My father's parents divorced when he was very young. He was their only child, so when his mother remarried, my father was adopted by his stepfather, Jim.
Growing up, Jim ws my grandfather. I knew nothing else. I lived with my Nana and Pop-Pop on the days I was supposed to visit my dad. From the time I was 3 years old, the memories created with them took the place of any recollection I have of my dad. Jim owned the chain of Little Caesar's pizza shops. Each night when he came home from work, I went through his briefcase and found the receipt rolls. I took one end of the tightly wrapped, white bundle of fun and ran in the opposite direction of where I had left the roll on the floor. When I got to the wall on the other side of the room, I would look around, making sure nobody was around to catch me. Then I would spin and jump and throw the paper in the air. I stomped on it, tore it, spat on it, anything to hear myself giggle. At that point, life was perfect; I was alone for the most part, but that was the way I liked it.
As time went on, my grandparent's marriage began to fall apart. Jim divorced Nana and I was left, without a goodbye, to figure that out on my own. This separation brought my father back into my life. I was nine years old, still very alone, and like every little girl, needed a daddy. My father would visit Nana and I would stand in the kitchen, peeking around the wall into the living room, just staring at him. I wondered why he didn't want to talk to me, or hug me, or take me to his house. Hours would pass, but I would never get tired of listening to his voice. I imagined him asking me if I wanted to go out for ice cream with him. I longed for him to construct a caring sentence for me. My heart needed to hear words of compassion. I waited. I watched him tell Nana goodbye. I watched him walk away, close the door, pull his shiny, green pickup truck out of the driveway. Then I ran to the door and waited for his next visit. Alone, but hopeful.
30 May 2009
27 May 2009
A short time ago, in a far away land called Sermantenia, there was a sixteen-year-old boy named Joe. This boy lived in the land all his life, and he never saw anybody like him. This boy was very smart, had red-ish hair, green eyes, and was tall and slender. He wore leaves as clothes. Joe always hunted for food and other people like him. He did not want to eat the people, he just wanted to see if there was anybody else like him.
One day, Joe was walking in the land and having a good time. He was running with his friends, which were all animals, because those were all the friends he had. Well, one day his “friends,” the bear, told him that people like him have found the land. Joe was so excited when the bear told him that. He is finally able to meet people just like him. Joe was also scared. He thought, “What if they are mean? What if they are just another creature?” As the men were searching the land, Joe was looking for them. There were many things going though his mind. “What are these people going to be like? What will they do to me? How will they speak? Will they understand me?” he wondered. All these questions were going though his head. While he was running and thinking with his eyes closed, he ran into the people that looked just like him. They were tall and strong. They had sharp claws that they called knives and balloons that popped that make very loud noises called guns. As he was eyeing them, they said “What are you looking at, small one?” Joe did not know what to say. The men picked him up and said again, “What are you looking at?” Joe stuttered and said, “N-n- nothing. I’m ju-just amazed to see people l-l-like me.” The men smiled and laughed, they and said, “Are you serious… you never saw anybody like you before?” Joe answered by saying, “No, sir.” The men looked confused and replied, “Well, umm, what is your name, young one?” “My name is Joe,” he answered. The other man replied, Nice name, mine’s Bookman John Bookman. How did you get here?” Joe was about to answer, then said, “I have know idea.” John was shocked. “You don’t know?! How could you not know- everyone knows where they come from!” Joe said, “Well, I don’t!” “Ugh, this is quite mad, my boy!”
The talking and yelling at each other went on and on. Then, suddenly, the bear, Joe’s friend, came and scared off John and the other men. Joe asked, “Bear, why did you do that?” Bear answered, “Because I was tired of the yelling and I could not sleep!” Joe and Bear both laughed together. Then, suddenly, Joe heard someone called his name about three or four times. It was Joe’s mom, Carmen. Then Joe woke up. Carmen yelled, “Joe, get up! You have to get up for school!” Joe thought the whole thing was real, but it ended up just a dream.
The End
One day, Joe was walking in the land and having a good time. He was running with his friends, which were all animals, because those were all the friends he had. Well, one day his “friends,” the bear, told him that people like him have found the land. Joe was so excited when the bear told him that. He is finally able to meet people just like him. Joe was also scared. He thought, “What if they are mean? What if they are just another creature?” As the men were searching the land, Joe was looking for them. There were many things going though his mind. “What are these people going to be like? What will they do to me? How will they speak? Will they understand me?” he wondered. All these questions were going though his head. While he was running and thinking with his eyes closed, he ran into the people that looked just like him. They were tall and strong. They had sharp claws that they called knives and balloons that popped that make very loud noises called guns. As he was eyeing them, they said “What are you looking at, small one?” Joe did not know what to say. The men picked him up and said again, “What are you looking at?” Joe stuttered and said, “N-n- nothing. I’m ju-just amazed to see people l-l-like me.” The men smiled and laughed, they and said, “Are you serious… you never saw anybody like you before?” Joe answered by saying, “No, sir.” The men looked confused and replied, “Well, umm, what is your name, young one?” “My name is Joe,” he answered. The other man replied, Nice name, mine’s Bookman John Bookman. How did you get here?” Joe was about to answer, then said, “I have know idea.” John was shocked. “You don’t know?! How could you not know- everyone knows where they come from!” Joe said, “Well, I don’t!” “Ugh, this is quite mad, my boy!”
The talking and yelling at each other went on and on. Then, suddenly, the bear, Joe’s friend, came and scared off John and the other men. Joe asked, “Bear, why did you do that?” Bear answered, “Because I was tired of the yelling and I could not sleep!” Joe and Bear both laughed together. Then, suddenly, Joe heard someone called his name about three or four times. It was Joe’s mom, Carmen. Then Joe woke up. Carmen yelled, “Joe, get up! You have to get up for school!” Joe thought the whole thing was real, but it ended up just a dream.
The End
26 May 2009
July 23, 2008
July 23, 2008. Not really a typical day in the life of Sam but not necessarily exciting. I was at the hospital with my aunt who had just had a surgery. And, of course, I was bored to death. Then, my other aunt (Timmy’s mom) told me that Tim and his brother were going to a VBS that night and asked me if I wanted to go. Yeah, I know…VBS. But it was for all ages so I went. And to this day, my life is being affected by that night.
The VBS was at El Shaddai Assembly of God. There is a branch of El Shaddai in Bethlehem called Epic Church (awesome name, right?). That is where Tim and his brother go to church and most of the people that go there were at the VBS. So that was the first important event that day: meeting all the Epic people. (Fun fact: one of them was in the car with us when I was picked up and nobody introduced us until we got there.)
My musical taste was also affected that week. Every day on the way to VBS, Andrew, Tim’s brother, was blasting Family Force 5 in the car. I hadn’t liked them before but I actually listened to them and now they’re one of my favorite bands. (As a matter of fact, I’m listening to them as I type this.) Also, at the VBS, Timmy told me about Andrew’s new band: Onset of Demise. Ok, so if you don’t know me: I hated screamo until I heard Onset of Demise. The first time I heard them was at a coffeehouse that took place at El Shaddai. There were two different coffeehouses that they played at, and at the second one, I met Chelsae Cianciatto.
This brings me to the most current effect of that day. Chelsae is one of the youth leaders at Epic Church. Epic had competed in a Fine Arts Festival with something called a human video the year before. The topic came up and Chelsae invited me to be in their human video. The next week I was at epic church for the first human video practice. Since Timmy had told me about human videos before, my obsession did not start then. But it did continue. Epic went to Fine Arts with two large human videos and one solo (me). Both human videos I was in were two points away from advancing to districts. But, that doesn’t mean it’s all over. In two weeks Epic is having a block party and we’re performing there, and this Friday I will be performing my solo human video in the freshman class talent show.
So now that I’ve bored you to death with how my life was changed by an invitation to VBS, you can go on with your lives. =D
The VBS was at El Shaddai Assembly of God. There is a branch of El Shaddai in Bethlehem called Epic Church (awesome name, right?). That is where Tim and his brother go to church and most of the people that go there were at the VBS. So that was the first important event that day: meeting all the Epic people. (Fun fact: one of them was in the car with us when I was picked up and nobody introduced us until we got there.)
My musical taste was also affected that week. Every day on the way to VBS, Andrew, Tim’s brother, was blasting Family Force 5 in the car. I hadn’t liked them before but I actually listened to them and now they’re one of my favorite bands. (As a matter of fact, I’m listening to them as I type this.) Also, at the VBS, Timmy told me about Andrew’s new band: Onset of Demise. Ok, so if you don’t know me: I hated screamo until I heard Onset of Demise. The first time I heard them was at a coffeehouse that took place at El Shaddai. There were two different coffeehouses that they played at, and at the second one, I met Chelsae Cianciatto.
