Love Given Freely

Kindness is...
Strong yet gently
Like a mother's touch

A helpful hand
Whether there are spectators or not

Or a kind smile
Elating a soul's day.

Kindness is...
A compliment
That leaves behind memories forever

A random deed
Done at the ends of the Earth

Or caring for a friend
In the deepest of trenches.

Kindness is...
Teaching about the Father
Forever rescuing a soul

Never leaving
Although sometimes you want to run

Or lifting someone up
To a ledge where they will never fall.

Kindness is...
Love given freely
When no other love can be found.

A Broken Man With a Big Dream: A character Analysis of Crooks from Of Mice and Men

Sometimes we meet people we think are stuck up and self-centered,, or maybe pessimistic and hopeless. As humans, we tend to stick a label on people without taking into consideration what turned them into that character in the first place. While reading John Steinbeck’s “Of Mice and Men”, Crook’s appears as an “aloof” character full of arrogance. Crook’s, although it is hidden well behind a façade of stubbornness and pride, has the common dream of living off his own land and being treated as a human, instead of a “southern Negro.”

Crooks first wants, in some way, no matter how small and insignificant, to be accepted. When Lennie walks into Crook’s room in the barn, Crooks tries to get rid of Lennie because “[he] ain’t wanted in the bunkhouse” so “[Lennie] ain’t wanted in [Crooks’] room.” But as time progresses, Crooks’ autonomous act fails him and he gives in, allowing Lennie to “come on in and set awhile.” First, Crook’s allowed his general response to come out, but soon, he let down the carefully built walls around his true feelings and allowed Lennie to come in and keep him company. Crooks appears to be rude and stuck up, but he has actually been taught by habit and past experience that life is simpler if you play “tough-guy” and don’t open up.

Ever since his childhood, Crooks has been stripped of his humanity, confidence, and dreams. Crooks discussed with Lennie how “Everybody wants land” and how, as far as he can see, “never a God da** one of [those people] ever gets it.” Although Crooks says this, he later offers “a hand to work for nothing-just his keep.” Crooks has the same dream as all the man on the ranch; he just refuses to admit it. Crooks says that, used to, “the white kids come to play at [their] place” and “sometimes [Crooks] went to play with them” but “[his] ol’ man didn’t like that” and if “[he] says something…it’s just a nigger sayin’ it.” His memories also hold his land back in California where they “had a strawberry patch… an’ an alfalfa patch” and him and his brothers would “set on a fence rail and watch em’.” Even if Crooks doesn’t admit the fact, he had a nice piece of land and a nice childhood at one time, but now he can’t even say something and be taken seriously! Somewhere in the past, he had a dream, but it was ripped from his grasp. He now locks his feelings away to avoid the pain that he felt the first time his dreams were crushed.

A few moments later that same day, Curley’s wife comes into the room and begins taunting Lennie, so Crooks tell her to “get out and get out quick” and threatens to “ast the boss not to ever let [her] come in the barn. Curley’s wife snaps, pointing out her authority by reminding Crooks that she “could get [him] strung up on a tree so easy it ain’t even funny” to which Crooks replies by “[drawing] into himself” and rebuilding the walls around his ambitions. Crooks had finally been let out of his shell by Lennie and Candy. He was finally allowed to dream again, and it was so quickly yanked away, like a toy from a baby. Crooks, behind his powerful mask, is a broken man.

Crooks tries to hide behind a pretense of a heartless, noncaring man, but no one is perfect. When Crooks’ act fails, readers get a glimpse of the real him, a broken man with a big dream.

Small Town Story

 Sulfur Rock. Somewhere, between Batesville and Newark, a small town composed of a meager population of 421 people strives to amplify its existence. The town consists of a school, a few houses, a post office, and acres upon acres of open land, each square foot capturing the original beauty of the earth as God intended it to be. Dragonflies dive between the knee-high grass like kamikaze pilots, and it’s not uncommon to see a fire in the distance; the silhouettes of family and friends wrapped around its warmth.

