...1. The Gift of the Magi "The Gift of the Magi" is a short story written by O. Henry (a pen name for William Sydney Porter), about a young married couple and how they deal with the challenge of buying secret Christmas gifts for each other with very little money. As a sentimental story with a moral lesson about gift-giving, it has been a popular one for adaptation, especially for presentation during the Christmas season. The plot and its "twist ending" are well-known, and the ending is generally considered an example of situational irony. It was allegedly written at Pete's Tavern[2][3] on Irving Place in New York City. Plot Mr. James Dillingham Young ("Jim") and his wife, Della, are a couple living in a modest flat. They each have one possession in which they take pride: Della's beautiful long, flowing hair and Jim's gold watch, which had belonged to his father and grandfather. On Christmas Eve, with only $1.87 in hand, and desperate to find a gift for Jim, Della sells her hair for $20, and eventually finds a platinum fob chain for Jim's watch for $21. Happy to have found the perfect gift at last, she runs home and begins to prepare dinner. When Jim comes home, he looks at Della with an expression “that she could not read, and it terrified her.” Della then admits to Jim that she sold her hair to buy him his present. Jim gives Della her present — an array of expensive combs for her hair (referred to as “The Combs”). Della then shows Jim the chain she bought for him, to...
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...HAPPY PRINCE by Oscar Wilde The prince in the story is no living prince. He is the statue of a dead prince decorated with gold leaves and precious stones. He is known as the Happy Prince because there is a smile on his lips. But the smile gradually gives way to tears. The Happy Prince cannot help crying over the scenes of misery in the houses of the poor. He decides to help them with his gold leaves and costly stones. The little swallow acts as his messenger, and he gives away all his wealth. The Swallow was on his way back to his homeland when the prince had detained him to help the poor. He still wished to go back but now it was too late. The intense cold killed him. Thus the little swallow lost his life in helping the poor. His death broke the prince’s heart. So the swallow and the prince perished for a noble cause. But their death was not the end. It made them immortal. That is why the angel selected the dead swallow and the lifeless heart of the prince as the noblest things on earth. Haircut by Ring Lardner The narrator of the story is the town barber, who talks about a man by the name of Jim Kendall. Jim was a man who played cruel pranks on children and adults. Jim goes hunting with a 10-year old mentally handicapped child. When it is discovered that Jim was shot, many people in the town believed that it was an accident, although the author of the story indicates that the shooting was planned by the child, who had been tormented by Jim and wanted to get revenge...
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...Alvaro Saldana Professor Coroniti Writing and Communication July 25, 2014 Cinema Paradiso Cinema Paradiso is a movie to be felt. The film portrays the story of a boy named Salvatore “ToTo” di Vita, and the way he grows up with the story of the cinema from a town called Giancaldo in the province of Sicily. The boy bonds with a man named Alfredo who worked at the local theater, Alfredo teaches everything he knows to Salvatore until one day Alfredo has an accident and goes blind. Salvatore later fall’s in love with Elena and soon has to leave his town in order to follow his career. He returns to Giancaldo 30 years later in order to learn the lesson of letting go. The score is very beautiful and very touching throughout the film and it depicts the emotions going on very accurately. It was played during the shooting of the film, which I think makes all the difference for the actors in really feeling every scene. There was a lot of inspiration and artistry during the making of this film. From the beginning of the movie, we get to know and fall for little Salvatore and that reminds us of how we were when we were little kids. From then on we start to feel related to him and how he grows up. There are lots of emotions all throughout the film because he goes through every stage of life with the cinema at his side and how the cinema also changes. It shows you how at first even kisses were banned...
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...events in both novels to prove how fragile the sense of civilisation is in human beings, and how easy it can be to fall in the ambush of savagery as a last resort for survival. The research will analyze both novels separately from a psychoanalytical point of view then compare the findings of the two works. Introduction: The research is about two novels that tackle the same crucial theme of the evil nature in human beings. The two novels were written in different eras and as a result of different circumstances which in one way or another affected the philosophy of both of the writers. Lord of the Flies is an English novel written by William Golding in 1954. The book was written after the World War II, however, the events tell the story of English boys evacuated by a plane to safety after threats of an atomic bomb during the war. The crisis in the novel begins when this group of boys find themselves all alone on a...