This brings me to the most current effect of that day. Chelsae is one of the youth leaders at Epic Church. Epic had competed in a Fine Arts Festival with something called a human video the year before. The topic came up and Chelsae invited me to be in their human video. The next week I was at epic church for the first human video practice. Since Timmy had told me about human videos before, my obsession did not start then. But it did continue. Epic went to Fine Arts with two large human videos and one solo (me). Both human videos I was in were two points away from advancing to districts. But, that doesn’t mean it’s all over. In two weeks Epic is having a block party and we’re performing there, and this Friday I will be performing my solo human video in the freshman class talent show.
So now that I’ve bored you to death with how my life was changed by an invitation to VBS, you can go on with your lives. =D
Fallen
This is my short story. I own all the characters as well as the ideas in the story. This is a small portion of possibly one chapter in the book. it may not fit the requirments for a short story but it fits mine. I am still going to keep adding on to this as i write more and have more time to update the entry.
"Skye, are you comming over tonight?" my best friend Anne asked.
"Nope" I replied as I slammed my locker shut.
"Jeez, take a chill pill, Skye. What did your locker ever do to you? Why can't you come over?" Anne stated sarcastically.
"Anne, my locker didn't do anything, its just I'm upset. I want to come to your house but jerkface (stepfather) won't let me. He wants me home when he gets home tonight. I have no idea why but I have no choice. You know how angry he can get. I guess I'll see you tomorrow at work."
"Alrighty then, see you later." Anne said as she hugged me tight. I tried not to wince noticably as she inadvertantly put pressure on the tender skin on my shoulders.
"Bye! Love ya!" I told her as I slowly disentangled myself from her as I walked toward the front door of the school.
Once outside, I scoured the busy street for my ride home, but once again Bernie(my limo driver) was late. I deciced to walk home, it was only a few city blocks away and it was a beautiful day. As I passed Smitty's Cafe, I felt a dark presence arround me. I quickened my pace because I felt like I was no longer alone. I felt watched. I was about to step off the curb to cross the street when I heard someone shout my name. Automatically I spun around to see who had called me. No one was there but a few homeless people whom I doubted knew my name. I turned back arround in time to see a taxi cab run a red light and almost hit me where i was standing on the curb. I shivered and got the chills, just thinking about what could have happened had I been in the street. I don't know who or what called my name but I am so glad it happened. I quickly crossed the street and hurried home. I flung open the front door, went inside, and slammed it shut. I locked the last lock. Wow! That was strange. It was nothing but my overactive imagination, just relax, Skyler.
I silently entered the foyer, walked up the grand staircase and walked swiftly down the hall to my bedroom. My room was my santuary until Jerkface ruined it for me. I threw my book bag down on my bed and changed out of my stuffy, private school uniform into comfy clothes. when I was finally satified with my clothes I was waring a white cami, black hoodie and my favorite pair of black sweat pants. I carefully laid down on my bed not to jar my sholders and back. I rolled onto my right side and looked out my window, the sky was a mixture of cool hues of blues and purples, the street was busy with the hustle and bustle fo NYC was quieter than normal. I zoned out thinking about my life since Jerkface had gotten his claws into my mom. I have no idea why mom married Alex (jerkface) What on earth was my mom thinking? Sure Alex is rich but so what? Being rich doesn't mean anything. Ever since they muttered "I do? my life has changed and not for the better. I hate him and anything to do with him. He's such a perv. I hate spending any time with him alone with him. Alex charms others but not me and it bothers him so much. I guess because I don't worship him, Alex thinks he will break me of that by beating me up. He's only hit me twice but i'm starting to get scared. I know what he is doing is wrong but who do i tell? who would believe me? My mom...heck no; in her eyes he can do no wrong. Ugh! I don't know how much more I can take before I snap. One day when he hits me I'm going to fight back and one of us isn't going to make it......
Ring, Ring Ring, Riiinnnng, Riiiiiinnnnnnng! My phone went off. It was Alex, his text said: Have dinner ready for me when i get home.
I didn't respond to his text because it was pointless. I checked what time it was and jumped out of bed. It was 5:45pm and Alex would be home in 15 minutes. What do i do??? I ran down to the kitchen. I scrambled around the kitchen searching for stuff to make. I finnaly settled on making eggs, sausage and toast because it was fastest to make and those where the only food i could find. I had just finished placing everything on the dinning room table when Alex burst through the front door.
Once he saw what I had made, he started to flip out. "You dumb kid, I told you to make dinner not breakfast." he grabbed the bowl of eggs and puts it close enough to my face to feel the heat eminating from the bowl and states "Eggs are not dinner.'' Alex then proceded to through the bown across the room. he stormed out seconds later, telling me to clean up the mess.
"Fine whatever you say jerkface." I muttered under my breath.
"what did you just call me?" Alex asked menicilying.
"Alex I called you by your true name. Has no one ever called you it before? I guess not Jerkface." I have no idea where this courage came from. I knew i was in trouble and it wasn't going to be fun.
As the meaning of my words sunk into Alex's peabrain his face was a whirlwind of emotion. He did not say a word but the look on his face said it all; his whole face was contorted in rage. I tried to take run out of the kitchen but Alex caught me and pushed me back into the kitchen. He then proceeded to throw me across the kitchen. I hit the far wall so hard that I left a dent and I slid down to the floor.
"You ungreatful little witch. After everything I've done for you this is how you repay me? I don't think so. You are going to pay me the respect I deserve even if it kills you." he wispered.
"Skye, are you comming over tonight?" my best friend Anne asked.
"Nope" I replied as I slammed my locker shut.
"Jeez, take a chill pill, Skye. What did your locker ever do to you? Why can't you come over?" Anne stated sarcastically.
"Anne, my locker didn't do anything, its just I'm upset. I want to come to your house but jerkface (stepfather) won't let me. He wants me home when he gets home tonight. I have no idea why but I have no choice. You know how angry he can get. I guess I'll see you tomorrow at work."
"Alrighty then, see you later." Anne said as she hugged me tight. I tried not to wince noticably as she inadvertantly put pressure on the tender skin on my shoulders.
"Bye! Love ya!" I told her as I slowly disentangled myself from her as I walked toward the front door of the school.
Once outside, I scoured the busy street for my ride home, but once again Bernie(my limo driver) was late. I deciced to walk home, it was only a few city blocks away and it was a beautiful day. As I passed Smitty's Cafe, I felt a dark presence arround me. I quickened my pace because I felt like I was no longer alone. I felt watched. I was about to step off the curb to cross the street when I heard someone shout my name. Automatically I spun around to see who had called me. No one was there but a few homeless people whom I doubted knew my name. I turned back arround in time to see a taxi cab run a red light and almost hit me where i was standing on the curb. I shivered and got the chills, just thinking about what could have happened had I been in the street. I don't know who or what called my name but I am so glad it happened. I quickly crossed the street and hurried home. I flung open the front door, went inside, and slammed it shut. I locked the last lock. Wow! That was strange. It was nothing but my overactive imagination, just relax, Skyler.
I silently entered the foyer, walked up the grand staircase and walked swiftly down the hall to my bedroom. My room was my santuary until Jerkface ruined it for me. I threw my book bag down on my bed and changed out of my stuffy, private school uniform into comfy clothes. when I was finally satified with my clothes I was waring a white cami, black hoodie and my favorite pair of black sweat pants. I carefully laid down on my bed not to jar my sholders and back. I rolled onto my right side and looked out my window, the sky was a mixture of cool hues of blues and purples, the street was busy with the hustle and bustle fo NYC was quieter than normal. I zoned out thinking about my life since Jerkface had gotten his claws into my mom. I have no idea why mom married Alex (jerkface) What on earth was my mom thinking? Sure Alex is rich but so what? Being rich doesn't mean anything. Ever since they muttered "I do? my life has changed and not for the better. I hate him and anything to do with him. He's such a perv. I hate spending any time with him alone with him. Alex charms others but not me and it bothers him so much. I guess because I don't worship him, Alex thinks he will break me of that by beating me up. He's only hit me twice but i'm starting to get scared. I know what he is doing is wrong but who do i tell? who would believe me? My mom...heck no; in her eyes he can do no wrong. Ugh! I don't know how much more I can take before I snap. One day when he hits me I'm going to fight back and one of us isn't going to make it......
Ring, Ring Ring, Riiinnnng, Riiiiiinnnnnnng! My phone went off. It was Alex, his text said: Have dinner ready for me when i get home.
I didn't respond to his text because it was pointless. I checked what time it was and jumped out of bed. It was 5:45pm and Alex would be home in 15 minutes. What do i do??? I ran down to the kitchen. I scrambled around the kitchen searching for stuff to make. I finnaly settled on making eggs, sausage and toast because it was fastest to make and those where the only food i could find. I had just finished placing everything on the dinning room table when Alex burst through the front door.
Once he saw what I had made, he started to flip out. "You dumb kid, I told you to make dinner not breakfast." he grabbed the bowl of eggs and puts it close enough to my face to feel the heat eminating from the bowl and states "Eggs are not dinner.'' Alex then proceded to through the bown across the room. he stormed out seconds later, telling me to clean up the mess.
