do you have more desscripition about this assigment you can post? or is this all
Answer:
It is in a nook on Christmas Eve, where the Little Match Girl was selling matches, and was afraid to go home to a father who beats, so she stays in a nook to warm up, and visualize what type of life she wanted, and where she imagines her grandmother.
Explanation:
This is the correct answer to this question.
Hope this helps!!!
Kyle.
I literally just found this on google but it helps lol
A veil is an article of clothing or hanging cloth that is intended to cover some part of the head or face, or an object of some significance. Veiling has a long history in European, Asian, and African societies. The practice has been prominent in different forms in Judaism, Christianity, and Islam.
Hope that helps :)
Answer: Negatively
Explanation: Rodriguez defines it as a way that communities get separated, such as the instances where he feels that his family is isolated from the English speakers in his neighborhood, and how the other kids will stare at him and not interact. Positively, it is a way to bring people together of similar languages. He and his family have fun, laughing together, when they are home, because that is a place where they are free to speak Spanish to one another, free from judgement.
Answer:
“Irene never bothered anyone. Once the morning housework was finished, she spent the rest of the day on the sofa in her bedroom, knitting. I couldn’t tell you why she knitted so much; I think women knit when they discover that it’s a fat excuse to do nothing at all. But Irene was not like that, she always knitted necessities, sweaters for winter, socks for me, handy morning robes and bed jackets for herself. Sometimes she would do a jacket, then unravel it the next moment because there was something that didn’t please her; it was pleasant to see a pile of tangled wool in her knitting basket fighting a losing battle for a few hours to retain its shape. Saturdays I went downtown to buy wool; Irene had faith in my good taste, was pleased with the colors and never a had to be returned. I took advantage of these trips to make the rounds of the bookstores, uselessly asking if they had anything new in French literature. Nothing worthwhile had arrived in Argentina since 1939. But it’s the house I want to talk about, the house and Irene, I’m not very important. I wonder what Irene would have done without her knitting. One can reread a book, but once a pullover is finished you can’t do it over again, it’s some kind of disgrace. One day I found that the drawer at the bottom of the chiffonier, replete with mothballs, was filled with shawls, white, green, lilac. Stacked amid a great smell of camphor —it was like a shop; I didn’t have the nerve to ask her what she planned to do with them. We didn’t have to earn our living, there was plenty coming in from the farms each month, even piling up. But Irene was only interested in the knitting and showed a wonderful dexterity, and for me the hours slipped away watching her, her hands like silver sea urchins, needles flashing, and one or two knitting baskets on the floor, the balls of yarn jumping about.It was lovely
Explanation:
