Exciting, Organized, or Dull?

None of those words describe my life. Now I bet you might try to combat that with reminding me that the question was, "Which word best describes your life..." nonetheless I must inform you that all three words equally do not describe my life. I have no one word to describe my life. It is what it is. I believe that everything happens for a reason. I make my own decisions, my life is my choice. I do with it what I please. I believe life has so much to offer me that I haven't even begun to grasp yet. I am thankful for my life, because even though I've definitely been through some rather difficult times and my strength and will power have been strained and tested, I have a loving and supportive family and amazing opportunities ahead of me. And I also have my brain. I am glad that I am able to realize that if I want something to change, I must change it myself.  It's so incredibly frustrating and agonizing for me to see people going through hard times and waiting for their fairy godmother to come and "bibbity-bobbity-boo" all their problems away; I hate to sit and watch people destroy themselves while I [unsuccessfully] try my hardest to get them to realize that they are the only ones who can change it. And thus I am glad that my family and friends don't have to stand helplessly and watch me die when the answer was right in front of me all along. So in conclusion, I'd like to think that my life simply cannot be described in one word, because every second is so different from the one before it that to attach one word to the 473 million seconds (give or take) that I've lived.

The Monkey's Paw

There was a couple and their son. One evening the Sergeant-Major came to their house. He told the family a story of a monkey's paw which granted three wishes to three men and then revealed that he had been the second man and attempted to dispose of the paw by tossing it in the fire, but the father got to it before it burned and disregarding the sergeant's warnings, proceeded to wish for 200 pounds. His wish was granted, but at the cost of their sons life. A time later the wife made the husband wish for their son to be alive again, but before the son could enter the house the man made a final wish and the son was gone.

I think the moral of this story is the obvious: be careful what you wish for because you just might get it.

Cultural Shock

I think the advice that they gave is good because it addresses the problems students might face and tells how to effectively deal with and prevent them.

Genocide

Based on my prior knowledge genocide is the act of killing a large group of people solely bases on elements such as ethnicity, and religious or political views.  As defined by the Merriam Webster Dictionary: "Genocide is the deliberate and systematic destruction of a racial, political, or cultural group."

The obvious example of genocide in history would be The Holocaust, but like I said, that would be obvious. But what I'm going to tell you about decimated more than twice that of The Holocaust. Mao Ze-Dong, founder and Chairman of the Chinese Communist Party (CCP); whose intention was to invoke socialism in China; they aimed to do that by eliminating traditional, capitalist, and cultural elements from the Chinese society, and inflict Maoist orthodoxy within the party. 

The Selfish Giant Summary

The story is about a giant who after a seven year visit with his friend, returns to his garden and scares off the children who had adopted it as their own. Of course, all actions have consequences, the giant would soon learn. Because of the giant's selfishness, spring did not come to his garden, nor did autumn. Finally, the giant realizes that the children are what had kept the garden alive when he awakens to the sweet song of a bird, and peers out his window to see the children, who had snuck in through a hole in the wall he had constructed to keep the garden to himself. There was one little boy who was to small to get in a tree, and that tree was still miserably stuck in winter. But the giant had realized his wrong-doing, and helped the boy into the tree. The giant chopped down the wall, and the children would be allowed to visit the garden whenever they pleased. The giant grew old, and wondered constantly about the little boy, for he had disappeared after that day. Then, one winter day the giant saw the little boy under the tree again and rushed to his side. The little boy had scratches on his hands and feet, which he confided were the wounds of love, before taking the giant to his own garden which he called paradise. That afternoon the children arrived to find the giant dead under the tree that the little boy had once been helped to climb.