“Weaved from leaves. And adorned with beautiful flowers. I want to place the flower crown on my love’s head…”
Do you know this song? There was a boy falling in love with a mountain girl who had a warm heart. Who was she? It’s me. Not only he loved me, but I also liked him. I couldn’t forget our first meeting, his profession of love and saying good-bye.
I lived in the countryside near a mountain in my childhood. There were many things to play. When spring came to my town, we caught frog eggs and raised them until tadpoles were born as breaking through their house. And we used to swim in a stream every summer. Even some boys were naked in front of the girls, but they were not ashamed of themselves. We picked wild fruits down and shared them in autumn, made a snowman and slid over the snow in a sleigh in winter. When we came back home from the school someone started call other children. One a sunny day, I went out as usual and I saw they had a racing game. I played with earth because I didn’t want to run. “Alike!!!” A scream was heard from there. There was a boy who was crying. He fell ...
This short story written by Richard Wright is a very well written, and has a very good plot and keeps the reader entertained throughout. From the dialogue to the characters, who inhabit the world crafted by Wright its very intriguing. On the surface it appears to be just a story about childhood disobedience in general, but the overall theme is much deeper than that.
about how children live in a world of their own in which no adult can
Before she dies, Ophelia makes garlands of flowers, like a child would. "Fantastic garlands did she make/ Of crowflowers, nettles, daisies, and long purples" (4.7.169-170). During this time, she is reflecting on her childhood, her innocence, and the way life was when everything surrounding her was good and u...
The frogs were singing again. I had heard them all night through the thin membrane of my tent. Their songs had died down with the rising sun, but now they picked up again with a fervor that sounded not unlike desperation to my teenage ears. I rested in the tent only a few moments before clearing the sleep from my eyes and springing out of my sleeping bag to greet the mourning. Dew droplets still covered everything, and the mourning seemed as magical as any other morning does to a young person of sixteen, camping in the woods.
Even though the speaker is less than thrilled about the “filigree” of hair ribbons she still makes the choice to refer to women as flowers (Line 4). Speaking of women as flowers immediately evokes thoughts within readers of delicateness which appears contrary to what the speaker was saying a few lines prior. However, looking deeper into the lines that read, “…nor twine/ A flower with your strength” readers see that speaker uses contrast to depict the uniqueness of womanhood (Lines 3-4). Here the speaker suggests that yes, woman are gentle, but woman are also very capable and durable much like flowers that withstand rain and wind. Just like men, women can endure and handle situations. So, women’s “flowery” quality is merely an extra advantage that men of those times should not have exuded at all according to
Papalia, D. E., Olds, Wendkos S., Feldman, Duskin R. (2008). A child’s world: infancy through adolescence (11th ed.) New York: McGraw-Hill; Retrieved on March 25th,2011
There once was a boy named Joseph Anthony Reyes. To the naked eye he seemed like every other eleven year old boy on Pinewood Drive. He was short and scrawny with unkempt, brown hair that fell just below his ears. His little legs flew him off the bus and through the yard. He reached the front porch; opened and then slammed the door; threw off his back pack; ran his way threw the living room and found himself in the backyard. The rocks were all accounted for as well as the small scraps of wood. His father’s tool belt was in the corner of his eye, when his mother opened the back door.
