Mandie Morin: A Short Story

I hear something in the distance, I grab Jackie’s hand and hide behind a tree. We both peek our heads out on the sides, curious and scared on who or what we are about to see. Two horses trott by, pulling a stagecoach. I gasp when I see the people inside.

The Shack Jennifer Narciso College of Saint Elizabeth’s   Table of Contents The Shack introduction Abstract The home The Campground The search

Having to withstand the eagerness to just accept the money and clothes that are offered to us each day is mighty difficult. Yet, my family pays no mind to it, for we only take what we can return. Climbing up those crumbling, old brick stairs I make sure to keep outta’ sight of that bossy Scout

I kneel down examining what looked like a secret door of sorts. “There is no way I’m opening that,” I think as I slowly lifted myself up from my crouching position and bump into something. But wait, it’s not something, it’s someone! I spin around and feel cold hands grab my wrists. I’ve never screamed louder in my life.

Stay for More or Leave from Sore As I sit in my cabin freezing cold, scared, and hungry, myself wonders, “Is there still any hope”? The huts were long and wide made of wood. The fireplace was filling the huts with smoke that we almost could not handle. There were no beds just the mud floor covered with straw. My service to the army at Valley Forge is soon ending.

However, this time the future owners would be joining me. Since my last visit, the house has come a long way with the addition of plumbing and electric. At the end of the day, the couple who would be residing in the house thanked us greatly for the work we had contributed. A complete group of strangers worked several hours not only to give this family a home, but also to give them hope. Hope is the greatest thing you can give to a community, and, watching as this family thanked us, I realized that we had lit a spark of hope within those who need it

"Go to your page, he is my friend. Rick what are you doing here... it's the middle of night." Melinda says dismissing her. "I heard about the crash and I needed to check on you.

We both ran to them and gave them a never ending hug. “I am so glad to see you!” I said crying. “We have been so worried, we thought we lost you both,” she said in a sad sob. Even Dad looked like he was crying.

The gritty sand and dirt swirled around me and into my mouth as I crunched through the dry Idaho desert. It was a slightly breezy day, and the wind played with my messy ponytail. I felt excitement and anxiousness as I walked toward the old timey gallows. Beyond the gallows was a hotel, a jail, and some other buildings I couldn’t identify. My dad led the way as we moved from the parking area to the shooters.

These stories demonstrate how the prisoners adapted their ways of thinking in order to ensure the survival of themselves and their friends. Survival techniques included doing anything in order to be seen as useful around the camp, using humor, and focusing one’s thoughts on love. Frankl describes how he and other prisoners used these techniques

Furthermore, Sarnowski acknowledges mother’s disappointment as Maggie gives up the quilts, pointing out that they represent memories of family members. The author believes that displaying these quilts will disintegrate the sense of family history they carry. Consequently,

I will never forget that encounter the intense sun, the endless horizon, the infinite shades of blue that dissolved any boundary between sky and trees. The views were like swimming into a kaleidoscope, deceptively plain "Lake Winaukee" sign on the outside, but a show of colors on the inside, waiting to shock and, mesmerize me. Those colors! Sails on the horizon covered the lake; streaks of sunlight illuminated them, the swaying wildlife creating a dance of rhythm. Beautiful, preserved life synchronizing every movement with the camp sight creating one living entity.

He spoke with joy, remembering her and the person she was. Each one of us joined in, slowly rising from our seats, also sharing memories of my grandmother, their mother, his sister, her friend. Tender tears rolled off our cheeks and small smiles stretched across our

In the short story, “Everyday Use,” Alice Walker creates a conflict between Maggie and Dee for the belongings made by their relatives whether they should be kept to use in their house or kept to admire as antiques with Dee to last longer. Walker made items to have symbolism to be used as an everyday thing, but with Dee returning from college she believes she should keep items from being demolished and placed as an item in a museum for observation of her heritage. Walker in the story shows how Maggie and her mother use the quilt as a tradition that has been passed down by every generation in their family by putting them to use. The mother’s purpose towards the quilt is to pass it down by teaching how to quilt so that it could be quilted if

I screamed. I screamed, “STRANGER DANGER STRANGER DANGER!” [As I was running up the stairs I realized it was my dad]. I close the door as tight as I could and, held it with all my might.