Now, put the words into a sentence that makes sense.H_________ __________ ___________ __________ __________ __________ ___________ ___________ .
Sarah burst into the kitchen, wearing her biggest smile. "Last day of school, Mom! Summer's finally here!"
Her mother grinned back. "It's going to be a special summer, too," she said. "I've just learned that your cousin Maria will spend it with us."
Sarah couldn't believe her ears. "Cousin Maria? The one who lives in Mexico City? But why is she coming here?" Sarah asked.
"She's never been to the United States before. And since we have an extra bed in your room, your dad and I thought it would be fun to have Maria with us for a couple of months."
Sarah nodded. "I guess. But, Mom, we've never even met each other."
"I know. But she's your age. I think the two of you will become good friends. There is one problem, though. Maria doesn't speak any English."
"Your dad and I speak Spanish. Things will be fine. You'll see."
I'm not so sure, Sarah thought. How can Maria and I become friends when we can't even talk to each other?
Maria arrived two days later. Sarah's parents talked to their visitor in Spanish, but she didn't say much. She just looked around shyly.
She's homesick and afraid, Sarah realized. I'd feel the same way if I were her. But if I can't speak her language, and she can't speak mine, how can I help?
As Sarah was getting ready for bed, she had an idea.
When Sarah woke up the next morning, she slipped out of bed as quietly as she could. She took some paper from her school notebook, picked up a pencil and on the first sheet of paper, she wrote the word "bed." Then she taped it to her bed's headboard.
She taped signs to the chair, lamp, desk, rug, bookcase, window and curtains. She couldn't wait for her cousin to awaken, so they could begin a language lesson.
But when Maria woke up and saw the signs stuck all over the room, she just seemed confused.
Sarah pointed to the sign on the chair. "See? This is a chair." She turned to Maria. "Say, 'chair.' "
She went to her desk, got more paper and another pencil, and handed them to Maria. "Write down the Spanish word for chair."
She began to write on the paper. When she finished, it read "silla."
"Silla?" Sarah asked, pointing to the chair.
"Now you say 'chair,' " Sarah said.
"Chair," Maria said smiling.
The girls went on labeling and pronouncing everything in sight, and by the time they caught Sarah's dog, the two girls were giggling together. The pooch bounded away wearing a sign reading: Dog — Perro.
She seems happier, Sarah thought, And I feel less strange around her. Maybe we can be friends after all.
Sarah found her mother reading on the front porch. "Hey, Mom, how do you say ‘friend' in Spanish?"
"A boy is called 'amigo.' A girl is called 'amiga.' "
"Thanks," Sarah said, hurrying back to Maria.
"Hi, amiga," Sarah declared.
Maria looked pleased. She pointed at Sarah. "Amiga."
Sarah nodded and gestured back and forth between the two of them, "Friend, amiga. Amiga, friend."
The girls beamed at each other.
They spent most of the day playing their new game, forgetting the words and going back over them until they remembered.
Sarah was glad summer had only just begun.
The soldiers had set fire to our village. Since I was a baby, I had fallen asleep to the music of rustling bamboo leaves. Now the bamboo, like my people, was almost gone.
The Burmese army wanted our land, our green rice paddies, and our sparkling rivers.
Some of my friends and relatives fled to hiding places in the jungle nearby, hoping and praying that they could return to the village soon. Others, like us, risked the longer journey to the refugee camp across the border in Thailand.
The camp looked like our village, but it wasn't the same. We couldn't leave the area. We couldn't work to earn money. We couldn't even plant our own food.
Each month, a relief truck brought food and medicine. My father and the other camp leaders divided the supplies carefully and stored the extra. They would carry heavy bags of medicine, clothes, food, and books to our people in hiding. How I wanted to join them! It was the only way to keep our people alive until we were free to go back to our village.
My cousin Sayareh and I decided to prepare ourselves. Day after day, we helped the men cut the bamboo that lined the river.
Then one morning, Father's bag stood packed and ready by the door. It was time for another journey.
"Tooreh! Sayareh!" Father called. "One of the men is sick. To replace him, we must test you boys."
"Which boys will take the test?" he asked.
Wareh pointed to the biggest boy. "You first. Carry the pack to the river, walk to the bend and then turn back. I will time how long you take."
The boy swung the pack on his shoulders and surged forward. We ran after him. If the river had been slow and shallow, he could have walked straight down the middle. But the straight course was full of shaded, slippery rocks and the current was strong in many places. The boy zigzagged instead, leaping from one sunny, dry rock to another and staying in shallow waters. When he finished, the pack was dry and his time was good.
Next was Sayareh's turn. I ran beside him, shouting encouragement. I knew he'd do the same for me. At the bank, he ran headlong into the water.
"Look out!" I called, staying close behind him.
