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Paragrahp on christmas traditions
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On a cold Christmas Eve night, I slipped on my comfortable black and pink winter coat, and my black winter boots over my pink pajamas. My mother, sister, and I went out to the snow-covered front lawn, with a bucket of glitter in hand. As soon as we opened the front wooden door, I was swallowed by a sea of cold air, biting at all of my exposed skin. I shivered as the cold air started to fight its way through my jacket and pajamas, freezing my skin, and I took the bucket in my black mitten. Inside the bucket, was shining purple glitter. I stared at the glitter, mesmerized by the the sparkling substance.
I took a handful of the glitter, and spread it out on the white snow. My sister and I each took turns spreading the glitter. We laughed and smiled as we saw the glitter falling around us, and seeing it cover the snow beneath us. I was consumed with joy, as I saw the christmas lights that lit up our front yard, and I could see our big christmas tree, decorated with lights and ornaments, watching us from the window. When we reached the bottom of the bucket, I realized it was time to go back inside.
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Once my sister and I had taken off our jackets, boots, and mittens, we sat in front of the fire place, with a mug of warm hot chocolate, dotted with marshmallows.
We were so happy from putting the glitter on the front lawn, because it let Santa and his reindeers know to stop at our house that night, so that he wouldn’t accidentally miss it. I bolted up,almost forgetting about the carrots. I ran to my mom to remind her to put carrots out on the back deck for the reindeers to snack on while Santa was putting the presents underneath the Christmas tree. My mom smiled, amused by my excitement, as she pulled out carrots, cut them up, and gave a handful to both my sister and I. We ran to the back door, and tossed them on the deck, satisfied by the fact that the reindeers wouldn’t go hungry that
night. Our mother came, and called us into the living room to watch a Christmas movie as a family. We all snuggled up on couches and chair, filled with the Christmas spirit. After the movie, I said goodnight to my parents, and walk past the glowing Christmas tree, knowing that by tomorrow morning, there will be presents for everyone taking up the space at the bottom. I then looked at the stockings on the mantle, each one with our names on it, and again think about how they will be filled with small presents by tomorrow morning. From my room, I could see the glitter on the front lawn, and smiled as I crawled into bed. My parents came in, each tucking me in and kissing me goodnight. I closed my eyes, thinking about how tomorrow will be filled with joy and cheer as we open the presents together. This is dedicated to my mom, dad, and sister, Caitlin. I hope this had the same effect it did on me and reminds ourselves what Christmas is all about, and what it means to be a family. Thank you for being there for me every year, I love you.
Mary Oliver uses the vivid descriptions to show how she saw the first snow. Oliver accounts for every scene of the beauty she encountered. In this poem, she shares many different images, all which have very intense and powerful meanings. She used words such as smolder, glitter, and shining to show an intense way to describe snow. For example “the broad fields/ smolder with light” (Oliver 645, 24-25), which means the fields glisten mildly. Also “Trees/ glitter li...
I stepped into the middle of the road and just stood there, the lights stretching in either direction, glowing in the deep chilly air. I could see my own breath, could feel my own warmth as it formed right there in front of me. Behind me, our house looked dark, faint lingering of I'd walk a million miles, and I wasn't even sure if it was really playing or if I was imagining the familiar, the same way a bright light remain when you close your eyelids, the way I imagine that the sight of an eclipse would burn its image into your eyes forever(pg.
The boy in the striped pajamas The boy in the striped pajamas is a tale of the Nazi and the Jewish. There is a family of two kids and a husband and wife; they all lived in the Nazi Germany. The father was a soldier, the boy was named Bruno and was nine years old. At the beginning of the movie the father got promoted to a new position and he will be making decisions for the soldiers, because the father was getting promoted to a higher position the family had to move away from their lovely home in Berlin to a new house in an unfamiliar place called “out with”. When the family arrived at their new home, the boy noticed that there was nothing around their new house, and he was devastated because he had left his friends behind.
I stepped out of the chilly November air and into the warmth of my home. The first snowfall of the year had hit early in the morning, and the soft, powdery snow provided entertainment for hours. As I laid my furry mittens and warm hat on the bench to dry, I was immediately greeted with the rich scent of sweet apple pie, pumpkin pie, mashed potatoes, and the twenty-pound turkey my mother was preparing for our Thanksgiving feast.