"Fine whatever you say jerkface." I muttered under my breath.
"what did you just call me?" Alex asked menicilying.
"Alex I called you by your true name. Has no one ever called you it before? I guess not Jerkface." I have no idea where this courage came from. I knew i was in trouble and it wasn't going to be fun.
As the meaning of my words sunk into Alex's peabrain his face was a whirlwind of emotion. He did not say a word but the look on his face said it all; his whole face was contorted in rage. I tried to take run out of the kitchen but Alex caught me and pushed me back into the kitchen. He then proceeded to throw me across the kitchen. I hit the far wall so hard that I left a dent and I slid down to the floor.
"You ungreatful little witch. After everything I've done for you this is how you repay me? I don't think so. You are going to pay me the respect I deserve even if it kills you." he wispered.
Out of the Silent Planet
Hey, sorry this is soooo late. And it's really short. But at least it's finally up here.
Most of us have gotten to know C.S. Lewis’ literature: both fiction and nonfiction. (Anyone who knows me knows I’ve really gotten to know some of his stuff.) One of Lewis’ interesting fiction series is his space trilogy. In the first book, Out of the Silent Planet, we are introduced to Ransom, who will lead us beyond our own planet to the land of Malacandra, which is known to us as Mars. Ransom had been kidnapped by two men: Weston and Devine. They took him to the planet Malacandra to appease the mysterious Sorns. When he runs away though, he meets a Hross, one of the three races of Malacandra. He later meets the Pfifltriggi and finally the Sorns. He discovers that the Sorns are not his enemies despite their huge, fearsome appearance. I think this is a good connection to our society because so often people are judged for their appearances. But sometimes, the ones that don’t fit in are kinder than the people you thought were like you. Although, in my opinion, this isn’t Lewis’ best work, I still have to say it was pretty good.
Most of us have gotten to know C.S. Lewis’ literature: both fiction and nonfiction. (Anyone who knows me knows I’ve really gotten to know some of his stuff.) One of Lewis’ interesting fiction series is his space trilogy. In the first book, Out of the Silent Planet, we are introduced to Ransom, who will lead us beyond our own planet to the land of Malacandra, which is known to us as Mars. Ransom had been kidnapped by two men: Weston and Devine. They took him to the planet Malacandra to appease the mysterious Sorns. When he runs away though, he meets a Hross, one of the three races of Malacandra. He later meets the Pfifltriggi and finally the Sorns. He discovers that the Sorns are not his enemies despite their huge, fearsome appearance. I think this is a good connection to our society because so often people are judged for their appearances. But sometimes, the ones that don’t fit in are kinder than the people you thought were like you. Although, in my opinion, this isn’t Lewis’ best work, I still have to say it was pretty good.
A Short Story: I Am Free
Short Story: I Am Free
I have done terrible deeds. I have done horrifying sins against others. I have no love. I have made innocent people go through torture. I have gone through suffering. Then he took it away, and they set me free. I may have been abandoned, but I was not trapped anymore. I am free.
My name is Barabbas.
It all started that morning. I thought it was the last day of my life. Well, truthfully, I knew my last day was coming, but I never thought it would be that day. I hadn’t thought about my execution; all I knew was my damp, musty, grimy, smelly jail cell. You see, I killed a man, and then resisted the authority. I feel no guilt, he deserved his fatal death: he stole my wife. My love left me. I was thrown into jail. Even though I was released, killing became my hobby, my life, my addiction. Seeing the fear in a person’s eyes right before their last breath gave me joy, satisfaction… the feeling of power. I have been thrown into jail many times now(I have lost count). I have gotten used to the hard, cold ground and the snarling, rude guards that gave me my stale bread and dirty water. This dreadful place, the jail cell, became my home.
It was a sunny morning, two days before the Jew’s precious Sabbath. I had just scratched another line on my jail cell wall. 106 days have passed by without a word of my release or my death sentence. I sighed and looked up through the barred window, yellow light found its way into the dark cell. I was surprised when the guards gave me a cell with a window. I assumed I would be thrown into a small cell with no windows or light. I lucked out this time. My window over looked Pilot’s courtyard; daily I could listen to the crowd's shouts of protest and the proud voice of Pilot. My cell was a bit too far away to hear what Pilot said, so I assumed the case through the crowds shouts.
Through my cell window I saw a massive crowd enter Pilot’s courtyard. The men and women screamed protests. Pilot walked out to the balcony overlooking the courtyard. The shouts of protest became louder at the sight of him. This should be good. The crowd is extremely unsettled, I thought with a smug smile. I attempted to get comfortable to watch the show.
The crowd became silent as Pilot raised his hand. I heard the voice of Pilot, but I couldn’t hear a word he said. There were too many people stuffed into the courtyard. The murmuring of the crowd stifled Pilot’s shouts. Pilot turned and talked to a bloody man held by two guards. His body was stripped of his clothing except for a small, dirty undergarment. Pilot turned back to the rowdy crowd and asked them something I couldn’t hear. I waited for their response, hoping it would clear up the mystery for me. They all shouted the last thing I expected, “BARABBAS!” I stumbled backwards, confusion flowing into my head. What do they want with me? I thought. Then through my window I heard the worst statement ever, “CRUCIFY HIM!” the crowd shouted with emotion. Terror mixed with agony raised within my body. Today?! No, it CAN’T be today! I must be dreaming. The guards haven't even said a word to me about this! I thought, denial masking my thoughts. “CRUCIFY HIM!” the crowd shouted even louder. I collapsed, not knowing what to do. Think, think! I tried to conjure a plan to escape, but the sound of guard’s feet sounding through the empty hallways distracted my already jumbled thoughts. Questions raced through my head: Why me? Why now? Why were they so mad? What have I done? Why me? The door clicked as the guard unlocked my cell. I did not want to leave. Sweat dripped down my dirt smeared face. The guard threw a discussed look and mumbled something. I could not hear what he said. I fought to stay in my now comforting jail cell. “No! Not today!” I screeched, pulling against the guard’s firm grip. My underfed body protested with pains in my tired legs and arms. “What is wrong with you?” the soldier growled with frustration. “You are being set free.” He yelled at me. I instantly stopped resisting the pull and stared at the irked guard. “What? Is this some kind of joke? I heard the crowd shout my name, and then shout, ‘Crucify him!” I said, short of breath, trying to grasp reality. The guard chuckled and said, “You lowlife, Jewish swine, the crowd chose to crucify the man called Jesus. They chose to set you free instead of this Jesus man.” He shook his head and jerked me out of my cell. I clumsily followed, dazed from the excellent news. “What did this Jesus do that made the crowd want me over him?” I asked, wondering how much lower a man could get. “He claims he is the son of the Jew’s God.” The guard said with a bored voice, hinting that he didn’t want to talk to me. We walked out of the prison and into the open. I blinked at the bright light of Pilot’s courtyard. The crowd had left and was heading to a distant hill. The guard shoved me out of the courtyard and stalked away. I looked around. I am free! I am free! I thought. I looked back at the angry crowd. I wondered about this Jesus man the guard was talking about. I looked at the empty road in the other direction, and then back at the road the crowd was on. Curiosity filled me so I walked toward the angry mob. As I reached the mob, I stood on my tiptoes trying to see what was going on. I walked closer and pushed past a few people. In the center of soldiers was a man carrying a wooden cross. This must be that Jesus the guard was talking about. I thought as I pushed closer. The man carrying the cross looked up and I our eyes met. His eyes, instead of hatred and emptiness, gave off a sparkle of hope. Warmth filled my body with a feeling unexplainable. I stopped, frozen, and the crowd passed me. Confusion filled my head, yet again. I ran back into the crowd, but I couldn’t see Jesus. He had fallen, the cross on top of him. That could have been me today, I thought. I turn away from Jesus, being beaten by soldiers. I ran the opposite direction. The crushing thought hit me again, but this time with more force and meaning:
I have done terrible deeds. I have done horrifying sins against others. I have no love. I have made innocent people go through torture. I have gone through suffering. Then he took it away, and they set me free. I may have been abandoned, but I was not trapped anymore. I am free.
My name is Barabbas.
It all started that morning. I thought it was the last day of my life. Well, truthfully, I knew my last day was coming, but I never thought it would be that day. I hadn’t thought about my execution; all I knew was my damp, musty, grimy, smelly jail cell. You see, I killed a man, and then resisted the authority. I feel no guilt, he deserved his fatal death: he stole my wife. My love left me. I was thrown into jail. Even though I was released, killing became my hobby, my life, my addiction. Seeing the fear in a person’s eyes right before their last breath gave me joy, satisfaction… the feeling of power. I have been thrown into jail many times now(I have lost count). I have gotten used to the hard, cold ground and the snarling, rude guards that gave me my stale bread and dirty water. This dreadful place, the jail cell, became my home.