The simplicity of life in this small town has a way of drawing people together. No social structure exists. No restraints to constrict one’s choices.  Everyone becomes a person, not a label. Each individual knows the other and waves as they pass on the streets, usually exchanging a few words along the way. Children can ride their bikes on the sidewalks with no fear of being harmed. There are no traffic jams, no horns blaring. Instead, there are birds chirping, and crickets singing. There is laughter echoing around street corners as kids are free to play while their parents converse with backs turned,  full confidence that no harm will come to their child, creating a sensation of serenity, peace, and security.

After a while in Sulphur Rock, one begins to notice something else unusual.

A lack of limits and fear.

 The unity and strength within the town is so thick, its palpability didn’t just reach its citizens. And the acres of open land are an illustration of the greatness of its creator, taking away any futility or fear of failure.

Ultimately, Sulfur Rock stands as a beacon to all as a place with no confinements and no limits. A place to spread wings, and fly.

Choices

Ten years ago, our country was attacked by terrorists as they plunged two planes into the World Trade Center. This was a very complicated time for our country, with big decisions to be made, but at the same time, Bin Laden was making big decisions too. This being one of Al Queda's biggest attacks, he had to have the right people to do it. I'm not sure how he chose these men, but it was probably based, not on physical strength, but on mental strength. These men had to be able to focus enough to pray specific prayers before they actually hit the towers and focus completely on God and how this was a task for him. Bin Laden had probably observed these men for a while before picking them to do this job. The men he picked had to be strong believers and have strong minds to 'make an oath to die' and complete the task at hand.

I am...

I am an amiable, panicky, perfectionist who loves string cheese.

I wonder how mankind survived before spicy nacho Doritos.

I hear ‘nothing is impossible’ no matter who is telling me it is.

I see my name on the cover of a best-selling book.

I want to find true love.

I am an amiable, panicky, perfectionist who loves string cheese.

I pretend nothing ever hurts me.

I feel everyone’s burdens as if they are my own.

I touch hearts as often as I can.

I worry that I can’t make a difference.

I cry when I fall short.

I am an amiable, panicky, perfectionist who loves string cheese.

I understand that no one is perfect.

I say that Christ hung on the cross for me and will return again.

I dream about being valedictorian in 2014.

I try to avoid starting World War III with my hair.

I hope I will go somewhere in life and leave a mark when I’m gone.

I am an amiable, panicky, perfectionist who loves string cheese.

I am me!

Looking for Prejudice

When I picked up the book “Pride and Prejudice” by Jane Austen, I was mainly thinking ‘How am I going to deal with suffering through this?’, but, without my knowing it, my subconscious was thinking that one main character would have a problem with being too prideful while the other would be extremely prejudiced. I spent a lot of the time I was reading looking for signs of pride and prejudice in Mrs. Bennett and Mr. Darcy’s characters.

 I could clearly see where the pride came into play on many occasions throughout the story on both Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennett’s point of view. Mrs. Bennett was constantly going on about how Mr. Darcy was full of himself and full of pride. But, in Mr. Darcy’s defense, Mrs. Bennett’s pride caused her to be offended by all of Mr. Darcy’s actions. In my opinion, her pride also blinded her from all points of view when Lydia ran away with Mr. Wickham. It seemed as if she was worried more so about the family name than she was the wellbeing of her sister. But I found it harder to pick out the signs of prejudice. It was definitely illustrated by Mr. Darcy, Lady Catherine, and Mr. Bingley’s sister by their abhorrence toward the poorer lifestyle. But, aside from this, I found no other major signs of prejudice on any characters part.

I also noticed that I could relate to Mr. Darcy because he was quiet. Because of this he was considered self centered and prideful, but sometimes, he was just shy and didn’t know how to act in the situations he was put in. At times, everyone feels uncomfortable in the situation they are in and everyone reacts in a different way. Mr. Darcy, very much like me, was just shy.

