The Grand Magical River The night was frozen in a deep silence, but I could still hear the whisper of the distant whoosh of the river getting closer and closer every step we would take into our new lives. I could see the excitement of my little brother and my sister on their faces; their dark chocolate eyes were as big and bright as the moon. The woman next to me held my hand tightly; I could feel the calluses of her hands from all those years of hard work in the fields harvesting the corn, which every morning she would turn in yummy tortillas! I knew she was tired, I could see it through that shiny armor of toughness she would wear every day. “Don’t let go my hand mijos,” she said with a sparkle of a star in her eyes. My sister, my little …show more content…
Ok,” with a determined looked on her face. It had been eight years without seeing our dad, we were all excited and in a hurry to cross the Grand Magical River and see our dad again. Mom pulls her back too, and says to her “no mija, no one is going first until the gentlemen say it’s ok to cross.” The river might have looked like a baby sleeping: calm and peaceful, but under those crystal waters a beast was running like a cheetah, smoothly and fast. We turned to look at the two men who were helping us and guiding us through the journey to get to the “Land Of Freedom.” As they were giving us instructions to not let go off of them, because we would disappeared like a needle in a haystack: they started taking their pants off and putting them in plastic bags. The younger looking man decided to go first along with my two siblings, and once again he repeated to my siblings “do not let go off of me, please.” They grabbed onto him like baby monkeys hanging from a tree branch. Then my mom and I turned to the older man waiting for instructions, which he didn’t say anything to us, he only looked straight at us expecting us to know what to do. Without saying a word we grabbed onto him like monkeys too. As we stepped into the river, I felt like a ballerina floating in the clouds: tippy toeing trying to reach the bottom of the river. I remember the water being so warm, I don’t know if it was just me or it was the adrenaline rushing through my veins, the excitement to see my dad again. When we reached the other side of the crystal waters, Mother with tears like the river we had just crossed coming from her eyes, hugged us tightly and whispered to us softly “we did it, just a little more so we can be all together with papa.” We immediately started walking and the whoosh of that river now kept getting farther and farther behind, just like the memories of our lives in
Author and historian, Carol Sheriff, completed the award winning book The Artificial River, which chronicles the construction of the Erie Canal from 1817 to 1862, in 1996. In this book, Sheriff writes in a manner that makes the events, changes, and feelings surrounding the Erie Canal’s construction accessible to the general public. Terms she uses within the work are fully explained, and much of her content is first hand information gathered from ordinary people who lived near the Canal. This book covers a range of issues including reform, religious and workers’ rights, the environment, and the market revolution. Sheriff’s primary aim in this piece is to illustrate how the construction of the Erie Canal affected the peoples’ views on these issues.
When I started to reading this book, I do not imagine what it was about .I am an international student, and I have been living in the U.S for a short time , so many of the issues regarding of American history are new for me. The Erie Canal was part of the unknown subjects. It has been interesting to know, and learned that the Americans have had intension of shaping and preserve its history. And great historians, they would give out even the smallest details that helped make this nation what it is today.
Follow The River by James Alexander Thom is about Mary Ingles gruesome but yet courageous tale of her remarkable 1,000 mile journey home after she had escaped form the captivity of the Shawnee Indians. Through Mary Ingles hard work and determination she proved that all obstacles big and small can be overcome.
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...
The gentle early morning breeze blew across their faces like the whispering winds sway the trees. They had been walking all night long, and finally made it across the border. My mother’s hair was ruffled up, her nose had a steady trickle of blood running into her open mouth. She grunted softly as she lifted her hand up. Tears streamed down her eyes. She knew she had finally made it to her destination.
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.
Today we hit a long and rushing river, that I overheard was called Laromy river. The first few steps were simple, then the current started to push. I had made it to the other side of the river, when I heard a scream, and I saw one of the guiders being swept down the stream. In an instant they were gone. The dripping survivors and I were welcomed with a group of soldiers with towels. The soldiers lead us to buildings where we could sleep the night. That night I was feed the soft bedding hay, and they gave me clean good tasting
It was a dark cold night in December. Opening the door to their house, the den sat quiet as usual, but something else was different. Walking to the living room, I did not hear a voice that always greeted me with joy. There was no room for joy, or laughter anymore. When I sat down, my Pa Pa’s bed sat across from me. I could see the bones through his skin, the bagginess of his white t-shirt, and the sadness that rest in his eyes. On his lips, a smile no longer lived. “Hi Pa Pa”, I say as I walked over to k...