It was a sunny morning, two days before the Jew’s precious Sabbath. I had just scratched another line on my jail cell wall. 106 days have passed by without a word of my release or my death sentence. I sighed and looked up through the barred window, yellow light found its way into the dark cell. I was surprised when the guards gave me a cell with a window. I assumed I would be thrown into a small cell with no windows or light. I lucked out this time. My window over looked Pilot’s courtyard; daily I could listen to the crowd's shouts of protest and the proud voice of Pilot. My cell was a bit too far away to hear what Pilot said, so I assumed the case through the crowds shouts.
Through my cell window I saw a massive crowd enter Pilot’s courtyard. The men and women screamed protests. Pilot walked out to the balcony overlooking the courtyard. The shouts of protest became louder at the sight of him. This should be good. The crowd is extremely unsettled, I thought with a smug smile. I attempted to get comfortable to watch the show.
The crowd became silent as Pilot raised his hand. I heard the voice of Pilot, but I couldn’t hear a word he said. There were too many people stuffed into the courtyard. The murmuring of the crowd stifled Pilot’s shouts. Pilot turned and talked to a bloody man held by two guards. His body was stripped of his clothing except for a small, dirty undergarment. Pilot turned back to the rowdy crowd and asked them something I couldn’t hear. I waited for their response, hoping it would clear up the mystery for me. They all shouted the last thing I expected, “BARABBAS!” I stumbled backwards, confusion flowing into my head. What do they want with me? I thought. Then through my window I heard the worst statement ever, “CRUCIFY HIM!” the crowd shouted with emotion. Terror mixed with agony raised within my body. Today?! No, it CAN’T be today! I must be dreaming. The guards haven't even said a word to me about this! I thought, denial masking my thoughts. “CRUCIFY HIM!” the crowd shouted even louder. I collapsed, not knowing what to do. Think, think! I tried to conjure a plan to escape, but the sound of guard’s feet sounding through the empty hallways distracted my already jumbled thoughts. Questions raced through my head: Why me? Why now? Why were they so mad? What have I done? Why me? The door clicked as the guard unlocked my cell. I did not want to leave. Sweat dripped down my dirt smeared face. The guard threw a discussed look and mumbled something. I could not hear what he said. I fought to stay in my now comforting jail cell. “No! Not today!” I screeched, pulling against the guard’s firm grip. My underfed body protested with pains in my tired legs and arms. “What is wrong with you?” the soldier growled with frustration. “You are being set free.” He yelled at me. I instantly stopped resisting the pull and stared at the irked guard. “What? Is this some kind of joke? I heard the crowd shout my name, and then shout, ‘Crucify him!” I said, short of breath, trying to grasp reality. The guard chuckled and said, “You lowlife, Jewish swine, the crowd chose to crucify the man called Jesus. They chose to set you free instead of this Jesus man.” He shook his head and jerked me out of my cell. I clumsily followed, dazed from the excellent news. “What did this Jesus do that made the crowd want me over him?” I asked, wondering how much lower a man could get. “He claims he is the son of the Jew’s God.” The guard said with a bored voice, hinting that he didn’t want to talk to me. We walked out of the prison and into the open. I blinked at the bright light of Pilot’s courtyard. The crowd had left and was heading to a distant hill. The guard shoved me out of the courtyard and stalked away. I looked around. I am free! I am free! I thought. I looked back at the angry crowd. I wondered about this Jesus man the guard was talking about. I looked at the empty road in the other direction, and then back at the road the crowd was on. Curiosity filled me so I walked toward the angry mob. As I reached the mob, I stood on my tiptoes trying to see what was going on. I walked closer and pushed past a few people. In the center of soldiers was a man carrying a wooden cross. This must be that Jesus the guard was talking about. I thought as I pushed closer. The man carrying the cross looked up and I our eyes met. His eyes, instead of hatred and emptiness, gave off a sparkle of hope. Warmth filled my body with a feeling unexplainable. I stopped, frozen, and the crowd passed me. Confusion filled my head, yet again. I ran back into the crowd, but I couldn’t see Jesus. He had fallen, the cross on top of him. That could have been me today, I thought. I turn away from Jesus, being beaten by soldiers. I ran the opposite direction. The crushing thought hit me again, but this time with more force and meaning:
I am free.
By: Jamie Bauer
25 May 2009
An Inspiration
It is unbelievable how one day a man whom you love so much is fine, and then the next he is on the brink between life and death. I have known Mr. Mark since I was eight years old and he is like a second father to me. He had been feeling tired for a while, but no one thought much of it. One day he went to the doctor and they told him his white blood cell count was not right. A few days later my mother told me he had leukemia; I broke down into tears.
He was put in the hospital and I was sent pictures of him being his normal self nothing but smiles! It gave me a false sense of reassurance. A few weeks later I went to visit him in the hospital. I was nowhere near prepared. I saw him lying in his bed bruised and so weak that he could barely sit up. I put on a fake reassuring smile. Once is stepped out of the hospital room I broke down into hysterical tears. I wish that was the worst that I saw him, but each time I came back he was worse and worse. He could not move, he sat there shaking in his bed literally waiting while the poison was injected slowly into his veins. How the doctors explained it was that they needed to kill a weed but in order to do that they had to kill everything and start fresh. In other words kill hi slowly but leave just enough of him so hopefully he could recover. This did not sit well with me. At that point I could not comprehend how killing him in anyway could help. It made no sense to me. When I thought he could not be any worse I would be shocked to find him just a little bit closer to death. Each time I visited him I could barley loom at him because I didn’t want to start crying and have him worry about me. Towards the end I was sure that he was going to die, that I would never have my Mr. Mark again.
Even when he was at his worst: bruised, shaking, pale, and lifeless he managed to be the sweetest patient. You could tell there was something different about him; he wished he could spend more time with his family but that if it was his time to go it was alright. He knew exactly where he was going and if God told him it was time he knew it was the right thing. He let his light shine in the darkest of situations and showed God to people when he was almost on his deathbed.
He is a remarkable man and this experience changed my life. You need to let the ones you love know how much they mean to you, and you can shine for God anywhere. Mr. Mark is an inspiration and a hero to me. I wish I could be more like him, so selfless and fearless. Throughout this whole ordeal when I visited him he would say things just to make me smile, as he lay in his bed shaking and sweating incessantly. He is in remission, and has recently gone back to work as a firefighter. Hundreds of people were praying for him; so if nothing else this shows everyone that God hears our prays!
He was put in the hospital and I was sent pictures of him being his normal self nothing but smiles! It gave me a false sense of reassurance. A few weeks later I went to visit him in the hospital. I was nowhere near prepared. I saw him lying in his bed bruised and so weak that he could barely sit up. I put on a fake reassuring smile. Once is stepped out of the hospital room I broke down into hysterical tears. I wish that was the worst that I saw him, but each time I came back he was worse and worse. He could not move, he sat there shaking in his bed literally waiting while the poison was injected slowly into his veins. How the doctors explained it was that they needed to kill a weed but in order to do that they had to kill everything and start fresh. In other words kill hi slowly but leave just enough of him so hopefully he could recover. This did not sit well with me. At that point I could not comprehend how killing him in anyway could help. It made no sense to me. When I thought he could not be any worse I would be shocked to find him just a little bit closer to death. Each time I visited him I could barley loom at him because I didn’t want to start crying and have him worry about me. Towards the end I was sure that he was going to die, that I would never have my Mr. Mark again.
Even when he was at his worst: bruised, shaking, pale, and lifeless he managed to be the sweetest patient. You could tell there was something different about him; he wished he could spend more time with his family but that if it was his time to go it was alright. He knew exactly where he was going and if God told him it was time he knew it was the right thing. He let his light shine in the darkest of situations and showed God to people when he was almost on his deathbed.
He is a remarkable man and this experience changed my life. You need to let the ones you love know how much they mean to you, and you can shine for God anywhere. Mr. Mark is an inspiration and a hero to me. I wish I could be more like him, so selfless and fearless. Throughout this whole ordeal when I visited him he would say things just to make me smile, as he lay in his bed shaking and sweating incessantly. He is in remission, and has recently gone back to work as a firefighter. Hundreds of people were praying for him; so if nothing else this shows everyone that God hears our prays!
Reflective Essay
So, I'm not entirely sure what a reflective essay is, but here's my best attempt:
As I sit here in the emergency room, a song runs through my head.
"Joy unspeakable that won't go away. Just enough strength, to live for today. So I never have to worry what tomorrow will bring, 'cause my faith is on a solid rock, I am counting on God. I am counting on, I am counting on God" (by Desperation Band)
Right now, these lyrics mean so much to me. I know that I cannot handle what lies ahead without God's strength, and my future rests solely in his hands. I'm reminded of a "dojo rule" I had to memorize for karate: "Endure hardship, for it builds character." Two years ago, I went on a backpacking/canoeing trip, and sprained my ankle the first day. The only way I managed was through God's strength. But I remember being on the trail in intense pain, just quoting to myself over and over, "Endure hardship for it builds character." But hard as it was, that trip taught me so much.
