...and books are always coming up with new strategies to help parents cope with children’s expectations for life and other material goods. “The House on Mango Street” by Sandra Cisneros and “Cinderella” by Anne Sexton both show how kids grow up expecting perfect situations in life like fairytales; the main difference is that Cisneros’ story shows a young person waiting for the parents to provide her with happiness whereas in Sexton’s piece the young girl shows initiative to make her dreams a reality. In “The House on Mango Street,” by Sandra Cisneros, a child details her living situation with her parents. She talks about how they lived in apartments and moved around before finally moving to a house. The house the family finally moves to does not meet her expectations that were created by her parents. Although the house is “a real house that would be ours for always so we wouldn’t have to move each year” (Cisneros 392) it has lots of problems and things seem to break a lot. At one point her teacher passes by the house where she sees the girl playing and reacts in a way that makes her embarrassed of her home. The story ends with her expressing a desire to move to “A real house. One I could point to.” (Cisneros 392) but her parents just say this is how it is for now. “Cinderella” by Anne Sexton starts by giving examples of...
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...Prologue Florence, 1283 The poet stood next to the bridge and watched as the young woman approached. The world ground to a near standstill as he remarked her wide, dark eyes and elegantly curled brown hair. At first he didn’t recognize her. She was breathtakingly beautiful, her movements sure and graceful. Yet there was something about her face and figure that reminded him of the girl he’d fallen in love with long ago. They’d gone their separate ways, and he had always mourned her, his angel, his muse, his beloved Beatrice. Without her, his life had been lonely and small. Now his blessedness appeared. As she approached him with her companions, he bowed his head and body in a chivalrous salute. He had no expectation that his presence would be acknowledged. She was both perfect and untouchable, a browneyed angel dressed in resplendent white, while he was older, world-weary and wanting. She had almost passed him when his downcast eyes caught sight of one of her slippers — a slipper that hesitated just in front of him. His heart beat a furious tattoo as he waited, breathless. A soft and gentle voice broke into his remembrances as she spoke to him kindly. His startled eyes flew to hers. For years and years he’d longed for this moment, dreamed of it even, but never had he imagined encountering her in such a serendipitous fashion. And never had he dared hope he would be greeted so sweetly. Caught off balance, he mumbled his pleasantries and allowed himself the indulgence of a smile...
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...___________________________ LIVING HISTORY Hillary Rodham Clinton Simon & Schuster New York • London • Toronto • Sydney • Singapore To my parents, my husband, my daughter and all the good souls around the world whose inspiration, prayers, support and love blessed my heart and sustained me in the years of living history. AUTHOR’S NOTE In 1959, I wrote my autobiography for an assignment in sixth grade. In twenty-nine pages, most half-filled with earnest scrawl, I described my parents, brothers, pets, house, hobbies, school, sports and plans for the future. Forty-two years later, I began writing another memoir, this one about the eight years I spent in the White House living history with Bill Clinton. I quickly realized that I couldn’t explain my life as First Lady without going back to the beginning―how I became the woman I was that first day I walked into the White House on January 20, 1993, to take on a new role and experiences that would test and transform me in unexpected ways. By the time I crossed the threshold of the White House, I had been shaped by my family upbringing, education, religious faith and all that I had learned before―as the daughter of a staunch conservative father and a more liberal mother, a student activist, an advocate for children, a lawyer, Bill’s wife and Chelsea’s mom. For each chapter, there were more ideas I wanted to discuss than space allowed; more people to include than could be named; more places visited than could be described...
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