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The importance of children's friendships
Literary techniques
The importance of children's friendships
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Two Kingdoms
Snow still has been falling from the sky in the little town of Coventry since the day started. The little orphanage from the crossroads was almost buried in snow, but the kids were excited. They have never seen so much snow in their entire lives. You could’ve heard their laughs from a mile. They quickly started to build a snowman, to ride their sleigh or have a snowball fight. All the kids were outside playing, but a little girl of seven, with fair and wavy hair, down on her shoulders. Her deep brown eyes were sad, but he was quite pretty, even if she didn’t know that yet. She had the looks and the manners of a prince, though she was a girl. Her favorite things to do were reading and writing stories. He had great imagination. She wished other kids would play with her, but she often seemed invisible to them. Her only friend was a boy of 9, with blue deep eyes, who promised to watch on her and he often played with her.
“Ray, come out …you would never guess how much snow is outside…It’s like our dream came true”
Her name was Rawiya, which signified “storyteller”, but her friend called her simply Ray.
She turned her eyes and opened them wide in unbelief.
“Alexander, it can’t be true. It can’t snow with such a rainy climate that we have. You must be kidding”
“No, Ray….I’m telling the truth…Please, come and see for yourself”
Rawiya got out of the little cottage and her eyes brightened seeing the beautiful, white and fluffy snow from under her feet. She ran and threw herself in the snow and started making angels in the snow. She was dancing like never before and you could have seen the joy in her eyes. Alexander looked at her mesmerized, and the other kids were stunned. But they quickly came to their senses and started to ...
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...again. None of the animals could make her happy. On the third day, she heard her name. Someone was calling for her. She thought it was Orlaith, because he was the only one who could somehow comforted her aching heart, after losing her beloved brother. But she raised her eyes and she saw something wonderful. She couldn’t believe her eyes. Her brother, the unicorn, was coming towards her in all his splendor. He was even glorious than before and whiter than snow. The horn was shining even more.
“How could this be?” she asked. “Is it a dream?”
“No, my dear Rawiya”. “I am real. I overcame death and here I am. And your friends are here also. I overcame death and now they can be humans again”. It was true. In front of her, there were standing four elves, joyful and merry. They all hugged each other and celebrated Lafiel’s victory over death at a ball they had in the palace.
While Snow Falling on Cedars has a well-rounded cast of characters, demands strong emotional reactions, and radiates the importance of racial equality and fairness, it is not these elements alone that make this tale stand far out from other similar stories. It is through Guterson’s powerful and detailed imagery and settings that this story really comes to life. The words, the way he uses them to create amazing scenes and scenarios in this story, makes visualizing them an effortless and enjoyable task. Streets are given names and surroundings, buildings are given color and history, fields and trees are given height and depth, objects are given textures and smells, and even the weather is given a purpose in the...
Many overlook the beauty that is expressed by nature. The images put together in nature influenced Mary Oliver’s “First Snow.” The beauty expressed in “First Snow” shows how there is hidden beauty in nature such as snow. Also how snow, not so simple, is something so stunning and breath taking. The descriptions of Oliver’s visions show that many things are overlooked in nature and shouldn’t be. She elaborates to show that nature sets forth not just snow, but something so much more. Mary Oliver uses many examples and proofs to show the beauty. In “First Snow” Mary Oliver conveys the image of snow to embody the beauty of nature.
He fig-ured that the normal half hour walk home might take as long as two hours in snow this deep. And then there was the wind and the cold to contend with. The wind was blowing across the river and up over the embankment making the snow it carried colder and wetter than the snow blanketing the ground. He would have to use every skill he’d learned, living in these hills, to complete the journey without getting lost, freezing to death, or at the very least ending up with a severe case of frostbite be-fore he made it back to Ruby.