Sayareh slipped and fell with the pack on top of him. The swift current dragged his head under. With all my strength, I lunged forward and grabbed the handle on the pack. Sayareh was still clutching the rope that bound it.
"Don't let go!" I shouted. Slowly, I managed to drag him and the pack back to shallow water.
We trudged back to the group with Father easily carrying the pack.
"You can do it, Tooreh," Sayareh whispered, staying close to me even though I knew he was fighting shame and disappointment.
My first push took me to the river. I waded in, and the pack slid into the water with a splash. Struggling to my feet and hoisting it up again, I tried to think clearly.
Then I caught sight of the bamboo leaning over the water. I splashed across the river and grabbed one strong, flexible stalk. Using one stalk after another, I swung myself from one slippery rock to the next.
By the time I made it back to the group, I was gasping for air. After dropping my load, I slumped on the ground beside Sayareh. I had taken much longer than the first boy, but at least I had made it. My father could hold his head high, even if I couldn't join him on the journey into the jungle. I choked back my disappointment at the thought of him leaving without me.
"We have the makings of good men here," Wareh said. "But one of them is most suited to go on this journey."
He placed his hand on the shoulder of the big boy, who had made the task look so easy. "You did well," he said. "We will take you next time."
"Tooreh's time was not the fastest," Wareh said. "But he was the first one in the river to help his cousin. The pack was twice as heavy after it got wet, but he didn't complain. He used the bamboo to give him strength when his own was running out. He never gave up. Tooreh is the kind of man we will need in our time of trouble."
He lifted the pack. "Will you carry this again?" he asked me. "It will be lighter on the journey home."
"I will," I answered, looking over at Father, who was smiling and standing tall.
Have your children use the letter graph to complete the puzzle and find out how God wants them to treat others.
Answer: "Love each other like brothers and sisters. Give each other more honor than you want for yourselves" (Romans 12:10, NCV).
Today Carlos was starting his new business, Casper Rides. He planned to offer horse rides to kids in the field next to the new mall.
"What's taking you so long?" his friend Miles hollered from the stable.
Carlos said, "I can't find the saddle."
Miles squawked, "How's that possible? Aren't saddles pretty big?"
He poked his head into the tack room. "Oh my! How do you find anything in here? This place is a mess!"
"It's not that bad," Carlos picked up a squashed hat. "I know where everything is."
"Everything except the saddle." Miles said. "You know, Carlos, you've gotta get organized!" Miles was a neat freak: color-coded folders for his classes, bed always made, hair never out of place. He was annoying Carlos.
"Ow!" Carlos's shin hit something hard. "Here's the saddle. See?"
The town of Murphy was growing fast. The new mall looked strange, looming up above pastureland and the tiny country store. Carlos steered Casper into the field and stopped.
Miles slid off Casper shakily.
Mrs. Shapiro, Carlos's neighbor, soon pulled up in a green van. Her daughter Emma had taken riding lessons from Carlos last week. Three more cars and a truck pulled up behind them. It was looking like the business was going to work!
"Hey, Emmy, do you want to ride Casper?"
Emma nodded, "Okay." Carlos lifted her up and told Mrs. Shapiro it would be $6. Casper snorted with happiness.
Six other little girls lined up with their mothers. Two more cars pulled up, along with four boys on bikes.
This is great! Carlos thought. I'll make a fortune!
Miles went to work organizing the line of kids. "Everyone gets a six-minute ride," he said, checking his watch.
Carlos helped Emma down and Mrs. Shapiro handed him a $10 dollar bill. "I'm sorry, but it's the smallest I have."
Carlos said, "I don't have any change."
"Where's the cash box?" Miles sorted through Carlos' backpack but only found a bag of Doritos. He shook his head. "Carlos, if you are going to have a business, you need to you have bills and coins small enough to make change."
"I know that." Carlos groped in his pockets and pulled out a half-melted candy bar.
"Wait!" Carlos yelped. "I'll go get some change."
He dashed toward the mall, leaving Miles to mind Casper, and all the customers waiting behind.
When Carlos finally found a change machine, he saw Miles running toward him.
"All the customers left after you did. And then Casper made a mess on the ground!"
Carlos told his friend, "Miles, all horses go to the bathroom."
"But we need to clean it up with something. It's the law," Miles told him.
They headed toward the bathroom to try to find paper towels. Brownies and their mothers waved at them from the girls' department of Macy's.
"Where'd you tie up Casper?" Carlos asked.
"Tie him up?" Miles looked at him blankly. "I told him to stay."
"Stay?!!!" Carlos felt the blood drain from his face. "He's a horse, not a dog!"
Suddenly, shrieks came from the girls' department. A rack of clearance bathing suits bumped into the aisle. A table full of socks crashed to the floor as Brownies, mothers and clerks scattered. Carlos and Miles rounded the corner just in time to see a large white horse stepping carefully over shoe boxes and plastic purses. Casper swung his head around, draped in bathing suits, and whinnied.
"Horse loose on aisle 12!" came the announcement over the public-address system. Sirens blared. Casper turned at the escalator and headed for cosmetics. Carlos and Miles charged after him, along with the security guards.
Then Casper stopped. Standing next to the perfume was little Emma Shapiro, holding out an apple from her lunch sack. "Come on, Casper," she sang out. "Come have a treat."
Back at the stable, Carlos pulled out the cash box from under straw and boots. Fifty-two dollars and 76 cents. It would take all that and more to pay off the damages at the mall. No profit today.
Miles sat on the floor, drawing a chart. "Okay," he said. "Here's how it happened: Casper escaped because you went into the mall, which was caused by you leaving the cash box because you couldn't find it, which was caused by the utter chaos of your life."
"Don't forget that you didn't tie him up."
"Well, yeah," Miles said. "That too."
"Carlos?" Miles continued, "How about if I help you get organized in here? Then do you think you could teach me what to do with a horse?"
Carlos felt a slow smile coming to his face.
Do you know why the lights come on when you flick the switch?
Thomas Edison could've told you. He invented the light bulb more than 130 years ago. Edison also thought of nearly 1,100 other things that improved the world, including a power generator to make electricity, a record player to record and play back words and music, and a movie camera to film moving pictures.
Edison didn't hear as well as the other kids, so he couldn't understand everything the teacher said. Finally, when he was 10, his mother pulled him out of school and gave him books to read. She had been a schoolteacher and knew how to make learning fun for her son.
Chemistry and science were Edison's favorite subjects. His mother helped him set up a laboratory in his room, but quickly had him move it to the basement because he spilled chemicals and ruined the floor and furniture.
Edison enjoyed experimenting and improving other inventions. Because he wasn't a fast learner early on in life, he realized the importance of never giving up. And it's a good thing, since it took him more than 1,500 tries to make the light bulb work perfectly.
Albert Einstein is one of the greatest scientists of all time. But Einstein wasn't always wowing people with his deep thoughts. When he was your age, Albert was no "Einstein."
While many children learn to say words by the time they are 1, he didn't talk until he was 3 years old. Even as he grew, he had trouble putting thoughts into words. At 9, he rarely spoke or talked very slowly. His dad thought he was stupid, and the elementary school principal told his family it didn't matter what Einstein studied because he'd never be successful at anything.
He had a lot of trouble memorizing facts. Math interested him, because he had to figure out the answer instead of trying to remember the correct fact.
While he disliked school as a child, Einstein enjoyed playing the violin and building things. He loved to put together puzzles and create houses out of blocks and cards. Sometimes his card houses would be 14 stories high!
When Einstein grew a little, his uncle Jakob starting teaching him about difficult math problems at home. Einstein quickly learned the concepts and started solving problems that only much older kids were able to do.
By the time Einstein went to college at 17, he was a math and science whiz. He even got an article published in a German science magazine when he was 21.
Twenty-one years later, in 1921, Einstein won the Nobel Prize in physics, as the best scientist in the world.
Woodrow Wilson ran the most powerful country in the world for eight years. He was president of the United States during World War I and helped the Europeans defeat Germany. Not bad for a kid who didn't know the alphabet until he was 9 years old and couldn't read until he was 11.
Born in 1856 in Virginia, Wilson grew up listening to good books. His father was a Presbyterian minister and everyday his family would gather to pray, sing and read. Although Wilson couldn't read, his dad made sure he could speak well. He took Woodrow to see new inventions or read chapters from books. Then the two of them would talk about the ideas.
Wilson hoped to follow in his father's footsteps as a minister, but he got sick a lot at college and had to drop out.
By the time he returned to college at Princeton University in New Jersey, Wilson decided to study politics. He graduated from Princeton then entered law school.
Wilson's plan to serve people in government was put on hold when he became a college professor. He taught college for 17 years and even became the president of Princeton in 1902.
Eight years later Wilson was elected governor of New Jersey, and two years after that he became the 28th president of the United States.
He will always be remembered for his direct, honest and smooth way of speaking — even if he wasn't very good at his ABCs.
Listen to this Adventures in Odyssey episode with your family.
Based on the Adventures in Odyssey episode, "Mayor for a Day."
Based on the Adventures in Odyssey episode, "Our Daily Bread."
Based on the Adventures in Odyssey episode, "Relatively Annoying."
Kahil strolled onto the playground. This new school year felt like a visit to another planet. He was a sixth-grader — a glorious sixth-grader. Last year's bullies were gone to junior high.
All last year they had harassed him by calling him "short stuff" and making faces at him in the hallways. Well, he wasn't "short stuff" anymore!
Kahil had grown 6 inches in three months.
