Parashah

In the narrative, A Narrative of the Captivity and Restoration of Mrs. Mary Rowlandson, the author Mary Rowlandson, was captured by Indians as known as “barbarous creatures (259). Mary Rowlandson had to witness half of her family be murdered and be separated from her children without any acknowledgement where they could be. During her journey with the Indians, she started to lose hope especially when her one of her children dies, but she knew she could not show too much fear in front of her master and his wife. With not knowing where her other children’s destinations or could eat, she turned to the Bible for encouragement and a backbone of her strength. Throughout the weeks, she found out her son, Joseph, was alive, but she was hesitated to tell him that his sister, Sarah, had died weeks earlier. Joseph revealed to his mother that he saw the other sister, Mary. Mrs. Rowlandson tried to stay on the Indians and master’s good side, so she would not be killed. She started to knit items for the Indians and other people, so she could get food or other important items for survival. Mrs. Rowlandson always read her Bible during the good and bad times, and she believed God still has her alive for a specific purpose, but she knew she had to keep reading the Word for the purpose. She never tried to run away like some Indians tried to talk her into doing, instead, she stated “...I was not willing to run away, but desired to wait God’s time…” (285). After eleven weeks, she could go back…

Agabus Okyere ENG Prof. Dianne Sept. 14, 2016 Formative Experience That Changed Me Everyone living on this planet goes through many experience in their lives. Every experience has an effect on a person in some ways. The outcome of the experience can be good, bad or combination of both. Many features of my life have impacted my nature. One experience that changed me is reading the bible and affects my inner self. I learned how to forgive one…

The only object out of place on my father’s thick oak desk was the Pamela Anderson edition of Playboy. Next to an overgrown stack of tax returns and a leather-cased smartphone, Pamela posed in a strapless, black satin dress that accentuated the curve between her waist and breasts. A fantasy for almost any pubescent twelve year-old. “You want it, Michael?” my father asked, turning his chair towards me. His knowing grin reminded me of when he and I would dress Barbies in matching wedding gowns my…