Cleveland, Ohio was a death trap. There were many murders, robberies, and bad crimes. Then I saw the garden. People got along, and they all had something in common besides where they lived. I came to the garden the anniversary of the second year it started. It turned out that people in this city weren’t so bad after all. People were talking to other races, and that is very unusual. I decided I wanted to be apart of this garden. I wanted to plant pink roses. Before my mother passed away, I bought her the prettiest “get well soon” pink roses. She said that those were her favorite flowers, and they were beautiful just like me. She told me she loved them and that she loved me. I wanted to plant pink roses for her. I went out and bought pink rose seeds. The coincidence was it was Spring and that is the perfect season for roses. I was so happy I was able to plant these fantastic roses. I even got some pointers from other people in the garden. Now I have quite a few gardener buddies. I even have a motto for when new people help me. The motto is if you help me, I will help you back. …show more content…
A guy came up to me and exclaimed, “Hello, I’m Sam!” “Hi I’m Remi.
Nice to meet you,” I politely replied. “Here is a tip for your roses, only water them a half cup a day,” said Sam thoughtfully. “Thank you,” I said smiling. “My pleasure,” Sam said kindly. “Well I better get back to my garden. I will see you tomorrow.” I had just made another friend. It was the end of Spring and my roses had finally came up. People from the garden would come and admire them. Then a siren started going off. That siren was the tornado siren. All of us ran to the town’s tornado shelter. Everyone was terrified. “My tomatoes are going to be ruined!” Curtis cried. Curtis is also one of my garden buddies. “So are my mother’s beautiful roses,” I whispered as a tear slowly moved down my
cheek. “Everyone’s plants will be ok,” Sam insisted. “We will worry about that later, now everyone get prepared. The tornado is coming in soon and it is coming in hot.” The tornado finally came. Everyone covered their heads with a book and went under a desk. It was very chaotic. People screamed so loud I thought I was going deaf. I didn’t scream though, I couldn’t. All I could think about is my mom’s perfect pink roses. They were going to die just like she did. Thinking about this made me forget we were even in a tornado. The storm was over and I sprinted to the roses. All of them were gone except one. It stood straight up like nothing even happened to it. It had survived. My mom sent a message for me to not lose hope. She just gave me hope. I decided I was going to plant more roses. I looked around, people’s plants were destroyed and the gardeners had no hope. I decided I was going to help the other gardeners garden. The garden changed me, it gave me hope. That is something that I never had. It also gave me some amazing people that I can call my friends, another thing I had never had. It gave me pink roses. It gave my mother pink roses. It gave us pink roses.
There’s a lot that could be said to convince you that renting apartments in Oakland would be one of the best decisions of your life. Maybe you’d be interested in the fact that Oakland is a smart city; it’s one of the top cities when counting residents with bachelor’s degrees. Maybe you’d be intrigued by the fact that Oakland is known for its ethnic diversity, as well as its sustainability practices. Many more facts could be spewed at you, and they’d all add up to one thing—Oakland is an awesome, hip place to live.
It was decided, then, that planting a garden would be my summer project. My mother and I planned for it to be located behind our garage, in a sunny area of our otherwise shady backyard. With my mom's help, I planted an assortment of vegetables: tomatoes, onions, potatoes ('A potato is a tuber.' 'It's a what?'), and green beans.
I walked into the room on New Year’s Day and felt a sudden twinge of fear. My eyes already hurt from the tears I had shed and those tears would not stop even then the last viewing before we had to leave. She lay quietly on the bed with her face as void of emotion as a sheet of paper without the writing. Slowly, I approached the cold lifeless form that was once my mother and gave her a goodbye kiss.
Then to make a long story short we fell in love, love formed on the most powerful shared trauma. We both decided we couldn't stand to live here anymore. She agreed to give up her elaborate lifestyle for something more simpler and is taking up motherhood very nicely, I could use a little work on the other hand. We both live in maryland now. Our new house is a bit bigger that the one I had at East Egg, yet still smaller than the other houses around it, but it's ours. I'm writing again, as you can see by reading this. Were taking care of Daisy and Tom’s little girl. She's not a fool, she’ll never be a fool. I love my new life, it fits me, but i'll never forget my life in new york, i mean how could anyone forget that. I'll never forget. Daisy comes to me often asking me questions I dont have the answer to
Thunder rolled intensely outside, my aunt, mother, sister and I were sat calmly in the basement. We had been through this many times before; I mean afterall, Kansas was part of Tornado Alley. 2. My sister and I were young when this happened, her probably four or five, me about eight. 3. Before we had even started driving to my aunt’s house; since she’s the only one with a basement; my sister and I were complaining about being hungry. 4. Mom said she would get us something to eat soon, but then the sirens started blaring. 5. She called my aunt and told her we would be over in about ten minutes. 6. Me and my sister continued to complain about being hungry because, we always had to get what we wanted. 7. So my mom stopped at McDonald’s and got us some food. 8. After we were almost five minutes later than we said we would be my aunt panicked. 9. Jenny, my aunt, was calling like crazy. 10. When we finally got to her house she lectured my mom about how it wasn’t safe to have us out there like that with a tornado in the area. 11.Afterwards, we all sat on the porch and watched the storm. 12. That’s my favorite memory with my family, and it’s one I’ll never forget.
As I was sitting in my house getting a drink of water, I heard someone crying outside. As I went to look to see what was going on I saw a girl sitting in my flower patch with all the perfectly yellow blooms torn out of the ground. With every marigold that she tore out it was like a being stabbed in the heart for me. I knew that I would never plant them again since no one appreciated them except for me. I loved marigolds ever since my mother had first gotten them from a store. The color and the fresh scent had always seem to put me in a better mood than before. I just wanted everyone else to have that same feeling when I had planted them so they could be as happy as I was at that very moment when I had first laid my hands on them. When I watched Lizabeth rip the marigolds from the ground I didn’t know why I didn’t show any emotion at that moment, I was in shock. I guess all I wanted to do was add some color to this town and have it beautiful in the midst of ugliness and sterility. When I saw my flowers laying lifeless on the ground, I didn’t know what to do after that point, I was in shock, a deep sadness had seemed
as a tear ran down his face. "Yet I will never forget the family I so
Last year I put my expertise to practical use when I organized a 4-H community service project and volunteered in the Cummer Gardens in Jacksonville. In my community service project I taught two 4-H clubs how to plant and take care of potted pothos vines.
When we looked behind us we could see a very dark ominous shelf cloud heading towards us, but we ignored it because everyone else did not seem to ne worried. The panic only started when the cloud was right above us. The sirens began wailing and rain came gushing down on everybody like a waterfall. People started running for cover. Large bright lightening bolts illuminated the sky. A voice in the speakers said there was a tornado. My parents and I started running even faster towards our car. We eventually got in the car and started driving back to out hotel. We were sopping wet and chilled to the
Initially, William Blake’s “My Pretty Rose Tree” reads as uncomplicated verse, but in reality the poem operates on many levels. Close examination of Blake’s use of objects, familiar yet profoundly symbolic, thwarts expectations of light romance. Superficially the poem speaks of flowers, love, and jealousy but beneath the surface lurk deeper messages of rejection, resistance to change, and faith.
It was a cool and hazy summers night… all I remember is a hand sticking out the door and waving us off. As soon as I got set in the car the lights turned dimmed, and there was a jerk and we were off.
The vicissitude of weather came suddenly and unbeknownst to our small sleeping company. Thunder boomed. Lightning cracked and split the sky. Clouds formed overhead, rain began to fall, and the wind grew unpropitious. Clamoring voices pulled me from unconsciousness. Water pooled at the base of our tent, our rain fly and tarp doing little to protect us from the raging storm. Our counselor, Jane, ripped open the zippers of the neighboring tent and emerged. Her voice barely carried over the harsh drumming of the rain, coaxing us out of our saturated shelter where she explicated her
"Certain flowers can mean certain things. Red roses represent love and romance. White roses represent marriage and new beginnings. Yellow, friendship and joy." He answers.
Mamma! Are you crying, mamma? My dear, good, sweet mamma! Darling, I love you! I bless you! The Cherry orchard is sold; it?s gone; its quite true, it?s quite true. But don?t cry, mamma, you?ve still got life before you, you?ve still got your pure and lovely soul. Come with me, darling, and come away from here. We?ll plant a new garden, still lovelier than this. You will see it and understand, and happiness, deep, tranquil happiness will sink down on your soul, like the sun at eventide, and you?ll smile, mamma. Come, darling, come with me!
There was no lawn, but there were four flower planters. The house was painted all white, with the exception of the front door that was painted light green. My grandfather was still young, strong, and full of life, he always had time to play with his grandchildren. Every Sunday he would take us to the park, would buy us ice cream, and take us to Sunday mass. On the day when this picture was taken, we were celebrating my 10th birthday, and I was dancing with my grandfather. I cannot remember the song, but I do remember what he told me while dancing slowly. He said “My little girl” how he used to call me,” in five years you won’t be a little girl, you will become a young lady.” At that moment I could not understand what he meant, but in my mind I was saying “grandpa I will always be your little girl.” While dancing, he made me a promise, “My little girl on your 15th birthday, I will dance the first song with you.” Who would know that he was going to die on my 15th birthday year, he passed away on June 21th, 1987 on Father’s Day. He left me with so many beautiful memories, but the most important was my first dance on my 10th birthday. On the night before my 15th birthday, I went to bed around 10 p.m. I was feeling depressed, because I was only thinking of the promise that my grandfather had made in the past. A promise that in my mind was not going to