Getting to Know Mary Harris Mother Jones - 878 Words

1. Who was Mother Jones? Mother Jones was a person that loved to help people get better jobs (Mintz and McNeil), so she devoted her life to help the working class (Horton 10). â€Å"The working people whose rights she fought for loved her† (Horton 12). This shows that the people who she helped appreciated the work she was doing to make their lives better. She was present in many different worker strikes, like coal strikes, steel strikes and cotton mill strikes (Mintz and McNeil). She campaigned all day, every day for workers all over the country. Mother Jones first got a firsthand look at child labor when she traveled through Alabama. She got a job at a mill and saw little girls and boys as young as six years old doing dangerous jobs that could seriously hurt them. The little kids got paid 10 cents a day for working from 5:30 a.m. until dark (Kraft 54) She was also was an active supporter in legislation against child labor (â€Å"Mother Jones†) Mother Jones looks were very deceiving. People des cribed her as looking like a grandmother, barely five feet with snow white hair, and genuinely sweet looking. She used to wear elegant Victorian dresses with lace and a bonnet with flowers, usually violets, tucked in (Horton11). But then they heard one of her speeches and they were surprised. She spoke with strength and fiery language, which was covered in profanities (Kraft 2). Mother Jones had a very good personality. She was loyal to her work and so determined that nothing could stop herShow MoreRelatedSwitching to a Year-Round School Calendar Essay1092 Words   |  5 Pages In the United States, most schools still use a ten-month calendar that was developed when our country’s students needed school off to help with harvesting (Palmer). Trimble Local Schools Superintendent Kim Jones says, â€Å"year-round schooling is the notion of getting away from the old agrarian calendar...which was formed up around the planting season. 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Love has to look like something Free Essays

As for my opinion, most of the people know will say that love is an action. And for me it it’s the most appropriate meaning then for me. Love can be felt, yes love but love is also the action you need to do to show reciprocity to what others show to you or has done for you. We will write a custom essay sample on Love has to look like something or any similar topic only for you Order Now As to Mr.. Dye, love started from loneliness, but as for what I have been taught. Love comes from God. And because he loves us first, we are able to love him back and his example of love has been our model as to how should we love others. According to Mr.. Dye, loneliness started the experience of being love. I know I ant question him right there because every individual has his own say but as for me, it isn’t. Because love is the most beautiful thing that God has given us. Because without his love, we are maybe not here anymore. But I know some will tell me that because of love u became broke. But we can only be victorious because of Jesus. Although we have different backgrounds and different time frames with Jesus, one thing that we find that remains the same is God’s love for us. His love never changes, His love remains the same, and His love never fails. So if you feel like someone betrayed you, why not eve him first. Sometimes love can be taken for granted and the word used over and over. For example, you might say, â€Å"l love my car, or I love the smell, or love ice cream. In our minds though, love has to look like something. But when the words â€Å"l love you† come to mind, we become scared of it because of our past. Maybe someone you loved left you and so you want to guard your heart and don’t really want to believe those words anymore. What then is God’s definition of love? In 1 Corinthians 13:4-8 it says that, â€Å"love is long suffering† (patient). That’s the first definition. The second is, â€Å"Love is kind. † Then continuing it says, â€Å"Love does not envy, does not parade itself, is not puffed up, does not behave rudely, does not seek its own, is not provoked, thinks no evil, does not rejoice in inequity but rejoices in the truth, bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things, and love never fails. † I might emphasized the words LOVE NEVER FAILS. Yes, true love, it does not fails. So you’re probably thinking then now that why that many relationships has to be end, and families come to be ruined, say, it is cause they don’t have the right foundation of love. I have read this note which I rephrased that â€Å"most of the reasons why we commit mistakes and doomed ourselves, is because we were not willing to wait, that we were not been patient. It might be true right. Because according to statistics, each year, the number of teenage pregnancies are rampantly going higher each time, many relationships has been broken because they were not patient to each other. And according to the bible, the very first definition is â€Å"long-suffering†. Jesus is a perfect example of that love, he has suffered a lot of insults, he has en accused of many things and yet he has given us patience just so we can see his purpose here unto this earth. He suffered and bore all the pain because he loves us and he doesn’t want us to be lost again and because he knows that through him, we can be redeemed and we can be accepted as God’s children again.. Love should not be over busy with other things. In Luke Chapter 10 -it is when Jesus visited Mary and Martha household. Martha was so concerned with the things that had to be done so she asked Jesus to send Mary to help her. But Jesus said to her that Mary chose the good part by listening to His words, and t shall not be taken away from her. In the Bible, Paul says that we must rely on what Christ Jesus has done for us and not on our own human efforts; because our human efforts, our achievements, and our possessions are simply garbage when comparing to what we have In Jesus. There are times when we don’t understand what is happening in our lives. We feel, we hope, we trust, we get let down, and we get burned. But God in His sovereignty says to you who are spiritually mature to keep pressing on. He has something better for you but you need to go through this in order to obtain it. That’s the race you’re on. When