Remainder

My first activity that I was involved in with Catholic Social Services was the food pantry. As my children progressed through high school, I knew certain classes or clubs were involved with participating in food drives. Our house was one of the most targeted homes for quite some time as we live directly across the street from St. Michael’s Elementary School which is where some of the organizations met. St. Cecilia’s is also a school that requires wearing a uniform and, occasionally, the kids could

“At least you were alive long enough to experience your birthday.” The incident took place three days after my birthday. I have received an assortment of condolences in my lifetime, but this one definitively trounced its comrades. On Saturday, March 28th of 2015, my goals and ambitions came to a sporadic halt with the possibility that I might not be fit to conquer these objectives in the near future, if at all. Ten minutes until 7 o’clock in the evening, I was driving east on Independence Boulevard

still get a good grade, but now, I know that I can’t do that. Although this class will be a challenge, I’m glad that I put myself into it, because it forces me to do better on my assignments and helps prepare me for college, next year. For the remainder of this semester I am going to strive for many things. For starters, I would like to receive an A average on all of my essays and assignments. I believe that if I put my very best effort into all of my work, that I can easily accomplish this goal

“Watch out. She’s in a bad mood again today” sighed Mr. Hodge, who was one of the other 5th grade teachers. Hearing this upon entering my class at the start of school is never a good way to start the day. Especially if your teacher is Mrs. Stewart. It was in the middle of my last year in elementary school, and I was already accustomed to Mrs. Stewart’s tenacity. She pounced on any student when she got the chance, and today was my lucky day. Mrs. Stewart not only hindered my love for literature

When you think of healthcare you think of an environment that is nurturing and caring, sensitive to ones needs and concerns. That is not always the case, especially when you are from another country and getting older. You sometimes find that things are more challenging and harder for you to make sense of. The environment we live in does not always sympathize with the struggles of the aging, even more so if the people you deal with are unsure of your capabilities to understand what they may find easier

I trotted down the dusty road to the farms to do my everyday work, and started thinking of what if I was a Noble? Eating two immense meals per day, and being the wealthiest in the kingdom! I stepped in something and it slightly collapsed under my foot. I brought my attention back, and I nervously looked down. I saw a very rare material, never used in poor villages like this: Clay! I scooped it up with difficulty, and ran back to my home. “Look! Look!” I yelled, but no one seemed to be there

no longer had a purpose to stay. Following this occasion, I started to ask around for places to live, I even went as far as looking for rooms to rent in the area. Generously one of my best friends, Jessica, offered to let me stay with her for the remainder of the school year. She and her parents took me in days later, accepting me with loving arms. Living with my friends family started to become more of a home to me than any home I’d lived in prior. This transformation in my life was one of the first

others’ wagons looked the same as ours, but with our decision to leave behind most of our books and pictures we did not need to deal with tossing them out and getting all of the small broken glass pieces out of the wagon. We camped there for the remainder of that day despite the urges made by Sam to keep moving on. It is true that we could have gotten to Fort Kearney if we had left that second, but after a draining and scary day everyone-except Sam-was ready to camp for the

I have carefully read and examined the clues and articles related to the so call crucified Canadian soldier. After doing so, I have come to a conclusion that the Canadian was not in fact crucified as many believed. In this article, I’ll explain the reason and clues that I found that confirmed that this Canadian had not been crucified. The first thing I looked into was the articles written around the globe on both May 18th, 1915, June 28th, 1915, and The Great War video posted on March 18th, 2017

Observations of Kayla were completed at her home and community. Each time, she was appropriately attired, and hygiene was adequate. Kayla and her family live in a nice size home on a large lot to accommodate their family business. In the initial interview at home, Kayla appeared to be shy at first and let her mother, Karen, answer the majority of questions. After about an hour, she opened up and talked about her interests and things she likes to do in her spare time. During observations at home