The novel River God by Wilbur Smith is set in Ancient Egypt, during a time when the kingdoms were beginning to collapse and the Upper and Lower Egypt were separated between two rulers. The story is in the view-point of Taita, a highly multi-talented eunuch slave. At the beginning of the story, Taita belongs to Lord Intef and helps manage his estate along with caring for his beautiful daughter, Lostris. She is in love with Tanus, a fine solider and also Taita’s friend. Unfortunately, Lord Intef despises Tanus’s father, Lord Harrab, and Intef was actually the one who the cause of the fall of Harrab’s estate, unknowingly to Lostris and Tanus. Taita’s goal is to bring back Egypt to its former glory, but with so many bandits and invaders it would be a difficult task.
The small legs that whisked back and forth in the open space of the vehicle were full of energy. The young girl spent the day with the two people she admired the most. A bigger version of herself sat in the passenger seat with her husband driving next to her. They laughed over conversation. Every so often, the girl would stick thin fingers against her mother’s shoulder to receive her attention. She would say something trivial and obvious, but her mother would still entertain her. She absorbed every phrase her daughter said as if each filled her with a tremendous joy and was the greatest thing ever spoken. Her mother had selected a black dress for her today with a large white ribbon tied around her midsection. Her hair had been combed back in two braids so that the tips were touching her shoulder blades. They were coming home late from a Christmas party at church.
Sad that we were forgotten, we were barely hungry anymore. When the kids went up for food, we stayed behind. From across the hall, I could see our relatives having a great time gathering their food. Then, something was blocking my view. When I looked up at the face of the figure, I realized it was my Dad coming this way! Quickly, I looked over to Sam who saw the same thing I did. We waited while he slowly made his way down the hallway. By the time he made it, he knew we saw him. Just before the door frame, he stopped and waved for us to come towards him. On our hurried way out of the room, I glanced over at Maddie. She saw us leave and didn’t seem to care all that much. Although Maddie likes our older cousins, she has much more fun with the younger ones. For some reason kids love Maddie. Instead of caring about what Sam and I were up to, she turned her attention to the children whom loved her attention. When Sam and I arrived at our father, he waited to speak so we could catch our breath. “You guys want to sit with your cousins right?” Without hesitation, we nodded in agreement. “Well I guess you can…” Before he could finish, we sped up the hallway.
I stood at the end of the driveway with a bag of clothes and my little sisters by my side. My dad pulled up, we got in the truck, and we drove about 10 minutes until we got to his shop. This would seem like a normal day, but things were different this time. We weren 't at the shop to ride the four wheelers around or to play basketball in the garage or to mess with the pinball machines. There was a gloomy feel about everything around us. Even though I didn’t say anything, I knew things were changing.
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.
I am jarred out of a relaxing sleep by a voice yelling my name in a loud whisper, and a light burning through my eyelids. Groggily, I open my eyes to see my father standing in the doorway to my messy room. He tells me that I need to get going, that it is 3:00 a.m., and I'm burning daylight. I find my clothes and get dressed. The whole time I wonder why I get up this early to visit the rugged outdoors. I want to go back to bed, but I know my dad will be back in to make sure I am getting ready, in a little bit. Instead, I put my boots and my wide-brimmed, black cowboy hat on, and walked out to catch the horses. The horses are all excited because it is dark and they are not that cooperative. My dad and I get them saddled and in the trailer, and go back into the house to get our lunch, water, and a cup of coffee. Now, we can head for the high country.
The dark, black sky was covered with a million bright shining stars. The moon shimmered above a small town in the suburbs of London. The gentle wind swept past the bare trees and danced with the leaves below it, creating a colourful array of orange, yellow, red and brown. Across the street, a light was on in a small house where a tall, dark haired woman stood, talking to her two children Nicola and Erin. While she was tucking them in Erin asked, “Mummy, will you tell us a story please?” “I’m sorry but its time to go to sleep now,” she said. “Please mummy,” begged Nicola “Okay but only one story,” she replied “This story is about how I got lost when I was a young girl and how I met an incredible man. It all began when…”