One cold winter day in November, my friend Theresa and I were fast asleep in the back seat of a silver Dodge Durango awaiting the time when we could awake to the sights of the New York skyline. It was a monotonous nine hour trip from the scanty town of Hertford, and we were both dressed for total comfort. With Theresa in her black pajamas that were two sizes too big and me in my blue pajamas and pig-tails, we slept for a surprising five-and-a-half hours. When we finally rose from the dead, we were stopped at a gas station.
This is where my so-called “southern hospitality” began to fly right out the window. As I walked toward the entrance to the restroom, I noticed an elderly woman with a walker who appeared to need some assistance with the door. This nameless woman, who wore a pink scarf around her head to block the wind and cold, was approximately seventy years old with white hair. I smiled shyly and held the door for her, but to my amazement, it seemed as if twenty other people took advantage of my kindness and walked in.
I eventually let go of the door but was scorned by a short, middle-aged brunette with glasses. At that moment, I knew that this blond North Carolina girl was going to have to change her ways in order to make it in this big city. After my first interaction with the typical “northern,” we traveled the remaining three-and-a-half hours to our destination in New Jersey. Theresa’s uncle and aunt lived in a quiet and friendly neighborhood. There were large trees although all the orange, rust, and brown leaves had already fallen to the ground. Uncle Joe, as I quickly learned to call him, led us to our room for the stay.
The Term Paper on Mother Theresa Lily Mom Room
... such innocence that it brought tears to Theresa's eyes. Theresa nodded her head vigorously, reconsidered her answer ... and you have always been the perfect daughter." Theresa stopped talking and sank back into her pillows, ... you" Anthony greeted his daughter at the elevator doors. His face was filled with sadness, but relief ... she's been asking for you for the past hour or so. I don't think she wants to ...
Theresa and I shared a comfortable queen size bed with soft blue sheets and blankets. By the time we got settled in, it was one o’clock, and Theresa’s mother, Barbara, decided it was time for us to hit the sack. All together I believe I got an exhilarating three hours of sleep. I have yet to determine why my tired eyes would not let my exhausted body rest.
Maybe it was because there was so much excitement awaiting us the next morning. The next day we were off to the city. As I walked down the bustling sidewalks of Manhattan, all I could do was stare in amazement. My eyes were so fixated on the towering buildings, lights, and swarms of people that I was not paying attention to walking and began to be pushed down the path. Not pushed in a sense of animosity, but it was like I was a piece of driftwood being propelled to the shore by the current. Down the street about a block farther was the notorious Radio City Music Hall.
We were forced to stand in a river of people, flowing as far as the next block, for a grueling two hours. As we crept closer towards the door a security guard approached us and demanded to search our baggage and coats. He appeared to be stern and had a strong pointy chin. Shortly after, I found myself inside the picturesque Music Hall. The show was entitled “Christmas Spectacular,” and it undoubtedly lived up to its name. There was Santa Claus, dancing bears, three dimensional effects, colorful costumes, The Rocket tes, and ice skating, and over the whole scene, the lights moved about consistently, enriching the show every moment with new marvels of color.
I sat like one enraptured. I was speechless and absorbed it all. This was a totally new world to me, and I knew that there were no means of me observing anything like this at home. We all returned to Uncle Joe’s in order to help shop for the remaining ingredients for Thanksgiving dinner the next day.
Theresa and I went to bed early in order to wake up at three o’clock in the morning to get an ideal spot to observe the parade. We both made sure that we dressed very warmly for the frigid weather in New York. I bundled up with two pairs of pants, three pairs of socks, four shirts, a coat, scarf, gloves, hat, and an abundance of blankets. We sat very patiently for an hour in the cold to see the magnificent balloons, extravagant floats and smiling celebrities of the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade. Just as we were about to give in to the destructive weather, Santa and his reindeer came gliding down the street. After about four hours in the horrendous cold, we rushed toward the car in hopes of beating the traffic on the New Jersey Turnpike en route to Uncle Joe’s.
The Term Paper on The Relationship Between The Individual And Work And Family Has
The relationship between the individual and work and family has changed dramatically over the years. Jobs and families both demand enormous commitments of time and energy, especially during peak years of family formation and career growth. Today, jobs usually consume a third of a persons day. Americans put more hours in at work to support their families, creating more stress at home, which results ...
Theresa and I put out the Thanksgiving china with brown hand-painted turkeys on the table. As we ate our delicious turkey, mashed potatoes, stuffing, green beans, sweet potatoes, and pumpkin pie, we each said something that we were thankful for. After the wonderfully prepared meal, we all sat in front of the big screen television, as most families do, and watched every football game that was televised. That night we did not stay up very late. I was uncommonly welcomed into their family and was overwhelmed by happiness yet despondency for being apart from my own family on this distinctive holiday. Although in the city I became familiar with the stereotypical “northerner”, I will never forget the kindness given to me while I stayed in Uncle Joe’s home.
In my opinion, it does not matter whether you are in your own home, New York, or Paris, being with family or friends at a specific time makes it special. I am very grateful to have shared my southern hospitality and accent as well as my Thanksgiving with Theresa and her family.