And so, as I sit here, once again in intense pain, I realize that I do trust God in this. I don't know what's going to happen, I have no idea what the next few days will hold, but I have no control over it, and worrying won't help at all. I truly am "counting on God."
As I sit here in the emergency room, a song runs through my head.
"Joy unspeakable that won't go away. Just enough strength, to live for today. So I never have to worry what tomorrow will bring, 'cause my faith is on a solid rock, I am counting on God. I am counting on, I am counting on God" (by Desperation Band)
Right now, these lyrics mean so much to me. I know that I cannot handle what lies ahead without God's strength, and my future rests solely in his hands. I'm reminded of a "dojo rule" I had to memorize for karate: "Endure hardship, for it builds character." Two years ago, I went on a backpacking/canoeing trip, and sprained my ankle the first day. The only way I managed was through God's strength. But I remember being on the trail in intense pain, just quoting to myself over and over, "Endure hardship for it builds character." But hard as it was, that trip taught me so much.
And so, as I sit here, once again in intense pain, I realize that I do trust God in this. I don't know what's going to happen, I have no idea what the next few days will hold, but I have no control over it, and worrying won't help at all. I truly am "counting on God."
Childhood dreams
I lunged forward summoning up the last little bit of my strength and reached for the green speck in the corner of my vision. This battle had been going on for at least an hour. Originally, there were five of us, but now it was just Kris and me. That green cloth had been evading me, but I was determined to be the victor. It was do or die, now or never.
I died. Kris reached for my tiny ankle and pulled my black sock off just seconds before I reached his foot. The sock war had ended. Kris was still wearing his green sock and the rest of us were defeated and sockless. “You put up a good fight, sis.” My brothers and the other brothers (Kris and Sean) said, trying to ease my battered ego. No one ever expected me to win; I was the youngest by far and the only girl.
We traded Pokémon cards; we camped out in my background; we played king of the hill; we spent hours blowing up tanks on Nintendo 64; we made sheet forts that invaded the entire downstairs. We were kids with a flawless childhood. The five of us invented countless games that didn’t even make sense to anyone but us.
My experiences with my brothers and these two boys shaped the rest of my life. Through them I learned quite a bit about the beauty that God created in life and people. Kris and Sean’s dad was best friends with my dad in college. Growing up, I could barely differentiate between them and my real brothers. We only stayed with them a few times a year, but we made up for that by having fun 100% of the time we were together.
Through our shared experiences, the five of us formed a bond that time and distance cannot break. Females tend to connect mainly through talking, but these relationships taught me how to also connect simply through sharing life and laughter. We could spend five hours doing nothing but play video games and I’d feel like I knew them better than if we had spent a day talking about serious things.
Even though I haven’t seen Sean or Kris in years, I know I can talk to them about any problem and I would trust them with my life. When we finally connect after being apart for a long time, it really is just like we were together yesterday. Kris may finally be taller than me, but in our hearts I’m still six and he’s still nine.
Anyone who is good friends with me will know that I have a huge weak spot for animals. Simply holding a tiny kitten will make my eyes become teary. That love of animals started with Sean and Kris’ two dogs. They had a lively golden retriever named Astro and an almost blind mutt named Fang. I’m actually a cat person now, but as a kid I couldn’t imagine loving any animal more than I loved Astro. Astro would wrestle and hug me, and when my parents told me it was time to go home I’d run back inside to say goodbye to the dogs one more time.
Sean was probably the first guy I ever had a crush on. It was the silly dream of a five-year-old, but it was the world to me then. We both still joke about being meant for each other, but in reality we’re both simply grateful for an amazing friendship. Psychologists talk a lot about how your childhood and family define who you are later in life; I actually believe it. These boys taught me how to have amazing friendships.
I’m so thankful that God gave me memories like these to cherish for the remainder of my life. I look forward to someday in the future watching all of our kids play together and laugh; maybe I’ll buy a golden retriever and maybe our kids will teach us some new games.
24 May 2009
Book Review: The Bluest Eye
Toni Morrison's first novel, The Bluest Eye, written in 1970 is a carefully crafted story of Pecola Breedlove, a young African-American girl living in Ohio after the Great Depression. She lives with the MacTeers, who have taken her in after they learned of her difficult childhood. Pecola has abusive parents: a distant mother and a drunken father. Pecola sees herself as an ugly black girl and believes that her entire life would be better if only she had blue eyes.
This book has recurring themes such as racial insecurity, rape, incest and poverty. The themes of The Bluest Eye relate to modern life in the sense that, even though segregation and slavery no longer exist, there is still racial discrimination. Also, rape continues to be an extreme problem in America- incest is not as common but still occurs.
This book will cause readers to sympathize with Pecola through it's horrifying description of her account of rape. Toni Morrison also uses her impeccable literary technique to make readers feel as if they are experiencing Pecola's trials right alongside her.
This book has recurring themes such as racial insecurity, rape, incest and poverty. The themes of The Bluest Eye relate to modern life in the sense that, even though segregation and slavery no longer exist, there is still racial discrimination. Also, rape continues to be an extreme problem in America- incest is not as common but still occurs.
This book will cause readers to sympathize with Pecola through it's horrifying description of her account of rape. Toni Morrison also uses her impeccable literary technique to make readers feel as if they are experiencing Pecola's trials right alongside her.
18 May 2009
Book Review: The Once and Future King
The Once and Future King has come to be regarded as a classic piece of literature. This retelling of the King Arthur story starts in his childhood, as "the Wart" talking lessons from the eccentric Merlyn and follows the story through Arthur's life and reign. Although this story has been told time and again, T.H. White manages to bring it to life in a new way.
The first "book" within this book, The Sword and the Stone, starts in Artur's childhood. Arthur lives with his uncle, Sir Ector, and his cousin, Kay. As a child Kay called Arthur "the Wart" and the nickname stuck as they grew older. This book focuses on Arthur's education. Sir Ector is looking for a new tutor for the boys, and finally hires Merlyn. Merlyn is a wizard who often seems to be losing his grip on reality, and whose teaching methods are far from ordinary. The crazy tutor turns Arthur into various animals as part of his "education."
As in modern culture, education is important in this story. However, education is defined differently than it is now. Arthur's education focuses on fighting, jousting, falconry, and, once Merlyn begins to teach, even more obscure areas of study. Today education is important in order to secure a future. If one does not obtain a college degree, there is little hope for a profitable career. However, for Arthur and Kay their education seemed to serve a different purpose. They belonged to a noble family, thus they had a fairly secure future. So why be educated at all? It was simply a symbol of their status. Being well educated proved that their family was wealthy.
This book does a fantastic job of making the King Arthur story more relateable. It is definitely worthy of the respect it has gained.
The first "book" within this book, The Sword and the Stone, starts in Artur's childhood. Arthur lives with his uncle, Sir Ector, and his cousin, Kay. As a child Kay called Arthur "the Wart" and the nickname stuck as they grew older. This book focuses on Arthur's education. Sir Ector is looking for a new tutor for the boys, and finally hires Merlyn. Merlyn is a wizard who often seems to be losing his grip on reality, and whose teaching methods are far from ordinary. The crazy tutor turns Arthur into various animals as part of his "education."
As in modern culture, education is important in this story. However, education is defined differently than it is now. Arthur's education focuses on fighting, jousting, falconry, and, once Merlyn begins to teach, even more obscure areas of study. Today education is important in order to secure a future. If one does not obtain a college degree, there is little hope for a profitable career. However, for Arthur and Kay their education seemed to serve a different purpose. They belonged to a noble family, thus they had a fairly secure future. So why be educated at all? It was simply a symbol of their status. Being well educated proved that their family was wealthy.
This book does a fantastic job of making the King Arthur story more relateable. It is definitely worthy of the respect it has gained.
The Hobbit
The Hobbit
by J.R.R. Tolken
published: 1937
“In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort.”
Backstory:
The hole in the quote above, belongs Bilbo Baggins. He is an upstanding member of the Shire. Bilbo is, like most of his kind, well off, well fed, and the happiest, sitting by his own fire, smoking his pipe. A hobbit is a funny creature, they detest adventure but love to hear the stories. Hobbits are never late for dinner or any meal. The last person one would expect to see set off on a hazardous journey would be Bilbo Baggins.When Gandalf the Grey stops by one morning, “looking for someone to share in an adventure,” Bilbo bids the wizard to go away though he says no such thing. Hobbits are not rude or they try not to be at any cost. No such luck, however; soon 13 fortune-seeking dwarves arrive on the hobbit’s doorstep in search of a great burglar to help them on their quest. (Gandolf tells them bliblo is the greatest burglar of all times) Before Bilbo could protest, he is swept out his door and into a dangerous adventure.