In my creative piece, “There’s A Monster In My Bed. Don’t You See? Don’t You See?” illustrates an animal story in the form of a poem with 26 stanzas and each stanza consisting of 4 lines. The focus of my poem comes from the influence of Beatrix Potter’s The Tale of Peter Rabbit and Dr. Seuss’s The Cat in the Hat. Using Potter’s and Seuss’s texts as my inspiration, I established a narrative that combines a mixture of Potter’s and Seuss’s language and style to convey an animal story. Similar to both The Tale of Peter Rabbit and The Cat in the Hat, I used the genre of the animal story to engage with children and childhood imagination. The animal story itself focuses on the animals as the protagonist and tend to be didactic, naturalistic
I met her two years ago and we did not have much to say at that time. Little did I know that she would later steal my heart and become an intimate part of my life. As the saying goes "there is someone for anyone at any time in this life" and I was about to find out that this saying was so true. I have had a wall built around me and my defense was as a stronghold to protect myself from all the relationships that have come and gone over the years. I thought that I was meant to be alone in this old life and happiness was forever gone from me. This wonderful woman I am speaking of is Mary Doe, and the joy she has given me has revived my hope and faith that I may have finally found love and peace within. She has made me feel like I am a child and I am holding on to her with loving arms and a smile that seems to never end. It has been such a long time since I have felt this way and I am so happy at last. I have learned so much from my past and will never forget the lessons I have been through. Being a kid at heart, but still with age creeping up on me, I have been told by Mary Doe that as long as we are together we will grow old side by side and enjoy life as long as we live. I have asked myself many times, "why did I not settle down as a younger man" and now I have the answer. It was time and destiny that we should meet and find love with one another. Am I scared, just a little, but it is not of loseing her I may add. She is laying in bed now asleep as I write this and I barely contain myself to see her beautiful face when she comes walking into my office at home. Everytime I see her it is as if it is the first time we met, and oh how I find this so appealing. Many many years have past before we met but it was well worth the wait I ass...
natural process, instead it emerges from social, historical and cultural practices, (Norozi and Moen, 2016). Furthermore, the social studies of childhood include the idea that children are social actors in their own right and are actively involved in the construction of their own lives (Prout and James, 1990). The focus of my photo report will be to discuss this view through the example of games. The images I will present, taken from the V&A Museum of Childhood, will develop the aforementioned idea further. Throughout my essay I will debate whether children are active in the construction of their childhood or whether children are dependent on society to construct
I woke up in the morning to see my little sister Ruth. She had sea-green eyes like my mom and dark brown cinnamon colored wavy hair like my dad. Caught to my surprise, the window was ajar and I could smell the awful malodor surrounding the streets. When I looked out of the window, I saw dead-unattended corpses who needed to be buried in the cemetery which was located down the alleyway. I looked away in disgust. “ Mary! Are you awake? For if you are, then come down and help me with breakfast,” yelled my mom. “Uh…,” I sighed to myself. Just another normal day in this boring little town of Abington. Next to me, my sister started to stir awake. I gently put my hand on her back and started to soothe her back to her soporific. After my sister’s breathing finally started to slow down, I got out of my mattress even
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.
It was a winter day in a small village called Lakeside with a population of about only 700 in Germany, where Lauren, a blonde haired girl with a bob haircut and is fun to be around and clumsy... Gracie, a girl who has long brown hair that blows in the wind and always has the latest fashion and shoes and loves to wear makeup, and Sophie, a girl who has short brown hair and is skinny and will laugh at about everything you say, attended Lakeside Middle school, love to learn, and be friends. On Thursday at school one day there conversation went like this,
The day seemed perfect. The sun was shining through the fluffy white clouds in the sky. The leaves on the trees had turned colors and were beautiful to watch from the windows. We traveled up and down hills like we were riding a roller coaster. When we finally arrived at our destination, we slowed down and pulled over into a small parking area at the top of a large hill. My parents opened the doors and stepped out warning us, “Stay inside the blazer and do not touch anything.” We wanted to go with them, but there was a steep hill to climb and they said they...
A red brick house on top of a small hill is where my memories reside. A slightly curved gravel road led to the front of the house. Eight or nine rose brown apple trees randomly covered the plush green lawn. Down the small hill, muddy brown water trickled down a ditch with cattails surrounding it. One enormous willow tree sat in the background, to the right of the house, to complete the picture. It almost seemed like a picture from a postcard. But when you're a kid none of this really matters. All that really matters to you is to have as much fun as possible. My memories don't come just from this beautiful picture but from the little things making it.