Amber M Martell
Stories (6/0)
STORY OF MY LIFE
My book is a life-long work in progress as is that of every person. I hope it will be long. Some are so short. I know that the last chapter will only be finished at my last breath whenever that takes place. Because my book is still being written, I do not know where it will take me or who I will meet along the way. I do however, know where it has been, though I may not understand why the plot has often twisted so much, why some of the characters have been removed from the plot or why some of them have been villains rather than heroes. I suppose that without a few villains a story would be boring, so I can easily say that my story is and will continue to be a very fascinating tale.
By Amber M Martell4 years ago in Motivation
WAITING FOR THE BOYS
All of us have waited for something or someone at some point in our lives. I am hardly an exception to this rule. I have done quite a bit of waiting in my life. When I was young, I waited for spring, for the pleasant times spent tilling and planting my little garden or pruning my roses. When the planting was over and the garden coming along in growth; when spring suddenly wasn’t hot enough, I waited for summer. And then, when the summer grew too hot, I longed for fall. Soon, I gazed at my idle sled and waited for the snow to come then waited impatiently for the weather to warm once again. I have often waited for the rain to stop. I have waited hungrily for my radishes and beets to be big enough to pull and tomatoes to ripen. I have waited with maternal excitement for chicks to hatch or a calf to be born. I once waited for Daddy to come home from one of his long-haul trucking trips or Mama to come in from doing chores to make dinner and read to us. I used to wait for a baby sibling to wake up from a nap so I didn’t have to stay quiet any longer. In December, I waited for my birthday and then waited eagerly through the following few weeks until Christmas. That childish enthusiasm has only slightly dimmed now that I have grown.
By Amber M Martell4 years ago in Families
A Story of Chairs
Think of the chairs in your life. Did your mom or dad have a favorite chair? Did your Grandparents? I think of my first chair, a diminutive red velvet rocking chair that I named “Redda.” My dad picked it up from a roadside stand during one of his trucking trips and gave it to me shortly after my birth. It went through me as well as four younger siblings and by the end of our childhood most of the dark red velvet was rubbed of the seat and arms. The back came loose twice while my dad was alive. The last time he fixed it, he told me that if it happened again, it was going to the dump. It was a thought that nearly broke my heart. I loved that little chair and had spent many hours in it, playing with toys at the old olive green coffee table, reading Dick and Jane books or listening to records on the old record player. I was very careful with it after that warning and frequently cautioned my younger siblings to treat with care as well.
By Amber M Martell4 years ago in Families
The College Concept and Free Learning
For centuries, humans have been believed in one of two opinions related to education. This essay is centered on those two differing viewpoints. If those staunchly rooted in one camp or the other could agree on a compromise, they could actually come to an accord. I believe that you will understand what I mean by this as you read on.
By Amber M Martell4 years ago in Education
An Orchestra Experience
Imagine this, if you would. You are one of the many ticket-holders for tonight’s orchestra performance. Perhaps you have never been to such an event. You have seen numerous Rock, Hip-hop and/or Country/Western groups perform . . . Perhaps some even had pyrotechnics. You may have a dizzying collection of CDs and of course, all of your favorite stations are programmed into your media player. But just maybe, there is a chance that you have never seen a real orchestra perform live before. Sure, you have likely heard Grandmother’s old LPs of something called Classical Music, that doesn’t mean you actually listen to it. You would never have dreamed of actually paying to see anything but the most current artists . . . But someone, Maybe Granny, herself has given you a ticket to this very concert tonight and maybe you decided to go and see. Maybe you were forced to go, bored or just curious. But here you are.
By Amber M Martell4 years ago in Beat