Review:
The Hobbit is the beginning to the epic The Lord of the Rings, but it still stands quite well on its own. This epic begins with trouble with Smaug, the dragon, causing trouble for the dwarves. Along the way Bilbo encouters trouble with the Ring of Power. The ring at the times it seemed a mere piece of luck, it comes in quite handy for Bilbo during his adventure. More important to this story is the journey of Bilbo and the dwarves toward their ancient home, the Lonely Mountain. The dwarves and Bilbo go to the Lonely mountain to reclaim their home and treasure from Smaug,the dragon. The Hobbit is a perfect adventure story, ideal for reading to children or for anyone of any age. Bilbo, a seemingly insignificant person of a"lesser" race of people, becomes a wonderful hero. Also as Bilbo contiues on his journey he finds that he has more courage than he ever imagined.
The main theme of the novel was very hard to find and is not clearly shown because there are quite a few themes in this book. The main point is, if you over come your fears, you can achieve almost anything. Bilbo is the perfect example of this. In a sense we are all Bilbo and we need to overcome our fears and we will acomplish great things.. After Bilbo overcomes his main fears of adventure, danger and failure, he is able to complete the mission successfully.
I highly recommend this book for children of all ages as well as adults. Why? Not only does is it relevent to the Middle Earth saga but it has a certain appeal that makes the reader want to continue reading the book all day. I have read the next three books on Hobbits’ adventures written by J.R.R. Tolken and they are just as amazing.
by J.R.R. Tolken
published: 1937
“In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit. Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with nothing in it to sit down on or to eat: it was a hobbit-hole, and that means comfort.”
Backstory:
The hole in the quote above, belongs Bilbo Baggins. He is an upstanding member of the Shire. Bilbo is, like most of his kind, well off, well fed, and the happiest, sitting by his own fire, smoking his pipe. A hobbit is a funny creature, they detest adventure but love to hear the stories. Hobbits are never late for dinner or any meal. The last person one would expect to see set off on a hazardous journey would be Bilbo Baggins.When Gandalf the Grey stops by one morning, “looking for someone to share in an adventure,” Bilbo bids the wizard to go away though he says no such thing. Hobbits are not rude or they try not to be at any cost. No such luck, however; soon 13 fortune-seeking dwarves arrive on the hobbit’s doorstep in search of a great burglar to help them on their quest. (Gandolf tells them bliblo is the greatest burglar of all times) Before Bilbo could protest, he is swept out his door and into a dangerous adventure.
Review:
The Hobbit is the beginning to the epic The Lord of the Rings, but it still stands quite well on its own. This epic begins with trouble with Smaug, the dragon, causing trouble for the dwarves. Along the way Bilbo encouters trouble with the Ring of Power. The ring at the times it seemed a mere piece of luck, it comes in quite handy for Bilbo during his adventure. More important to this story is the journey of Bilbo and the dwarves toward their ancient home, the Lonely Mountain. The dwarves and Bilbo go to the Lonely mountain to reclaim their home and treasure from Smaug,the dragon. The Hobbit is a perfect adventure story, ideal for reading to children or for anyone of any age. Bilbo, a seemingly insignificant person of a"lesser" race of people, becomes a wonderful hero. Also as Bilbo contiues on his journey he finds that he has more courage than he ever imagined.
The main theme of the novel was very hard to find and is not clearly shown because there are quite a few themes in this book. The main point is, if you over come your fears, you can achieve almost anything. Bilbo is the perfect example of this. In a sense we are all Bilbo and we need to overcome our fears and we will acomplish great things.. After Bilbo overcomes his main fears of adventure, danger and failure, he is able to complete the mission successfully.
I highly recommend this book for children of all ages as well as adults. Why? Not only does is it relevent to the Middle Earth saga but it has a certain appeal that makes the reader want to continue reading the book all day. I have read the next three books on Hobbits’ adventures written by J.R.R. Tolken and they are just as amazing.
book review
The Chronicles of Narnia The Lion, the Witch And The Wardrobe
This book by C. S. Lewis was about four children (Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy).
They lived during the air-raids. These four children got sent to London during this time. Lucy, the youngest, found this wardrobe and found this whole new world inside of it. She spent most of her time in this world. The creatures were shocked when they saw a daughter of Eve. When she came back to the real world, she showed her siblings and they also went inside of this wardrobe and stayed in this world for maybe a week. They fought off the devilish creatures and went back home. When they went back home, it was only a few hours that they had been gone.
C.S. Lewis is a very good book writer in my perspective. He tells the story and also talks to you as you read. He has a very good imagination. When I read this, I thought I was in the story and fighting off the bad dudes and walking all around Narnia. Lewis wrote this book not just for his own well being, but for his daughter Lucy. By the time this book got published, she was too old for fairy tales.He still wrote it for her.
This book by C. S. Lewis was about four children (Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy).
They lived during the air-raids. These four children got sent to London during this time. Lucy, the youngest, found this wardrobe and found this whole new world inside of it. She spent most of her time in this world. The creatures were shocked when they saw a daughter of Eve. When she came back to the real world, she showed her siblings and they also went inside of this wardrobe and stayed in this world for maybe a week. They fought off the devilish creatures and went back home. When they went back home, it was only a few hours that they had been gone.
C.S. Lewis is a very good book writer in my perspective. He tells the story and also talks to you as you read. He has a very good imagination. When I read this, I thought I was in the story and fighting off the bad dudes and walking all around Narnia. Lewis wrote this book not just for his own well being, but for his daughter Lucy. By the time this book got published, she was too old for fairy tales.He still wrote it for her.
Till We Have Faces: A Myth Retold
The Ancient Greek Myths have been retold again and again, but never quite in a way quite like Till We Have Faces. In C.S. Lewis’ last novel, Till We Have Faces, he managed to bare the human soul in a way that his more apologetic works, like the Great Divorce could not. The story manages to work through issues of family, jealousy, gender, faith, selfish/selfless love and ultimate purpose.
TWHF is the first-hand story of the ugly princess Orual, her love for her beautiful sister Psyche, and her complaint against the gods. Orual lives in Glome, a pre-Christian, barbaric kingdom that is distantly influenced by Greek culture. The people of her kingdom worship local variations of the Greek gods. Their main goddess is Ungit, elsewhere known as Aphrodite. Surprisingly, however, her statue is not the beauty of the Greeks, but a black shapeless rock splattered with the blood of sacrifices.
Orual’s father, the King, is a violent and unlovable man who is constantly hoping for a male heir. He gets Orual and Redival with his first wife, and Psyche from his second. Psyche is incredibly beautiful and Orual, who is repulsively ugly, loves Psyche possessively after her mother’s death. Orual and Psyche find a father figure and a friend in the form of their tutor, a foreign slave known as the Fox.
Here Lewis begins to retell the classic story of Psyche and Cupid. The lowly people of Glome start to worship Psyche as a goddess because of her beauty and charm; Aphrodite/Ungit afflicts the land with a curse in jealous anger. Out of fear and desperation, the people turn on Psyche and send her as a sacrifice to be destroyed by the son of Ungit, the god of the Grey Mountain (otherwise known as Cupid). Upon seeing Psyche, the god of the Grey Mountain falls in love with her and takes her as his wife to live with him. However, because Psyche is a mortal, she is not permitted to see her husband’s face and is not aware of his identity.
Orual’s true problems commence when she goes to bury the bones of a sister she believes long dead. Orual is shocked when she finds Psyche not dead, but alive and happy. Psyche tells Orual of her new life with her new husband, but Orual is unconvinced. She cannot see the palace and the fine robes that Psyche talks about. Thus Orual’s problems begin.
Lewis’ true skill comes through in his ability to show us a very real woman. Orual is writing this account as a formal account against the gods yet it gives us a clear picture of her heart and mind. Although the surface theology is pagan, Lewis masterfully weaves in many worldviews, including Greek rationalism and rumors of an intimate beautiful relationship with the divine.
The scene of greatest tension and the title even allude to a phrase in 1 Corinthians 13:12a, “Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face.” So, as you can see, Lewis lures the reader to the God of Love without in-your-face symbolism. The real jewel of Till We Have Faces is the lessons the reader learns along the way. The reader is forced to figure out on his own when Orual is deceiving herself and when she perceives her actions right, when they really are wrong.
This book definitely requires a second read, and anyone will understand that after the first. All in all, I think Lewis gave an accurate assessment when he claimed this as his best work. I certainly recommend this book to all readers!
Book Review
Mary Wollstonecraft was born on August 30, 1797 in London England. Her father was a philosopher and her mother was a feminist. Both her parents were accomplished writers. Mary’ s mother died four weeks after giving birth to her, and her father remarried when she was four. Mary loved to read and she would borrow books from her father’s library.
Frankenstein tells a tale of Victor Frankenstein who from a young age is fascinated in science and after years and years of research is convinced he has discovered the secret of life. He then spends months creating a monster out of old body parts. Then one night he brings his creation to life and is awoken to the sight of his creation looming over his head. Victor is horrified by its ugliness and this utter monstrosity and runs. Victor receives note that his younger brother William has just died. Then the questions start plowing into his head: Did the monster kill him? Will he hurt the other people I love?
