What are some benefits of exercise

Which of the following is NOT one of the resources available to the poor, according to Scrooge

Masja [62]

C the treadmill is the correct answer

7 0

2 years ago

The poem “One vote” by Aimee Nezhukumatathil

maxonik [38]

Answer:

shshs

Explanation:

i vote each other

8 0

2 years ago

Read 2 more answers

How do we say hello my name is maddie in french?

Nadya [2.5K]

Bonjour mon nom est Maddie!

3 0

3 years ago

Read 2 more answers

How can i transform the phrase "my house is a dump" into a imagery phrase?

andreyandreev [35.5K]

It's not!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

6 0

3 years ago

what evidence in Music for My Mother supports the statement that shows that moving to a new country is hard ?

Katen [24]

Answer:

After dinner my older brother liked to play the guitar. He preferred

the music he heard on the radio, but he played the traditional

songs for Mama. She enjoyed things that reminded her of home.

Her eyes hurt and her fingers would get sore from long hours of

work as a seamstress. I remember washing dishes while Pedrito sang:

“And seeing myself so lonely and sad like a leaf in the wind, I want

to cry . . . from this feeling.”

He sang in Spanish, which is how the lyrics were written. That

song is more than 100 years old now. Mama learned it when she was

a girl.

Papa tried to nudge Mama out of her nostalgia sometimes. He

would answer her in English when she spoke to him in Spanish. His

English was not very good at first, but he worked at it until it got

better.

Mama usually answered him in Spanish. They would go back

and forth in either language, talking about work or homesickness

or family. Pedrito or I would occasionally correct them or help them

finish their sentences in English. Papa would thank us. Mama would

just smile and shake her head. But she always repeated the words we

had helped her with. In time her English got better too, but she was

far more at ease in her native tongue.

I was seven years old when we came to the United States. Pedrito

was 11. Papa was a carpenter who also knew a little about plumbing

and electricity. From an early age, my brother and I learned how to

take care of ourselves in our new home. Our parents worked long

hours, and they counted on us to be independent.

At first we were almost like guides for Mama and Papa. In big

busy places, like the mall or the registry of motor vehicles, they felt

uncomfortable, if not overwhelmed. It was easier for us to adjust

to environments that were fast-paced and not always friendly. I felt

protective of my parents and also proud of how quickly I learned my

way around.

It would hurt my feelings to see the way some people looked at us.

For a while, on Sundays and holidays we would wear our best clothes

from home. Before long, we learned to wear casual clothes almost all

the time, like most people in this country do. And after a while, our

parents became more at ease in stores or government offices. They

relaxed a little, I suppose, and we attracted less attention.

Mama and Papa live with Pedrito now, in a two-family home

outside of Houston. Pedrito is now known as Peter. He runs a

construction business that employs 14 men and women.

Papa is in his seventies now. Pedrito would like for him to

slow down a little and enjoy retirement, but Papa says that Mama

wouldn’t want him sitting around the house getting in her way.

He rises at dawn almost every day and goes to work with Pedrito,

building houses.

I am a teacher. This summer I will be taking my son, Michael, to

visit his grandparents. He is twelve. He wants to learn to play the

guitar. I want Mama and his Uncle Peter to teach him a few of the

good old songs.

4 0

2 years ago