In the small, desolate town of Starkfield, Massachusetts, Ethan Frome lives a life of poverty. Not only does he live hopelessly, but “he was a prisoner for life” to the economy (Ammons 2). A young engineer from outside of town narrates the beginning of the story. He develops a curiosity towards Ethan Frome and the smash-up that he hears about in bits and pieces. Later, due to a terrible winter storm that caused the snow itself to seem like “a part of the thickening darkness, to be the winter night itself descending on us layer by layer” (Wharton 20), the narrator is forced to stay the night at Frome’s. As he enters the unfamiliar house, the story flashes back twenty-four years to Ethan Frome’s young life. Living out his life with Zenobia Frome, his hypochondriac of a wife whom he does not love, Ethan has nowhere to turn for a glance at happiness. But when Zenobia’s, or Zeena’s, young cousin, Mattie Silver, comes to care for her, Ethan falls in love with the young aid. Mattie is Ethan’s sole light in life and “she is in contrast to everything in Starkfield; her feelings bubble near the surface” (Bernard 2). All through the novella, the two young lovers hide their feelings towards each other. When they finally let out their true emotions to each other in the end, the consequence is an unforeseen one. Throughout Ethan Frome, Edith Wharton portrays a twisted fairy tale similar to the story of Snow White with the traditional characters, but without a happy ending to show that in a bleak and stark reality, the beautiful and enchanting maiden could become the witch.
cold, harsh, wintry days, when my brothers and sister and I trudged home from school burdened down by the silence and frigidity of our long trek from the main road, down the hill to our shabby-looking house. More rundown than any of our classmates’ houses. In winter my mother’s riotous flowers would be absent, and the shack stood revealed for what it was. A gray, decaying...
Looking out across the stone-paved road, she watched the neighborhood inside the coffee colored fence. It was very similar to hers, containing multiple cookie-cutter homes and an assortment of businesses, except no one was there was her color and no one in her neighborhood was their color. All of them had chocolate skin with eyes and hair that were all equally dark. Across the road to her right, a yellow fence contained honey colored people. She enjoyed seeing all the little, squinted almond eyes, much smaller then her own, which were wide set and round. One little, sunshine colored boy with dark straight hair raised his arm and waved his hand, but before she could do the same back her father called her into the house. His lips were pressed and his body was rigid, the blue of his eyes making direct contact with her
It was a sunny day with a sweet aroma of blooming tulips. The sunlight glittered on their faces as the breeze rattled the chestnut tree above. There was an occasional giggle as they talked, but there was also a hint of discomfort and awkwardness between them as they peeked at each other’s face and recoiled when the other looked up. When the bell rang twice, I saw them say goodbye and walk away from each other. In the darkness of the crowd, a glimmer flashed into my eyes from Hannah’s cheeks.
Julia Alvarez. “Snow”. Portable Literature: Reading, Reacting, Writing. Ed. Lauren G, Kirszner and Stephen R. Mandell. 8th ed. Boston, Wadsworth 2011. 75-76. Print
As you can tell, I really like the snow, but what you don’t know is, I REALLY HATE THE COLD WEATHER. I wish it could snow in the summertime, but let’s get real, we all know that’s never going to happen. DId you know that the world record for the most snow fallen in one day, is ultimately
“*no. why would i sell such fine snow for just a third of the price?”
Neil Gaiman’s “Snow, Glass, Apples” is far from the modern day fairy tale. It is a dark and twisted version of the classic tale, Snow White. His retelling is intriguing and unexpected, coming from the point of view of the stepmother rather than Snow White. By doing this, Gaiman changes the entire meaning of the story by switching perspectives and motivations of the characters. This sinister tale has more purpose than to frighten its readers, but to convey a deeper, hidden message. His message in “Snow, Glass, Apples” is that villains may not always be villains, but rather victims.
The runners of sled kept cutting through the powdery snow until Jonas came to an abrupt stop at the bottom of the hill. He was confused as to how my memories were flashing so vividly because he thought they were all forgotten. He thought what he heard coming down the hill was what the Giver had called music. Jonas had Gabe clenched in his arms then he looked up to see a beautifully and vibrant colored city. He could tell Gabe saw all the colors with the decorations that they had used. He was interested because he had never seen all these colors before.
Standing on the balcony, I gazed at the darkened and starry sky above. Silence surrounded me as I took a glimpse at the deserted park before me. Memories bombarded my mind. As a young girl, the park was my favourite place to go. One cold winter’s night just like tonight as I looked upon the dark sky, I had decided to go for a walk. Wrapped up in my elegant scarlet red winter coat with gleaming black buttons descending down the front keeping away the winter chill. Wearing thick leggings as black as coal, leather boots lined with fur which kept my feet cozy.
The year was 1992; a cold December arctic wind had brought a chance of snow to the area. It was the weekend and time to relax after a long hard week at work. The weather service had predicted several inches of snow to blanket the region by the next day. Not to worry: it was the weekend and traveling was not a necessity.
The Life of a Child- Original Writing The first fall of snow is not only an event, but it is a magical