Marry Shelley’s book provided the inspiration for countless things such as, TV shows, other novels, and movies. This book keeps you guessing until the end when all of the loose ends are tied up. Mary Shelley was way ahead of her time when writing this novel. Frankenstein is a book that is very easy to relate to with its vast amount of human emotions such as the loss of a loved one, success, triumph, and guilt, all if which we can understand. A major theme in the book is temptation, such as when Victor gives into the temptation to create this creature without thinking about the consequences it might have first. This story brings in a huge theme of science fiction, dealing with the thought of man playing God and creating another man. This story also brings up a theme of philosophy, such as in the roles of man and God, and the idea of nature vs. nurture. Whoever you are this book will has something that will intrigue you and draw you in. Shelley is very skillful in her manner of conveying her ideas; she writes in a way where ideas are not forced upon you, your mind just picks them up without realizing. This novel is very relatable and has something to interest everyone!
Frankenstein tells a tale of Victor Frankenstein who from a young age is fascinated in science and after years and years of research is convinced he has discovered the secret of life. He then spends months creating a monster out of old body parts. Then one night he brings his creation to life and is awoken to the sight of his creation looming over his head. Victor is horrified by its ugliness and this utter monstrosity and runs. Victor receives note that his younger brother William has just died. Then the questions start plowing into his head: Did the monster kill him? Will he hurt the other people I love?
Marry Shelley’s book provided the inspiration for countless things such as, TV shows, other novels, and movies. This book keeps you guessing until the end when all of the loose ends are tied up. Mary Shelley was way ahead of her time when writing this novel. Frankenstein is a book that is very easy to relate to with its vast amount of human emotions such as the loss of a loved one, success, triumph, and guilt, all if which we can understand. A major theme in the book is temptation, such as when Victor gives into the temptation to create this creature without thinking about the consequences it might have first. This story brings in a huge theme of science fiction, dealing with the thought of man playing God and creating another man. This story also brings up a theme of philosophy, such as in the roles of man and God, and the idea of nature vs. nurture. Whoever you are this book will has something that will intrigue you and draw you in. Shelley is very skillful in her manner of conveying her ideas; she writes in a way where ideas are not forced upon you, your mind just picks them up without realizing. This novel is very relatable and has something to interest everyone!
Great Expectations
Great Expectations was written in and published from 1860 to 1861 by Charles Dickens in the All the Year Round. Pip is an orphan boy who was raised near the Kent marshes. He runs into an escaped convict and little to his knowledge his life is changed forever. Pip is sent to meet Miss Havisham and her beautiful girl (Estella), which she raises to destroy men’s hearts just like hers was crushed. Pip is oblivious to what Estella is doing to him and falls in love with her. He will do anything to become acceptable to her including leaving his family behind when great wealth is presented by an anonymous benefactor. Pip thinks that the benefactor is Miss Havisham and that she provided the wealth so he could eventually marry Estella. When he eventually finds out that his sponsor is actually the escaped convict he helped in the marshes he inevitably has to make a decision that could destroy him. So basically the story follows a boy named Pip through his life and all the mistakes he makes.
I loved this book. The sensory language Charles Dickens uses appeals to all your senses. Some people may say the book is over “worded” but I disagree because all the detail helps you to understand the book more deeply. The way Dickens describes and portrays emotions is perfect. His word choice is impeccable and the characters are very personable. The plot was very well planned out and it was easily followed. Overall I would give this book a 10/10!
I loved this book. The sensory language Charles Dickens uses appeals to all your senses. Some people may say the book is over “worded” but I disagree because all the detail helps you to understand the book more deeply. The way Dickens describes and portrays emotions is perfect. His word choice is impeccable and the characters are very personable. The plot was very well planned out and it was easily followed. Overall I would give this book a 10/10!
Book Review! --- A Tale of Two Cities
During the time of the French revolution, are different conflicts and characters. A young lady, Lucie, finds out her 18year dead father is still alive. A man accused of treason, Darnay, wins his case and is pleaded innocent. A family’s son is run over by a high-class carriage. Two men, wanting to marry Lucie, struggle to tell her their feelings.
As Dickens’s novel progresses, the story becomes more and more intriguing, telling of a time of terror and treason during the French Revolution. Dickens’s novel is very descriptive. He uses words that paint pictures in your mind. Unlike most novels, A Tale of Two Cities dives right into a suspense filled beginning. Most novels start out slow, and then become exciting, but this novel is exciting from the first page. Dickens describes his characters extremely well. I feel like I know the sweet Lucie or heroic Carton. I give this book "Two Thumbs Up!!!"
As Dickens’s novel progresses, the story becomes more and more intriguing, telling of a time of terror and treason during the French Revolution. Dickens’s novel is very descriptive. He uses words that paint pictures in your mind. Unlike most novels, A Tale of Two Cities dives right into a suspense filled beginning. Most novels start out slow, and then become exciting, but this novel is exciting from the first page. Dickens describes his characters extremely well. I feel like I know the sweet Lucie or heroic Carton. I give this book "Two Thumbs Up!!!"
Heaven's Fire
FLASH!
The sky is filled with a blinding light, a blazing fire, from heaven.
BOOM!
The atmosphere screams out in auguish as the fire tears at its invisible flesh.
CRACK!
The fire, sharper than a sword, slices through the millions of particles in the air.
SPLASH!
The sky’s blood and tears flow down from the crying, wounded clouds.
WHOOSH!
The atmosphere’s dyeing sighs gust and blow over the crimson earth.
POW!
The fire relentlessly stabs at the bleeding air again and again.
Drip…
The sky’s blood drains, leaving it lifeless.
Drop…
The atmosphere cut deep, its wounds crusted with dry blood.
Silence.
It… is… finished…
~Jamie Bauer
The sky is filled with a blinding light, a blazing fire, from heaven.
BOOM!
The atmosphere screams out in auguish as the fire tears at its invisible flesh.
CRACK!
The fire, sharper than a sword, slices through the millions of particles in the air.
SPLASH!
The sky’s blood and tears flow down from the crying, wounded clouds.
WHOOSH!
The atmosphere’s dyeing sighs gust and blow over the crimson earth.
POW!
The fire relentlessly stabs at the bleeding air again and again.
Drip…
The sky’s blood drains, leaving it lifeless.
Drop…
The atmosphere cut deep, its wounds crusted with dry blood.
Silence.
It… is… finished…
~Jamie Bauer
14 May 2009
class of 09
Leavin' the school now and forever,
Apart from your friends and teachers just not always together.
Well, this is it, no school work or toots from teachers,
Be happy you're leavin', get in your car and blast your speakers!
Don’t worry about the small kids, we’ll be fine,
Stop your cryin'!
Well this is for you seniors go have fun enjoy yourselves
Know that God is with you and put your diploma on your shelves. :)
I love you guys!!
Apart from your friends and teachers just not always together.
Well, this is it, no school work or toots from teachers,
Be happy you're leavin', get in your car and blast your speakers!
Don’t worry about the small kids, we’ll be fine,
Stop your cryin'!
Well this is for you seniors go have fun enjoy yourselves
Know that God is with you and put your diploma on your shelves. :)
I love you guys!!
13 May 2009
Random Free Verse
Ok, I know I already posted my free verse poem, but I wrote this today, and I liked it better. I don't care whether or not we workshop it, I just wanted to post it.
Why are we not stronger than this-
This silly desire, this stupid passion?
I can feel it in your gaze,
Hear it in your touch,
Do you see what I'm saying?
My whole body screams
As we move closer.
My heart screams for more,
Screams to be loved.
But my head screams for sense,
Screams that I must stop
Before it's too late.
Why are we not stronger than this-
This silly desire, this stupid passion?
I can feel it in your gaze,
Hear it in your touch,
Do you see what I'm saying?
My whole body screams
As we move closer.
My heart screams for more,
Screams to be loved.
But my head screams for sense,
Screams that I must stop
Before it's too late.
Free Verse Poem
I stare vacantly over your shoulder-
and I can feel you staring into my eyes.
I always walk away first
while you stand waiting for one more goodbye.
I feel this slipping from our hands.
but we could pretend the stars aren't the only ones that are falling fast...
and I can feel you staring into my eyes.
I always walk away first
while you stand waiting for one more goodbye.
I feel this slipping from our hands.
but we could pretend the stars aren't the only ones that are falling fast...
Homecoming Flag
A red cloth quivers
on a late spring breeze.
Speak Summer!
When you took your leave
you injected a poison
into me.
A playful chase commences
with my other heart.
The other life pump of my soul has returned.
Speak Friend!
When the tides of time brought
you home,
they gave me back healthy veins.
That viper's weapon
no longer encumbers our games.
I will catch you soon enough
and wrestle you to the floor.
on a late spring breeze.
Speak Summer!
When you took your leave
you injected a poison
into me.
A playful chase commences
with my other heart.
The other life pump of my soul has returned.
Speak Friend!
When the tides of time brought
you home,
they gave me back healthy veins.
That viper's weapon
no longer encumbers our games.
I will catch you soon enough
and wrestle you to the floor.
