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Comparing two different cultures
Comparing and contrasting two cultures
Families unconditional love
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Recommended: Comparing two different cultures
I took a sip of my tea off my mother’s delicate cup. The fragrant scent of peppermint Christmas eases my mind. I sense warmth in the air, but the sun is still accompanied by the clouds. A few gentle freezes frequently blew my hair, causing it to brush against my cheek softly. But no matter how hard I try to let my soul enjoy these little things, loneliness deemed to be felt. Here I am sitting on my cushioned chair in my back porch, with my eyes feasting on hues. The fields of blossomed variations of flowers have taken over my backyard. This lively color-filled atmosphere is the reason why I brought up my unintended visit to the filling station, in the countryside, of course.
He was still there, very much present, looking at me with a slight grin on his face while flipping the pages of a magazine.
“And then? Aren’t you going to tell me what happened after you arrive at there? Don’t leave my curiosity hanging,” He said, gently pestering me to continue my story.
“There isn’t much to tell actually,” I began again, “I saw a hairy old man, wearing a monkey suit. Not your kind of suit, I suppose. In addition to that, he was also quite fat. So it was definitely not a pleasant sight.”
My hint of humor enlightened him. He chuckled, “But was that really the only thing you’ve encountered there? Tell me more, why does this place intrigue you so much?”
“Not quite. I’ll get to that, just let me finish,” I said, while trying to put myself back together. I was getting a bit weary because of the
The sound of the neighbor’s barking dog and magazine he held refreshed my memory.
“Well, you can’t help but notice how dull and filthy it was. It strikes me so much – perhaps a tad bit too much that it overwhelms my brain. You wouldn’t like the pl...
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...r him, and his sons. Somebody embroidered the doily, waters the begonia and arranges the cans. I need that. I mean, everybody does. These little actions might seem insignificant, but it’s an evidence of unconditional love. It makes you feel complete, and nothing else matters.”
It takes time for me to digest his words, and experience what he feels. How could my thoughts be so shallow? How could I be so condescending? I may be wealthier, more educated, but without a love like that, the quality of my life will always be poorer than them. They have everything that I have been living without.
Suddenly, all at once, I felt unwanted and cheated by life because of how unfair everything seemed.
“Well then, it’s simple. If somebody could love every bit of that hopeless place and that old, fat, hairy man, then somebody definitely can love you, too. Somebody loves us all.”
" What is it " I asked looking at them in concern. Voltaire pushes them out the door and hushes them. He brought back a small piece of armor and I looked in the reflection.
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...
"From the time of my marriage to this day the love I have borne my wife has been sincere and unabated; and only those who have felt the glowing tenderness a father cherishes for his offspring, can appreciate my affection for the beloved children which have since been born to us" (22).
The arrival of winter was well on its way. Colorful leaves had turned to brown and fallen from the branches of the trees. The sky opened to a new brightness with the disappearance of the leaves. As John drove down the country road he was much more aware of all his surroundings. He grew up in this small town and knew he would live there forever. He knew every landmark in this area. This place is where he grew up and experienced many adventures. The new journey of his life was exciting, but then he also had a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach of something not right.
Love is the greatest gift that God has bestowed upon mankind. Defining love is different for every culture, race, and religion. Walt Whitman’s love is ever changing for anyone who tries to love him or understand his work. Love can be broken down into a multitude of emotions, and feelings towards someone or some object. In order to find love that is searched for, preparations must be made to allow the full experience of Whoever You Are Holding Me Now in Hand by Walt Whitman to be pious. Walt Whitman’s poem is devoted to the fullness of love, and a description of fantasy and reality. A journey to find love starts with knowledge that both participants are willing, and able to consummate their love in judgment under God. Time is the greatest accomplice to justify the energy and sacrifice needed to start developing the ingredients needed for love to grow. Each stanza is a new ingredient to add to the next stanza. Over time, this addition of each stanza will eventually lead to a conclusion. A conclusion that love is ever changing, and people must either change along with love or never know the miracle of love.
“Now there can't be such a place. Not a place without love. I can't imagine it.”
The wind whispered outside my flower curtains. My Rosemary garden swayed to the noiseless tune. I sit quietly watching their soft movement, the flowers I worked hard to nurse. The rest of my yard remained parched, with time it had given defeat to the hot Alabama sky.I glared at the cracked dirt, cursing it for giving in to the pressure, praying I won't do the same .I sip the cool lemon ice tea, the cubes of ice brush on my dry lips.
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.
“Maybe he has something to do with Dareon existing. You know this is crazy Violet, that we are talking about a world that most likely doesn’t exist. I mean I am trying to listen to all of this and analyze it, but I can’t really relate since I have never even been there.”
“Did I ever tell you about the troll I met in the Forbidden Forest?” he asked.
We slowly crept around the corner, finally sneaking a peek at our cabin. As I hopped out of the front seat of the truck, a sharp sense of loneliness came over me. I looked around and saw nothing but the leaves on the trees glittering from the constant blowing wind. Catching myself standing staring around me at all the beautiful trees, I noticed that the trees have not changed at all, but still stand tall and as close as usual. I realized that the trees surrounding the cabin are similar to the being of my family: the feelings of never being parted when were all together staying at our cabin.
...ming with life. The smell of the flowers was intense and enlivening. The breeze that was not restricted by car windows, the heat that was not reflected by a rooftop or eradicated by air conditioning, the rain that was not repelled by anything more than my poncho, I was one with all of it. As I biked past, I moo'd as loud as I could at the cows in the fields and felt happy doing it. I even occasionally rode in the van when I was tired.
We all remember these grey gloomy days filled with a feeling of despair that saddens the heart from top to bottom. Even though, there may be joy in one’s heart, the atmosphere turns the soul cold and inert. Autumn is the nest of this particular type of days despite its hidden beauty. The sun seems foreign, and the nights are darker than usual enveloped by a thrill that generates chills to travel through the spine leaving you with a feeling of insecurity. Nevertheless, the thinnest of light will always shine through the deepest darkness; in fact, darkness amplifies the beauty and intensity of a sparkle. There I found myself trapped within the four walls of my house, all alone, surrounded by the viscosity of this type of day. I could hear some horrifying voices going through my mind led by unappealing suicidal thought. Boredom had me encaged, completely at its mercy. I needed to go far away, and escape from this morbid house which was wearing me down to the grave. Hope was purely what I was seeking in the middle of the city. Outside, the air was heavy. No beautifully rounded clouds, nor sunrays where available to be admired through the thick grey coat formed by the mist embedded in the streets. Though, I felt quite relieved to notice that I was not alone to feel that emptiness inside myself as I was trying to engage merchant who shown similar “symptoms” of my condition. The atmosphere definitely had a contagious effect spreading through the hearts of every pedestrian that day. Very quickly, what seemed to be comforting me at first, turned out to be deepening me in solitude. In the city park, walking ahead of me, I saw a little boy who had long hair attached with a black bandana.
Fortunately, I wake every morning to the most beautiful sun lit house. I sit on my porch sipping coffee, while I drink in an atmosphere that steals my breath away. Rolling hills lay before me that undulate until they crash into golden purple mountains. Oh how they are covered in spectacular fauna, ever blooming foliage, and trees that are heavy with pungent fruit. Green it is always so green here at my house. Here where the air lays heavy and cool on my skin as does the striking rays of the sun upon my cheeks. I know in my soul why I choose to be here every day. Pocketed in all the nooks and crannies of these valleys and hills are stately homes, rich with architecture resplendent. Diversity is the palate here; ...