming that it dulled his usually razor-sharp mind, and that he was determined to keep that at all events. He was limping through life, counting down the moments until he could be released from it. He was totally oblivious to the effect that his downturn was having on his adult children, or their young children. He’d always told me ‘son, you gotta endure to enjoy’ but it was clear that he saw no further enjoyment in life.

Exhausted after a long day, she finished drying her hands, yanked off what used to be her mother’s cooking apron, and restlessly flopped down on her favorite chair at the dining table trying to get as comfortable as possible. She, who now feels like the responsibility reposes in her hands, finished washing and scrubbing the last dirty plate left from our customary evening dinner. Ironically it seemed as if her conventional shyness had for once vanished her soul as she sat there prepared to tell me the story of her life, the story that she usually never warms up to because it brings back such melancholy memories of her past and of her beloved ones. My mother, beautiful yet frangible, is like the newborn baby of a mama bird. Effulgent, caring, and commiserate she is a woman who has always put her family first. She always looked up to them, always revered them, and was always affixed to them. Though warmed by their endearment and affectionate care, eventually all babies grow up and have to learn to flutter away individually without the guidance of their parents. Coincidentally, she too was no longer able to depend on her family’s support, and it was then that she had to leave the nest. But even so, she has learned to acclimate to the ways of life, and despite the barriers and difficulties, she has managed to find hope and merriment. Reaching that state of joy is a struggle, and that search for contentment has been quite difficult for Isabel.