you get there you will understand. But in the process, love has to look like something. Otherwise, who will the unsaved look for in love? How are they going to know what love is? Thus, we need to be the light to show the world what love looks like. In 1 Core. 14:1 it says, â€Å"Eagerly pursue and seek to acquire his love. † Furthermore, the Bible says in John 15:2 to be glad that, â€Å"He cuts off every branch in me that bears no fruit while every branch that does bear fruit he prunes so that it will be even more fruitful. † This just means that we should row the thing that brings out the best in us and prune those we think that will put us into ruin. Love cannot be over busy. One day I remember God talk to me and he revealed something to me, some people think that they are unworthy, they are dirty, they were ashamed to approach people because they were afraid that you’ll goanna judge the, most of this people felt unloved and so, that is why, our love shouldn’t be busy overlooking into things that it felt like weave filled them with much attention already, there are lots of people who needs to be love. And because I am filled with love by God and by the people rounds me, why not share my love to this people. Why not share a glimpse of how God filled you with much enthusiasm and joy in your heart. They were all just like us, Jesus came to the world so he could love everyone, and when he went up to heaven, he has given us the authority to love his people. Just by merely talking to them could give them a hint how much loved you’re filled with. Because when they can see the passion that resides in you, they will then reflect the light you’ve given them. John 15:4-5 says, â€Å"Remain in me, and I will remain in you for a branch cannot reduce fruit if it is severed from the vine. And you cannot be fruitful unless you remain in me. Yes, I am the vine. You are the branches. Those who remain in me and in them will produce much fruit for apart from me, you can do nothing. † All the energies we have when we’re investing in the Lord, sitting at His feet, don’t know how many times we continuously say devotions, devotions, devotions. We sit at His feet, listen to His voice, but don’t you close the book and say that we’re done. Devotions begin our time with the Lord, but it doesn’t end when we close the book. He says for you to look like love in this hurting world. How to cite Love has to look like something, Papers

The Last Night free essay sample

Just like any normal school night, I was in my kitchen watching cartoons eating my dinner. I was sitting as close to the TV as I could with my chair pulled up to the countertop. My father had recently gotten his gallbladder out and was still having problems so he was at the doctors getting more tests done. As I was finishing up my dinner, the front door swung open and in walked my parents. Looking at the expressions on their faces, I could tell that there was something terribly wrong. â€Å"Will you go get your brothers and meet us in our bedroom?† my mother asked me kindly with sorrow in her voice. I carefully got out of my chair and headed down the stairs where my two brothers were playing video games. They were sitting on the couch together laughing and yelling at one another playfully. After I finished telling them what was going on, we climbed the stairs in fear for what we were about to be told. None of us wanting to speak what was on our mind; we stayed silent and walked through their bedroom door. We sat there on their new bedspread they had purchased earlier in the week, still stiff from not being washed yet. We sat in silence for what seemed like hours. Scanning the freshly maroon painted room for something I could put my focus on instead of the teary eyes of my parent, my eyes landed on a picture hung up on the wall over their bed. It was a picture of the Latter Day Saint prophet Thomas S. Monson and all of the apostles; they were wearing white colored suits in a beautiful temple. Some were standing and some were sitting, smiling at what I could only imagine was the camera. The room they were in was a beautiful baptistery, pure and white. I was sitting there thinking about what it would be like to personally meet them when my father’s voice broke my trance. Once he finished talking, I looked at my mother as tears stung in my eyes, â€Å"Is it true?† I asked her. â€Å"Does dad really have cancer?† As she nodded her head silently I could hardly breathe—the room began to spin and I felt like I was going to be sick. I stood up and rushed out of the room, running through my bedroom door and slammed it shut. Trying to block out the sound of my parents still talking to my two brothers, my hands flew to my head where they were placed over my ears. I suddenly went weak and I felt like I might faint right then and there. My knees buckled out from underneath me and I fell to the floor. I cried out in despair as I prayed to my Heavenly Father, begging him to please help my family and to help my father. Being angry with God and angry with the world, I got up from my knees and in an outbreak of rage began throwing things at the wall. Everything that was in sight I grabbed and threw across the room; my school text books, a pictu re frame, pillows, my lamp. With every swift throw, the items crashed into the wall and were destroyed. Carefully picking up the pieces of the picture frame that had shattered against the wall; I stared at the photograph that had been inside. It was a picture of my family, sitting together in a grassy field, with great big smile on our faces. Looking at it I felt a piercing pain in my heart. How did it so quickly go from a happy family with no problems to a family that’s falling apart? I felt like I was in a dreaming, I was in a nightmare and I wanted to wake up. He was in and out of the hospital weekly, having tests and chemotherapy done. For every week that passed, he began to look more frail and fragile. The drugs seemed to be making things worse for him, not helping. He would come home, appointment after appointment, with an anguished look on his face and pain in his eyes. I couldn’t take it anymore, so I began avoiding him. I couldn’t handle looking into t hose dark eyes of his and seeing the pain in them, knowing that there was nothing I could do to help set him free from his affliction. Looking back on those days, I wish I had reacted