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...there and then came to retrieve them an hour after closing time. He tries not to be distracted but can’t help but be. They reminisce about their lives, and a man, a self described interloper, tries to get into their conversation. At first the interloper ashes into their ashtray, but then he gives the interloper a look and the interloper moves a few feet away. It’s only when his friend describes being in a foreign country and drunk all the time that the interloper speaks again, “You sound like a lot of fun.” Then he retreats back into the bar. They sit in the mild night a bit longer before the bartender comes out to smoke a cigarette. At this point he, the he of the story, not the bartender, is telling his friend a story. The bartender interjects, “I couldn’t help but overhear, but that’s awesome.” It was a story about smoking. Smokers love each other- they’re a dying breed. Then the bartender tells them that the patio is closed, but if that they want to stay outside...
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...short stories, 250 words long look up, look to the sides, just don’t look at the reflection in the bar mirror She’s a red dress and thick rimmed glasses and all sorts of wit and intelligence in conversation. Next to her is a man that’s just a little more dim witted and a flannel shirt that was pressed just slightly too recently. And all around them are duplicates; replicants- people that are acquaintances or soon to be fair weather friends. All around them are life paths that they were one butterfly away from taking. The woman in the red dress is yawning now- opening her mouth so wide people near her can see the fills in her molars- but she doesn’t yawn consciously. She is uncouth without even giving a thought to it. She is feeling tired. More importantly, she’s feeling hungry- trying to eat in all the air that is around to prove to herself that her heart still beats and it’s not all just a dream. Among all of the people by the bar there is color- various colors- some bright, some subdued and pastel. The coloring of their clothing tell stories that are alike in their uniqueness. She lays one hand on the bar and shakes her head. He looks at her, concerned, and asks what’s wrong. “Nothing,” she lies. “Are you sure?” he asks. “Yes. Let’s dance.” She takes his hand out of his pocket, lifts him away from the bar, and they sway back and forth, back and forth, until all the notes blend into one beat. Until she can create the illusion...
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...Story of a father and a little boy who had a bad temper There once was a little boy who had a bad temper. His father gave him a bag of nails and told him that every time he lost his temper, he must hammer a nail into the fence. The first day the boy had driven 37 nails into the fence. Over the next few weeks as he learned to control his anger, the number of nails hammered daily, gradually dwindled down. He discovered it was easier to hold his temper than to drive those nails into the fence. Finally the day came when the boy didn’t lose his temper at all. He told his father about it and the father suggested that the boy now pull out one nail for each day that he was able to hold his temper. The days passed and the young boy was finally able to tell his father that all the nails were gone. The father took his son by the hand and led him to the fence. He said “you have done well, my son, but look at the holes in the fence. The fence will never be the same. When you say things in anger, they leave a scar just like this one.” You can put a knife in a man and draw it out. It won’t matter how many times you say I’m sorry, the wound is still there. Moral for the story: Make sure you control your temper the next time you are tempted to say something you will regret...
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...Kyrsten Arnold Period 4 11/1/11 Scary Story This was going to be a scary night. First, at dinnertime, my mother, father, and I had the normal Friday night meal, pizza. All three of us had gathered in the family room and ate in silence as we watched my dad’s favorite TV show “Chopped”. After I finished my last delicious bite of pepperoni pizza, I became tired of cooking competitions, so I began to wash my dishes. As I did I took a glance out the window in front of the sink and had to do a double take, because there, slightly behind a tree, only a few yards behind my house was a tall man in a long dark coat and a pitch black hat. I blinked several times and rubbed my eyes. When I looked back, he was gone. Phew, it was just my eyes playing tricks on me. I let out a relived sigh as I finished my dishes and headed up to my room to read my book. Next, at bedtime, just as I was about to pull the sheets over me, I saw him again, but he looked different. He stood in rags and this time I could see his face. His pale face was like that of a vampire and his dead gray eyes burned into mine. Then I realized he was carrying something big. My eyes grew wide and I rubbed them frantically, but when I opened them again he was still there and had moved even closer to the house. As he moved forward he stepped into a pool of moonlight and I could see what was in his hands. A chainsaw. A bloody, red chainsaw was what he carried. I wanted to scream but my mouth felt dry and scratchy, like...
