Patience Analysis

Mr. Payne’s testimony contrasted all the points that Ann Eggley and Patience Kershaw made in their testimonies. Payne first said that children started work at age 8, yet Eggley began work at age 7. Payne said that the children worked for 6-7 hours per day, yet Eggley worked 12 hours constantly, starting at 4am; except on Saturdays. Kershaw worked 12 hours also, starting at 5am. Payne believed that “‘[the children were] not ill-used or worked beyond their strength’”, yet Eggley said “‘the work is far too hard for me; the sweat runs off me all over sometimes’”. Patience “‘[hurried 11] corves a mile and more under ground and back; they weigh 300 cwt,’” which is

Two days before my senior year, I was involved in a car accident. I was in absolute shock; I couldn’t believe what just happened. A man turned into the wrong lane and hit us head on. I thought about what happened in total disbelief and realized I could have died due to the actions of a negligent driver. I jumped out of the passenger side of the car and screamed. After I calmed down, I asked myself what my name, address and phone number was to make sure I knew who and where I was. My mom got out of the car and I saw her arm covered in glass and blood. I then saw my sister in the backseat screaming and crying. It felt horrible witnessing them going through this traumatic experience.

There are many consequences of not having patience, one of them you could jump to conclusions about anything and hurt someone’s feelings, due to the lack of knowledge mastering patience as a skill.

I went to my living room to ask my mom a question, to see she wasn’t there. I asked my brother “where’s mom?” and he replied with “shes at the hospital, grandpa got burnt.” I would never have expected “grandpa got burnt” to be as severe as it was. I remember my mom coming home around two in the morning. I got up and out of bed to ask some questions. She said “I don’t wanna talk about it right now. Pack some stuff up, we’re going to Waterloo tomorrow.” So I listened and packed up a bag.

An ambulance came and carried out my mom. I didn’t know what was going on, so many questions running through my mind, what was wrong with her, was she going to be ok. I was scared, more scared then I had ever been. My sister Sheridan who was 8 asked me “what’s happening?” through tears. On that day a little piece of me began to change because if I let her see my fear that would not help anyone, and so even though I didn’t know what was happening I responded “everything is going to be ok” even though I did not trust my own words.

One summer day getting off the school bus running home, excited about going outside; couldn’t wait to go play with my friends when I walked through the door and there was my Aunt Liz. Standing there with tears in her eyes, in extreme amount of pain. I was scared, didn’t know what to do or who to call. Do I called, Mom or 911? After calling my mother then 911, I knew I had to help my Aunt Liz, bring you into the world. No one around, no one to ask for help, only Liz and I. My panic turn into a brave teenager who needed to help her

American politics has proved to be flawed in structure over, and over again. Although our founding fathers had the best intentions when they implemented democracy, they like most modern day politicians, failed to actually make things better. Yes we gained our Independence, but with the ability to make our own choices we tend to make childish and impulsive decisions. The election of Donald Trump stands to be the most recent of those mistakes, and the politicians who work for him are either blinded or full of regret. Poets Lawrence Ferlinghetti and Robert Lowell paint vivid pictures of these very mistakes that seem to recur with the thought of democracy.

When the doctor finally did come in he had this syringe with deadening stuff in it. Dad-being the caring person that he is-told the doctor that I’m not a fan of needles, so the doctor brought a cream to put around my cut so when he deadened my knee with the shot, I wouldn’t feel anything. After he numbed it, he sewed it up. I believe I had eight stitches put on my knee.

Have you ever walked down that white tile floor that reeked of bleach, with a bouquet of roses and daisies, all tied into one? Well, I have. My brother was in a small hospital room for a little over a week, trying to recover from a car accident with a minor concussion. I remember standing close by my dad as we went into the huge elevator filled with people. I slowly made my way to the far right corner and waited till our stop. As the elevator ringed, we snuck out of the crowd of people and turned the corner. I knocked on the door. The door slowly squeaked opened with a nurse on the other end. I look over to the bed; my brother had needles and wires stuck into him like a pincushion. But yet, he still managed to get some sleep. I set the box of chocolates on the table beside him, and then set my own self onto the small, unpleasing couch. Trying to get comfortable, I

It was a gloomy afternoon in Athens, Ohio. It was just raining, and the roads were still shimmering with the cold heavy rain drops. I was walking home from the grocery store. I always have to pass the Insane Asylum. Not only the people who are kept there are Insane, but the people who work there are too. As I was walking I met one of my coworkers.

It's Friday, March 25 in the morning at about 7:00 am when my mom wakes all of us up to get ready to leave. On the way to Minnesota we were driving, but still in suamico, we stopped at a Kwik Trip gas station to fill up the tank. We all were thirsty so we got a water from the cooler in the back of the truck, but my brother Roy spilled his all over himself and on the seats.”Good thing it's just water.” My mom said. As we drove across the imaginary line splitting Wisconsin with Minnesota there was a big rock carved into the shape of Minnesota that said, “Welcome To Minnesota.” When we were on the highway we almost got into two major accidents, the first one was when we had an open lane ahead the driver to the right of us tried coming into our lane right next to us and put our left two tires

In 2001, while I was a freshman in high school, a horrific tragedy occurred to our nation. As I sat in my seat in my drama class awaiting instructions from our teacher, the room was eerily silent. Before my teacher even had a moment to speak, the phone on the wall rang, everyone in our class knew something was going on because the phone never rang, in fact we all thought it was relic of the past. Staring intently as my teacher spoke to the person on the other line, I will never forget the array of emotions that reflected in her eyes. As she hung up the phone, she just stared at us all, not knowing what to think my mind began to contemplate what exactly was going on.

The day of January 15, 2014, was a day that crushed many people including myself. As school got out, my parents picked me up, but something was odd with both of them. I asked what was going on, and my mom told me the news that sent a chill down my spine. I was told that my Uncle Adam had been shot and passed away that morning. I thought it was some cruel joke at first and did not believe a word of it, but my mom continued to tell me she was flying out to Washington to be there with streams of tears down her face. It finally hit me, and it took every bit of strength not to start breaking down. This was also the week before we had midterms and because of this, I was not able to go to Washington to attend my Uncles funeral. This was the first death of someone close to me I have ever had to deal with.

I woke up at eight in the morning, being that it was May and spring was in the air I knew that my day would be perfect. As I leaped out of my warm and comfortable bed to put on my Bullwinkle slippers, my stomach nerves began to tighten. I figured it was just a small bellyache and I would get over it soon. I walked slowly to the bathroom not really realizing that the house was not filled with sunshine as it usually is during these beautiful spring days. As I began to brush my teeth my eyes caught a glimpse of the window that I now noticed was so close to the mirror. I could have died when I noticed that the rain was coming down like a storm. It was at that moment that I ran to mother’s room to tell her that I couldn’t go driving today. My

February twenty-third 2010 was just a regular ordinary day. I was on my way to class on this cold February afternoon, when my phone rung. It was my cousin on the other end telling me to call my mom. I could not figure out what was wrong, so I quickly said okay and I hung up and called my mom. When my mom answered the phone I told her the message but I said I do not know what is wrong. My mom was at work and could not call right away, so I took the effort to call my cousin back to see what was going on. She told me that our uncle was in the hospital and that it did not look good. Starting to tear up I pull over in a fast food restaurant parking lot to listen to more to what my cousin had to say. She then tells me to tell my mom to get to