differently. I wish I had taken more time to talk to him, had told him I loved him more often, and spent a little more time with him. Instead, I had avoided him in the house, staying in my bedroom or even staying out late with friends just to escape looking into those troubled and sorrowful eyes. It was the night before Christmas Eve, and it was my turn to look after my father. Every day that week my family had been taking turns watching over him through the night and giving him his pain medications. Earlier in the evening we had celebrated Christmas together. That morning my parents had gone to the doctors and were told that it would be wise to celebrate early. â€Å"Just in case,† had been the nurses’ words. I looked over and saw him wincing with pain. He was trying not to make any sound, for fear he’d wake me. Little did he know, I’d been awake all night watching him; trying to memorize every feature on his face. He had dark olive skin, chocolate brown eyes, thick dark eyebrows, and a smile that could melt anyone with just one look. I didn’t want to forget anything. I couldn’t let myself fall asleep or even close my eyes, for fear that he’d leave me. I sat up as I asked him, â€Å"Do you need more morphine, dad?† He nodded his head yes. Carefully climbing off of the couch, trying not to disturb him, I grabbed the medicine off of the coffee table in front of me. With shaky hands I placed the drops in his mouth. My eyes heavy with tears, I sat there and watched him. He’s in so much pain. Why him? Why would God choose him? This wasn’t okay with me. My dad was my best friend—I told him everything. Without him, who was I going to go to when I was upset or was having problems with friends or at school? Suddenly, there was a noise coming from my father. I looked over to see him fiddling with his fingers, almost as if he were pressing buttons on a small device. His eyes suddenly flew open and he looked straight at me, â€Å"Sorry.† He exclaimed once he saw the scared expression on my face. â€Å"I thought I was texting Colbie.† (Colbie is my sister. She was living away from home but had come to visit after hearing the inevitable of his death.) Oh no, I thought, it’s too soon. They told us he had another month. How can he already be acting this way? â€Å"It’s okay dad, don’t worry about me. Can I get you anything else?† â€Å"I’m okay sweetheart, but thank you,† he replied. Through the night I lay there trying to cover up the hurt and struggle I felt with this situation of his impending death. It was so hard to just sit there are watch him literally wasting away. I wanted my father to think that I wasn’t scared. I wanted to be strong for him; I needed to be strong for him. â€Å"Dad,† I said quietly. â€Å"Are you scared?† He looked deep into my eyes as they began to fill with tears yet again. â€Å"Yes sweetheart, I’m scared. But not for the reasons you would think.† I looked at him questioningly as he continued, â€Å"I’m scared for you, and for you mother, and for everyone else. I get to go to a better place where there is no sadness, while you guys have to stay here on this earth and go through more trials and tribulations. I’m not scared to die, I’m ready.† He began to smile, â€Å"bring it on.† he said jokingly. With tears streaming down my face I sat up and looked at him. I grew profoundly angry with him as he spoke those words to me. How could he say that? How could he just give up on life? â€Å"Don’t you dare say that, dad. Don’t you dare! How can you say that to me? How can you just give up? I don’t want to live without you; I can’t live without you. What am I supposed to do when I graduate? I want you to be there sitting in the crowd with mom, cheering for me as I get my diploma. I want you there in the temple with me when I get married to the love of my life. I want to have my daddy-daughter dance at my wedding like every other girl out there. What about when I have kids? They will grow up not knowing their own grandfather. Please, please don’t give up on me. Don’t give up on us,† I cried out. I lay there sobbing uncontrollably as he rubbed my back trying to comfort me. The roles had switched. Instead of me taking care of him, he was t aking care of me. â€Å"Ali?† he whispered, eyes glistening. â€Å"When you graduate, just have your mother save me a seat and I promise I will be there watching you, cheering you on. When you get married to your sweetheart, I will be there in the Celestial Room with a smile on my face, as proud as ever. When you have children of your own, I will be there to look after them. I will be their guardian angel. Ali, I will always be with you.† Hours later, the time had finally come. Sitting together as a family, watching him in his last moment of life, it seemed so surreal. Every few minutes his eyes would wander around the room, as if her were searching for something. I tried to focus on what was happening so suddenly. I was curled up on the chair next to the couch watching. I was numb, stunned, and unsure of how I was supposed to react. These things only happen in movies. I don’t know what I am supposed to do, how I am supposed to feel or even react? My older sister and my two brot hers were in front of the couch, crouched down by my father. He looked like he was in such pain and agony as he began to struggle for air. Swiftly but reverently, my brother, Sam, took my father’s hand in his and choking back tears he whispered, â€Å"Dad, it’s okay. Just go.† My father then took one last look around the room, and took his final breath. The sound he made before that last breath will be with me for the rest of my life. To this day, I can still hear it; exactly as it sounded. Over the few months prior to my father’s death and the months that have passed since the incident, my family has become closer than ever. Turning to God, we all grew in the gospel. Sure, it was a struggle and a testimony shaker, but in the end it only grew stronger. I know that my Daddy is in a better place, with his own father and his Father in Heaven; all of them looking down on my family and I, watching over us. We have all grown in the experience and have come out of his better and stronger. To this day I still miss him and I always will. It will never be the same in my household without him, but now I have another angel on my team, watching me, looking out for me, carrying me, every single step of the way.