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...Jamie Moore Ms. Elizabeth Munoz ENGL 1302 JUNE 16, 2014 The Protest Against Grapes One of the largest protests took place in 1965-1973. There were immigrants who were fighting for better working conditions and farmers looking for ways to cut down expenses. If consumers stop purchasing the grapes, farmers will be forced to remove the harmful pesticides. A speech was given and heard by millions, making consumers question what was in their food. This speech became known as “The Grapes of Wrath”. In the speech the Grapes of Wrath a man named Cesar Chavez spoke about the pesticides that are being used in growing grapes, were harmful to anyone in contact with the grapes. Cesar Chavez gave the speech of “The Grapes of Wrath” in 1965-1973. He dedicated his life in making a difference for immigrants working conditions. Chavez witnessed Immigrants dying every day because of the harmful pesticides used in agriculture. He organized a union called UFW (United Farm Workers of America) (Monte 10). This was the first effective farm workers’ union in America. Chavez knew that he had to find a way to stop the use of the poisonous pesticides, so he gave his speech for the consumers of the grapes. Consumers did not care what was happening to the immigrants, but they do care about what happens to them. Chavez told consumers they were eating poison and they started to listen. Chavez wanted the consumer to see and feel the dangers through his speech and facts he spoke about...
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...A STORY OF HONESTY A successful business man was growing old and knew it was time to choose a successor to take over the business. Instead of choosing one of his directors or his children, he decided to do something different. He called all the young executives in his company together. “It is time for me to step down and choose the next CEO,” he said.”I have decided to choose one of you.” The young executives were shocked, but the boss continued. “I am going to give each one of you a seed today – a very special seed. I want you plant the seed, water it, and come back here one year from today with what you have grown from the seed I have given you. I will then judge the plants that you bring, and the one I choose will be the next CEO.” One man, named Jim, was there that day and he, like the others, received a seed. He went home and excitedly, told his wife the story. She helped him get a pot, soil and compost and he planted the seed.Every day, he would water it and watch to see if it had grown.After about three weeks, some of the other executives began to talk about their seeds and the plants that were beginning to grow. Jim kept checking his seed, but nothing ever grew.Three weeks, four weeks, five weeks went by, still nothing. By now,others were talking about their plants, but Jim didn’t have a plant and he felt like a failure.Six months went by – still nothing in Jim’s pot. He just knew he had killed his seed. Everyone else had trees and tall plants, but he had nothing...
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...the message in the story. The waiting room can be a symbol of purgatory for some. “The doctor’s waiting room, which was very small was almost full when the Turpins entered and Mrs.Turpin, who was very large in her presence” (revelation 191) If O’connor would not have put in the story wouldn’t have as much meaning “it takes every word in the story to say what the meaning is.” (O’Connor 334) This critic being O’connor herself, implies it takes everything necessary to establish the meaning in the story. Without the waiting room Mrs.Turpin revelation would not have been a reality. The key to the waiting room is when Mary Grace throws the book at Mrs.Turpin, another example of symbolism. “The book struck her directly over her left eye.”(206) It is with this act that helps Mrs. Turpin achieve her revelation. The throwing of the book is seen as symbolism because that violent act opens the eyes of Mrs.Turpin. “the short story requires more drastic procedures then the novel because more has to be accomplished in less space.”(333) This critic feels this act of symbolism must be drastic enough because it will be the only thing capable of showing the error of her ways. It was essential that the book was thrown, Mrs.Turnpin being how full of herself as she was, because the violence was the only way it would be the only way to get her revelation. What Mrs.Turpin dialogue is key, without her smug talk there would be no story. She degrades many people in the story, and she constantly...
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...The Creepy Night By Bling Dog The night was cold and windy. The moon was a full moon tonight. The trees looked haunted and scary with their big shadows. The sky was completely pitch black. There was a haunted house. It had a purplish-blackish roof. The house was painted completely pitch black. The door was an indigo color. The lights were out, but the chimney was puffing out black puffy smoke. On the roof there were some very scary looking bats. They even looked real. On the front door there was a skeleton, and it kept on repeating, "Don't enter! Save Your Soul!" There were vines and plants growing over the haunted house. On a windowsill there was even a fake Chucky. When I started walking up to the door I felt like I was going to explode! I was so freaked out. I started sweating and started to shake. I was there, all alone. I wanted to scream, but it wouldn't come out. I was getting more freaked out by every step. I actually felt like I should turn back and run. But, the haunted house made me feel sort of drawn to it. A bat flew overhead and shrieked "eek!" I went to the doorknob and reached for it. It felt slimy and gooey. I looked and saw it had red stuff on it. I took the red stuff off my hand and then the doorknob. I felt the doorknob and it felt like soft wood. It was a dark maroon color and looked big compared to my little hand. When I opened the door it creaked louder and louder until I finally opened it the whole way. In the inside I smelled something burning...