Free Verse
Harmony and melody,
two sounds intertwined.
Different but perfect.
Both wound together
and knit into my mind,
playing over and over again.
Day and night
my mind composesbeautiful sounds,
trying to put music to this world.
Yet nothing ever quite fits.
My mind can not keep up
with the pace of this world.
It is just too easy
for your world and everything you know
to be co pletely altered in one slight second.
two sounds intertwined.
Different but perfect.
Both wound together
and knit into my mind,
playing over and over again.
Day and night
my mind composesbeautiful sounds,
trying to put music to this world.
Yet nothing ever quite fits.
My mind can not keep up
with the pace of this world.
It is just too easy
for your world and everything you know
to be co pletely altered in one slight second.
12 May 2009
Silence
I hesitate to speak.
Is silence better than accusation?
Should I dam up my heart like a river,
And let the criticism bring me to overflowing,
Breaking the dam at last?
Or is it better to let my heart flow,
The beat creating waves for the world to see,
Whether they like it or not?
My words are meant to express my hurt.
But what if they double it?
If I speak will I be pushed down and rejected?
Left in the dirt, trampled down,
My thoughts, feelings, ideas
Scattered through the mud like small strips of paper,
Surrounding pressure shoving them into the mire
Until only a tiny smudged corner is left visible.
Can I raise myself from the filth?
Do I dare show my mud- and tear-stained face?
Can I let my heart beat again?
Will I?
Is silence better than accusation?
Should I dam up my heart like a river,
And let the criticism bring me to overflowing,
Breaking the dam at last?
Or is it better to let my heart flow,
The beat creating waves for the world to see,
Whether they like it or not?
My words are meant to express my hurt.
But what if they double it?
If I speak will I be pushed down and rejected?
Left in the dirt, trampled down,
My thoughts, feelings, ideas
Scattered through the mud like small strips of paper,
Surrounding pressure shoving them into the mire
Until only a tiny smudged corner is left visible.
Can I raise myself from the filth?
Do I dare show my mud- and tear-stained face?
Can I let my heart beat again?
Will I?
Free Verse Poem
Little girl, what's the matter?
Little girl, why do you cry?
Such sorrow written on your face,
Your life has been so hard.
Baby girl, I'm sorry you're hurt.
Baby girl, I want to help.
I feel your pain,
Isn't there something I can do?
Innocent girl, you've done nothing wrong.
Innocent girl, you don't deserve this life.
But God is here for you.
He wants to give you a New Hope.
Beloved girl, you are precious.
Beloved girl, you are a child of God.
The Angel Cries
Broken laws, remaining bound by rust stained bars
as the black and white fades with the fashion.
And as I sit here I think upon my actions and realize it all meant nothing
This is who I am; the fire of the arsonist, I burn destruction and take that which isn't mine.
I cause my own self-destruction.
Torment, constricted in flames.
Nothing eradicates the heart more than deception.
Stained words taint me.
You break the balance, and destroy that which was already left desolate.
How can you gorge yourself on my downfall when I begged for love in your eyes?
You've started this and I've become mere fractures in your alluring kiss.
And all you want is a machine, no emotions, just exterior in this moment
What is love, if love has left me behind?
Those who claimed my soul eternally have left me caught alone in the silence of static pulses.
They left me, when all was amiss
left in the dust, left, no kiss.
Never to return, lust and nothing more I crumble.
My body was trashed, as was your word.
Though you sigh, ignorant, indifferent to this, my throat constricts in agony.
And now I walk painted in the black of your eyes and have a strange vision;
There you are, twenty years from now, on the streets, diseased, alone in your decadence.
And I will be one of the vapors in the air, that yet remains to linger by your eyes.
You will forget my name, but not my face-our faces, and how you took our passion.
And you will know the sorrow of a thousand tears, just as they that streamed down the front of my neck.
Your trapped, unable to cut out your confused, conflicted, contrition.
And as I light this, you take me away-the remnants of beauty and love forsaken.
--Emoesque
as the black and white fades with the fashion.
And as I sit here I think upon my actions and realize it all meant nothing
This is who I am; the fire of the arsonist, I burn destruction and take that which isn't mine.
I cause my own self-destruction.
Torment, constricted in flames.
Nothing eradicates the heart more than deception.
Stained words taint me.
You break the balance, and destroy that which was already left desolate.
How can you gorge yourself on my downfall when I begged for love in your eyes?
You've started this and I've become mere fractures in your alluring kiss.
And all you want is a machine, no emotions, just exterior in this moment
What is love, if love has left me behind?
Those who claimed my soul eternally have left me caught alone in the silence of static pulses.
They left me, when all was amiss
left in the dust, left, no kiss.
Never to return, lust and nothing more I crumble.
My body was trashed, as was your word.
Though you sigh, ignorant, indifferent to this, my throat constricts in agony.
And now I walk painted in the black of your eyes and have a strange vision;
There you are, twenty years from now, on the streets, diseased, alone in your decadence.
And I will be one of the vapors in the air, that yet remains to linger by your eyes.
You will forget my name, but not my face-our faces, and how you took our passion.
And you will know the sorrow of a thousand tears, just as they that streamed down the front of my neck.
Your trapped, unable to cut out your confused, conflicted, contrition.
And as I light this, you take me away-the remnants of beauty and love forsaken.
--Emoesque
free verse
I was thinking of Forest Gump when I was trying to write a poem and i was in a hurry and i really dont like it...
Life is like a box of chocolate, you never know what you’re ganna get.
Looking back one could defiantly say that about my life,
I’ve left best friends behind and I’ve moved well over five times
I've had my share of heart breaks and I’ve have my share of wasted days,
I've faltered in the Darkness and I've danced in the bright Light,
I've soared over fences and ridden peaks of waves,
I've seen my life before my eyes and I've had a gun pointed to my brain,
I've been in the heart of a volcano and I've swam among killers,
I’ve hated my body and I’ve repented countless times for horrible things,
Life has been great but I can’t help but to pray for the day I will see your face.
Life is like a box of chocolate, you never know what you’re ganna get.
Looking back one could defiantly say that about my life,
I’ve left best friends behind and I’ve moved well over five times
I've had my share of heart breaks and I’ve have my share of wasted days,
I've faltered in the Darkness and I've danced in the bright Light,
I've soared over fences and ridden peaks of waves,
I've seen my life before my eyes and I've had a gun pointed to my brain,
I've been in the heart of a volcano and I've swam among killers,
I’ve hated my body and I’ve repented countless times for horrible things,
Life has been great but I can’t help but to pray for the day I will see your face.
Free Verse Poem
You are my brother.
You have been there when no one else was.
You are the reason I am the free-spirited girl I have become.
You were my father when I needed a leader and counselor.
You were my mother when I needed a meal and a shoulder to cry on.
You are my role model when I am in a sticky situation.
You are the person that I compare men to see if they are truly eligible.
You are one of the few people that I can say has never let me down.
You have been there when no one else was.
You are the reason I am the free-spirited girl I have become.
You were my father when I needed a leader and counselor.
You were my mother when I needed a meal and a shoulder to cry on.
You are my role model when I am in a sticky situation.
You are the person that I compare men to see if they are truly eligible.
You are one of the few people that I can say has never let me down.
Free Verse Poem
Class '09
We have grown together as individual parts to one whole for four years.
We have been there to see each other during the awkward phases.
We have laughed, cried and matured together.
Growing closer to some, and drifting from others,
we approach graduation day with a conflict of emotions.
Some are excited to let this all go,
while others are dreading the inevitable goodbyes.
Ready or not graduation approaches,
And everything will be changed forever.
No longer will we be creating new memories,
and when we are together we can talk about is the past.
We have grown together as individual parts to one whole for four years.
We have been there to see each other during the awkward phases.
We have laughed, cried and matured together.
Growing closer to some, and drifting from others,
we approach graduation day with a conflict of emotions.
Some are excited to let this all go,
while others are dreading the inevitable goodbyes.
Ready or not graduation approaches,
And everything will be changed forever.
No longer will we be creating new memories,
and when we are together we can talk about is the past.
You
You walked right into my life when I least expected it
You helped me get back on my feet
You understood me when no one else did
You had your own issues yet you helped me through mine
You have no idea how much that meant to me
You were my friend and confidant
You've changed my life
I wish things were different that I could thank you
But you've exited my life before I had the chance
You walked away to fast; it feels like a hit and run
You left me completly alone, with just those precious few memories
Now what am I to do?
Who can I talk to now that you're gone?
I can't talk to anyone else but You.
How could You do this to me?
You helped me get back on my feet
You understood me when no one else did
You had your own issues yet you helped me through mine
You have no idea how much that meant to me
You were my friend and confidant
You've changed my life
I wish things were different that I could thank you
But you've exited my life before I had the chance
You walked away to fast; it feels like a hit and run
You left me completly alone, with just those precious few memories
Now what am I to do?
Who can I talk to now that you're gone?
I can't talk to anyone else but You.
How could You do this to me?
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