Many young children went to the local fair ground. The wagons, horses, tall trees and the sunshine… How magnificent! It was truly a magical day. We wandered about listening to the speeches, as it slowly began to get darker, and darker. All the small children began the grow drowsy, so their parents went back home. My favourite part of the entire day was the fireworks of course! As darkness took over the sky, the wonderful display began, lighting up the sky with it’s beautiful colours. Soon it was sadly
The freezing wind had chilled my hand to the bone. Even as I walked into my cabin, I shivered as if there was an invisible man shaking me. My ears, fingers, toes, and noes had turned into a pale purple, only starting to change color once I had made a fire and bundled myself in blankets like ancient Egyptians would do to their deceased Pharaohs. The once powdered snow on my head had solidified into a thin layer of ice. I changed out of the soaking wet clothes I was wearing and put on new dry ones. With each layer I became more excited to go out and start snowboarding. I headed for the lift with my board and my hand. Each step was a struggle with the thick suit of snow gear I was armored in.
My mind was boggled, I didn’t know why my parents insisted on taking me to such strange places. But this one was okay. When we walked in the door I spotted a bright mysterious little tree. I was four of course so I thought that this place was a dreamland. So while my parents were dragging me around this winter wonderland I spot this ornament on the same little tree and it had three little ducks on it and the bottom of those ducks were bells. So being me I took it off the tree and started to shake it around. Of course, it amused me so while my parents were shopping I was carrying around this bright yellow jingling ducky ornament. I may have liked this
The Boy in the Striped Pajamas Opinion Essay “Those who kept silent yesterday will remain silent tomorrow” -Elie Wiesel. The Holocaust is a very common topic to read and to be taught about, especially in the form of fictional books. It is usually taught to make people remember what really happened in the past so that history doesn’t repeat itself.
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.
The Holocaust fable The Boy in the Striped Pajamas by John Boyne is a popular novel often read by young children all around the world. Published in over 50 languages and over 7 million copies sold, it can be assumed that the young readers enjoy it (Jeffers). What they may or may not know is The Boy in the Striped Pajamas is about more than a nine year old separated by a fence from his friend. Boyne included many hints that it is really about the Holocaust, which isn’t hard to figure out. Unfortunately, he wrote in such a style that hides that fact from us, resulting in readers having to make inferences.
I pulled into the driveway of my house and parked my car. I grabbed my coat and bag and opened the door. When I got out I instantly began to smell the sweet aroma of the long rose bushes making their way out of our fence and into the world of our driveway. I was so captivated by the fall breeze, and the beautiful smell of fall in the air that I didn't even know that I was to the door. As I snapped back into reality, I looked up and I was standing at my doorway.
The Boy in Striped Pajamas is an expertly crafted film that eloquently depicts the heart-wrenching reality of the Jewish Holocaust. The movie contains an abundant scattering of thoughtfully constructed themes and symbols; however, the most prominent themes are arguably those of fear, lies, and regret. Fear is an insurmountable, unavoidable being that manifests itself in the characters of the film at staggered times, with evidence appearing in the form of both actions and words. The concept of lying acts as a foundational bedrock, forming direct conflict between the characters and leading many others to ignorance surrounding the brutality of the Holocaust. Lastly, regret fulfills a critical niche in demonstrating the concerning qualms the characters
captive by a sheath of frost, as were the glacial branches that scraped at my windows, begging to get in. It is indeed the coldest year I can remember, with winds like barbs that caught and pulled at my skin. People ceaselessly searched for warmth, but my family found that this year, the warmth was searching for us.
The cold night embraces us in a shivering blanket. Goosebumps prickle on our freezing body. Black consumes our pale color that once was on our skin. Our invisible breath fogs the dark in a memoire that it is cold. We trace our hands and famished engulfs them with the remaining warmth we have left. Sometimes we are reminded that we have color by the light
My most memorable Christmas is one from my past. I was about six years old. I clearly remember sitting in class on the last day of school before Christmas vacation anticipating the bell to ring and signify that the classes were finally over. As the bell rang, I ran out of that class, and once I got home I was ready in an instant to leave for my grandmother’s where I would spend my holidays. It was a two hour drive to my grandmother’s house. I was very impatient throughout the entire drive. I couldn’t wait to see my grandma, my cousin, and my aunts. To make things better, however, snow started to fall filling me with hopes of a snowball fight the next day.