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...Tuesdays with Morrie: an old man, a young man, and life’s greatest lesson By Mitch Albom Courtesy: Shahid Riaz Islamabad – Pakistan shahid.riaz@gmail.com “Tuesdays with Morrie” By Mitch Albom 2 Acknowledgments I would like to acknowledge the enormous help given to me in creating this book. For their memories, their patience, and their guidance, I wish to thank Charlotte, Rob, and Jonathan Schwartz, Maurie Stein, Charlie Derber, Gordie Fellman, David Schwartz, Rabbi Al Axelrad, and the multitude of Morrie’s friends and colleagues. Also, special thanks to Bill Thomas, my editor, for handling this project with just the right touch. And, as always, my appreciation to David Black, who often believes in me more than I do myself. Mostly, my thanks to Morrie, for wanting to do this last thesis together. Have you ever had a teacher like this? The Curriculum The last class of my old professor’s life took place once a week in his house, by a window in the study where he could watch a small hibiscus plant shed its pink leaves. The class met on Tuesdays. It began after breakfast. The subject was The Meaning of Life. It was taught from experience. No grades were given, but there were oral exams each week. You were expected to respond to questions, and you were expected to pose questions of your own. You were also required to perform physical tasks now and then, such as lifting the professor’s head to a comfortable spot on the pillow or placing his glasses on the bridge of his...
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...could not reach the water. “My beak is too big. The pitcher’s neck is very narrow. How will I get the water?” he thought. (Have the pupils predict: What do you think will the crow do so he could reach the water in the pitcher?) Then an idea came to the crow. He picked up some small stones. He dropped them into the pitcher one by one. (Have the pupils predict: After he had dropped some stones into the pitcher, what do you think will happen?) “One, two, three…” Plop, plip, plop. Little by little, the water rose in the pitcher. “Four, five, six…” Plop, plip, plop. The water rose some more. Soon the crow could reach the water. “Now, I can drink!” said the crow. “Ah! It’s cold and good!” Discussion Questions: 1. At the beginning of the story, what did the thirsty crow do? 2. Where did he find water? 3. Could he drink right away? Why not? 4. How do you think the crow felt when he could not drink? 5. What did the crow do then? 6. If you were the crow, what would you do? 7. What happened when he dropped stones into the pitcher? 8. How did the crow feel in the end? Why? 9. Do you think he is a smart crow? Why? 10. In what way can you be smart like the crow? First Quarter Week 2 Belling the Cat Adapted from Aesop by Roderick Aguirre A long time ago, there were three mice that lived in a big house. They had an enemy- Pat the Cat. Now, Pat the Cat was a...
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...Living Wills and Euthanasia Penny Hockensmith Social Ethics PHI 320 Professor Haussmann May 30th, 2012 A) It is good to be in control of my medical. B. An informed living will prescribes my medical decisions when I am unconscious. C. A living will is good. Should living wills over ride doctors and caretakers? THE STORY Imagine someone you love or better yet, imagine yourself lying in a hospital bed oblivious to the world around you, unable to move or show any signs of life, your own existence controlled by an I.V., a respiratory machine, and a feeding tube. In essence you are dead. Your body is no longer able to sustain life, its entire purpose is now replaced by a machine - you are being kept alive by artificial means. At this point the question arises - should you be kept alive by these means or should you be allowed to die a natural death? Unfortunately you are unable to answer this question because your voice is limited to a "beep" on a heart monitor machine. Who then is going to decide if you live artificially or die naturally? Who gets to play God? Well, if your family doesn't have your written consent in the form of a living will, to cease life support, then the doctor will make the ultimate decision for both you and your family. Most often this is the case. Even though writing a living will is just as easy if not easier than writing a death will, many people don't take the time to do so. Therefore, doctors have to debate the question of euthanasia – a question...
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