The Statue Of Honor-Personal Narrative

Djinda didn’t think her mother needed her anymore, her feet tapped against the wooden floor and headed into the kitchen. Her mother had received all these old appliances from an aunt who had died when Djinda had barely been one; she hadn’t been in any contact with any other family members – only her father. Djinda didn’t know her mother’s father but her father often told her he was a bad man; he could hurt her given the chance.

While the two women search the attic, a quilt starts up Naomi’s curiosity. This quilt compelled her to seek an answer to a mature question that would define her life forever; Why did my mother not return? She pleaded with Obasan for an answer; Obasan would not budge. I would have rejection and a parent’s rejection can fuel a child’s life, whether positive or negative. In my life I never had to worry about the love of my mother, it was my father’s that made me wonder. After the age of six, I grew up with my mother, sister and my grandfather, loved by all, except my father. At first I thought, I just needed to work harder so he would be proud when he, one day sees me on TV. Grade seven came and my father died so I was left with curiosity. I did not know why he left, I did not know what a father was, I just did not know. “Please tell me about” ( Joy K, Obasan, 31) my father, I would say, hoping to hear he was a hero or something that would make me believe he was capable of loving me just circumstances made it impossible. Like Naomi I got hugs and all the wrong kinds of comfort. “Where is she now? My arms are suffused with urge to hold, but a hug would startle

her mother (narrator) saw her. Through her reverie, we feel the mother's pain that her

In addition, the author helps the reader understand the selfishness of the mother when the reader finds out she have stole the Persian Carpet “several months before” (230) the divorce and puts the blame on Ilya, the poor blind man. Furthermore, the visit of the children is supposed to signal a fresh start for the family. The mother even emphasizes she wants the girls to come “live with [them]” (229). Yet again, even if they meet in order to reunite, characterized by a situational irony, they see themselves separated because of her mother selfish decisions.

Me and my friends went to The Legion of Honor museum in San Francisco. We went on a Saturday and it wasn’t easy to get there, it was a hour drive and it was raining really hard. When we got there the first thing we saw was the golden gate bridge right next to the museum, and we also saw a water fountain outside the museum. At the entrance of the museum we saw The thinker which looked beautiful. When we went inside we were greeted politely but everyone had to take of their backpack because they didn’t want us to accidentally knock something off. The inside wasn’t that crowded there were only a few people there. The first exhibition we went to had a lot of paintings of flowers. There was this one painting of flowers which I personally liked it

I opened the door of my small house and walked out. I remind myself what I'm supposed to be doing, my mother's words resounding in my brain. "Take out the trash and come straight back. Snow falls down on the streets of Poland, and the brisk cold of the the wind hits me in the face like a slap. My fingers went numb within my thin gloves, but I try to ignore the throbbing sting and walk on. I continue down the alley to where the trash was- or where I thought the trash dump was. I see a chalk board on one the walls on the building. I'm drawn to it, bypassing the scattered array of missing children signs without a thought crossing my 7 year old mind. The board was filled with names- Ada, Antoni, Yolonda. Some were written in a sloppy print, while

The Honor Guard tryouts, they were a great deal to those wanting to be the best of the best. You had to train and endure everything that was thrown at you, prepared or not. Everyone that makes it goes it by showing off every movement and command they have learned. Even still you can’t prepare for everything. Laubach had always said throughout the process for training and performing the event. That was to work hard and have the endurance to continue on, even when you do not want to. I tell that to people today when they feel like they can’t continue on.

On one of those nights, when I drifted off into a nightmare, I found myself alone in a silent town that looked to be abandoned. The walls of the buildings, as well as the sidewalks had writing on them. Words such as "Mr. Piggyton" and "Play!" were drawn on with chalk. There were also random names written as well. The most troubling was the large drawing of Mr. Piggyton that was drawn on the walls of an abandoned candy store. Below that, "Let's all have some fun!" was written.

Hello "rickykillaz" here, Here just putting up some For Honor game play footage I thought it would be cool. I dropped some random footage because I play For Honor a lot and it is one of my favorite games to play right now. The first video is "Live" which is me going up against one of the biggest characters in For Honor history, the moment is called "Clash Of The Titans". The second video is called "View" which is me going around and show you the view of For Honor, while doing the "Chameleon Run" and show of my armor, Dou watch and

Before I joined National Honors Society, I was a shy, though dutiful student. I completed assignments, turned them in, and got a good grade. Nothing more, nothing less. Though my school career appeared successful, and I had minor volunteer commitments, it wasn’t until I joined our school’s chapter that I grew to feel confident enough to pursue excellence unabashedly.

Propaganda was a predominant and effective weapon of warfare during WW1 (1914-1918) and to a very large extent; it influenced the involvement of civilians in several movements of the war. There were several elements, both stylistic and technical, incorporated within the propaganda, which created conceptions of nationalism and anti-national sentiment and involved different demographics such as North Americans and women. All these factors contributed to the enormity of war and increased the extent of people who participated in the war, whether it was in the trenches at front lines or in their towns at the home front.

Your Honor, I request to represent myself due to the financial in ability to retain an attorney. I plead Guilty to the suspended license charge; I was not aware, and not guilty to the failure to report charge. You’re Honor on August 5th 2014, after getting off work I went to a 7/11 of Newtown Road and Lake Edward Drive. I was simply there to grab a bite to eat. Once I purchased the items, I went to my vehicle the only car in the parking lot of the 7/11 roughly around 3:00am in the morning. Once I became secured in my vehicle seat belt on and ready to head home, I look over both shoulders and rearview mirror before backing out of the parking spot I was in.

Both the mother and father reminence on the time passed, their past, and become emotional and somber. The father remembers a dream that he once had, and a dream that he never completed. “Perhaps this hour would become the foothold for a new unrealizable dream” (23), this dream became unrealizable and unrealistic as the father grew restless of time. Eventually he gave up, and move on to begin a family, not looking back. The mother, on the other hand, reminiscences of the elder daughter’s childhood. While in the attic, the mother find an old dress that belonged to the eldest daughter, and she became intensely attached to it. This dress reminds her of her daughter's past, and now that the daughter is moving on, she is losing touch with it. “The girl’s mother started; she had experienced the same sad sensation long ago” (24), the mother once was young liker her daughter and feared what the future held for her, but that has since passed. Time is naturally meant to move in one direction, forward, that is what makes it so terrifying. As the mother and the father reminence and remembering their past, they look back on a path that only goes forward. The mother, or the father, want to go back and change history, relive it, maybe even stop it, “The woman was also immersed in the past” (25).But since time can only pass, the realization that they cannot go back and experience their dreams or remember what it was

Chalk flying on our bruised shins and flip flop tanned, callused feet, as the ball kept bouncing. Up and up and up we go, passing houses one at a time. The ground scorching our unclipped toes as we race the cars up the street to the shaded part of the sidewalk. Pausing, only to catch our breath we wasted on hill sprints up to cooler ground, until we realize what we're stepping on. Sap as sticky as gum that has been sitting out in the sun all day, slowly dripping from the Pine tree hanging above us as if it knew the pain we were in. Out of the shade we went, dreading what lies ahead all thinking about the logic behind not wearing shoes. Finally turned the corner that led to the shaded cul de sac when he ran into her. She was not one of those ordinary neighbors. No smile rest upon this gut wrenching face that I remember from my

The Scottsboro boys consisted of nine young men, from the ages of twelve to twenty, living in Scottsboro, Alabama during the 1930s. The racial injustice in South Alabama was at an all time high during this decade. While the public derived various opinions on the boy’s innocence or guilt, the Scottsboro Boys Trials presented a blatantly obvious verdict.