During the reading of "Pride and Prejudice" it bothered me that I couldn't find as many signs of prejudice as I could pride. Nonetheless,“Pride and Prejudice” describes a society that, aside from clothing, is very much like our own. Every human has some form of pride and whether it is voiced or not, they feel hurt when they are insulted. Like Mr. Darcy, most people have some sort of situation that they feel uncomfortable in. And like the five Bennett sisters, in most people’s minds, wealth, a good husband, and the family name, play a large roll, making “Pride and Prejudice” very relatable, even though we live many years ahead of the time she wrote it.

Little Big Things

Earlier today, while my mom and I were trying to make our way through the death trap that we call the parking lot of Wal-Mart, we passed a little girl around the age of seven, skipping between the cars beside her mother. Her long, blonde braid bounced, and her lips were frozen in a large smile as she tried to keep up with her Mennonite mother and the buggy. The reason for the little girl’s hurry wasn’t necessarily her mother, but the large, pink, striped ball in the basket. I can remember many times I was excited for something, my ipod that I got in fifth grade, or my first cell phone in sixth, but I don’t remember ever being as excited as that girl looked for a large ball. It was the simplest thing, yet it meant so much. This is illustrated well by the popular Zac Brown Band song, ‘Chicken Fried’.

My grandmother tells me stories all the time about when she was younger. She had a basket ball that popped and it devastated her. When she had a doll made of glass, it eventually broke, earning her grievance again.

‘It’s funny how it’s the little things in life that mean the most.’ People are so advanced today that we sometimes lose sight of real happiness. ‘Not where you live or what you drive or the price tag on your clothes.’ The little girl wore a brilliant smile, even though she was wearing a plain gray dress that her mother had probably crafted for her at home instead of the name brand t-shirts that it seems a requirement to own.

When we were little kids, I think we had a better understanding of what happiness means than we do now. It’s not the newest Ipod, or the name brand t-shirts. It’s a big pink ball, playing marbles with your grandfather, or horseshoes with your dad. It’s not having the most money. It’s the little moments worth remembering. It’s not the nicest car or the most expensive clothing. It’s having the most care, family, and love.


http://www.metrolyrics.com/chicken-fried-lyrics-zac-brown-band.html

Emphasizing the I in lIfe

The six most important words: "I admit I made a mistake."
The five most important words: "You did a good job."
The four most important words: "What is your opinion?"
The three most important words: "If you please."
The two most important words: "Thank you."
The one most important word: "We."
The least important word: "I"
                        --author unknown
                            as sited in "more of...the best of bits & pieces", Rob Gilbert, PH.D. ED.
                           Lists to Live By

Last week my mom threatened to charge my little brother one dollar every time he said the word ‘me’ and five dollars every time he said the word ‘I’. You see, my little brother has developed a habit of asking for anything and everything whenever he pleases. Now, he doesn’t throw a fit if the answer is no, but there is constant ‘can I… can I… can I’ as my dad puts it.

 Very obviously, there is an ‘I’ in life…literally and theoretically. People have heedlessly accented this little letter to the point that it has become a major part of life. And this one letter word is the cause of many problems we face. Problems ranging in severity from a sister taking her little brothers blanket on the front pew in church to World Wars because one country has more land than another! A great example is 9/11. Our towers were targeted because we didn’t follow the same religion as the Muslims. The only people the Muslims were thinking about were themselves. But we turned that around by only thinking about ourselves when we bombarded Iraq and killed many innocent people all for the sake of getting our revenge!

Imagine a world where no one was physically capable of thinking about themselves. People could be concerned with everything else, from their neighbors to Marshans on Mars; anything but themselves. There would be no petty fights over the use of a blanket; there would be no kindling for a war. Poverty would virtually disappear! There would be no problems with recessions and depressions! Drought and famine wouldn’t mean a thing because people would be lining up to share any food they had! Imagine a world like that; a world that was almost the opposite of ours; a world where the word ‘I’ was never invented.

This. Is. Me.

This is who I am as a writer, a reader, and a person in eighteen words. Yes. Eighteen words. It's hard, but not impossible.
 click on the photo below to read.