New bullies took the place of the old ones. Some things never change. Just this morning on the bus Kahil had seen Marty stumble, and Kahil was pretty sure it was over Edgar's foot. Marty was the shortest kid in the fifth grade. Boy, did Kahil remember what that was like!
As he neared the cluster of trees, he heard shouting. Screened from the view of the playground supervisor was a circle of boys — a fifth-grader cowered in the center.
Kahil wasn't surprised to see it was Marty.
"Hey, Mini-Mart!" the boys shouted."Hey, loser!"
Marty looked scared. Kahil felt sick to his stomach.
I can't let another kid go through the same thing I did, he thought. Evil men do not understand justice. Well, I sure do!
At lunchtime, Marty brought Kahil to a far table where two other fifth-graders sat.
"Teagan and Luke," he said, "meet Kahil."
The two looked at Kahil uneasily.
"We're used to getting grief from sixth-graders," Marty explained.
"Relax," Kahil said. "Nobody's going to mess with you while I'm here."
As if on cue, Edgar and six of his crew sidled up to the table.
Teagan looked worriedly at Kahil. A picture of knocking Edgar to the next table formed in Kahil's mind.
Kahil stood to his full height. "Blessed are the peacemakers," he said calmly.
"What a weirdo," Edgar mumbled. "C'mon, let's get out of here."
They left. Teagan and Luke looked at Kahil with unconcealed admiration. Kahil straightened his shoulders and sat down.
"Welcome to the club," he said.
"What club?" Luke asked.
"The Losers' Club," Kahil said.
"These bullies just don't get it," Kahil said. "But we don't have to let them bother us."
"You stop them in their tracks, Kahil," Luke said. "They're afraid to come near you."
Afraid of me? Kahil found the thought a little startling. But maybe fear was what it took to make bullies understand justice.
As the weeks went by, Kahil tried not to notice the way most kids crossed to the other side of the hall when he passed. But these "little nasties" were getting to him more than he wanted to admit.
One Friday, Kahil felt different, jumpy. Edgar and his gang sniggered by the boys' bathroom. Something was going to happen, and it wasn't going to be good.
The Losers' Club only had to wait a day to find out what. Three minutes into their Saturday meeting, they heard a SPLAT! Marty poked his head out of the stump and quickly pulled it back . . . covered in raw egg!
"Come on out, Losers!" Edgar jeered. "It's time for breakfast!"
Kahil had a sour taste in his mouth. No way were they going to get away with this. This was war!
"Yaaah!" Kahil shouted.
He tore out of the stump, straight into a flank of boys and a barrage of flying eggs. Edgar stood with his army jacket tied around his waist, egging on the eggers. Edgar darted for the egg carton, and his jacket fell to the ground. Kahil snatched it up. Then Edgar saw his jacket. "You better give that back," he said.
Edgar's face fell. "I want it back," he said. There was a note of pleading in his voice. Ed's buddies shifted from foot to foot, but nobody went after the jacket.
Kahil smiled. He noticed a jagged branch, sharp enough to shred cloth. Now he had this bully where he wanted him.
Kahil whipped the jacket onto the branch.
"Don't!" Edgar yelped again. "It's my brother's."
"My brother's overseas," Edgar choked out. "He's been gone seven months." He took a breath. "If you wreck his jacket, I'll make you pay."
"So make me pay," he said and reached to give the jacket a yank.
"Kahil," Marty said, " 'blessed are the peacemakers.' That's what you said."
Kahil's energy drained. Peacemakers? What about justice? Evil men do not understand justice. He looked at his hands. Who was the bully now?
Carefully, Kahil removed the jacket from the branch.
"That must be tough," he said quietly. "You must miss him."
Edgar snatched his jacket and shrugged.
"At the gate, Edgar turned and looked back — not a mean look this time, just unsettled.
"You know," Teagan said, "I don't think we're the Losers' Club anymore."
Kahil nodded. "I think you're right."
Daniel waved at his mother who was watching from the kitchen window. She waved back. He tossed his new football into the air and caught it again.
He was having fun without being bad. That was good.
That was before Daniel saw the neighbors' big, gray cat.
He watched it crawl along the top of the wooden fence that divided his back yard from the neighbors'.
"You mean old cat!" Daniel shouted.
Daniel didn't like that cat. He had tried to pet it once and got a big scratch.
The cat yawned, then scratched the top of the fence. Tiny pieces of wood floated down to the grass.
"Stop wrecking my daddy's fence!" Daniel demanded.
"You're in big trouble," Daniel said. He took the football and threw it with all his might.
At the last possible instant, it jumped out of the way. The ball flew over the fence, passing right where the cat had been.
"Wow!" Daniel whispered. He couldn't believe he'd come so close.
Then he heard a SMASH!
"Oh, no!" he groaned.
Daniel crept toward the fence and peeked through a crack. He saw his football lying by the wall of his neighbors' house. And right beside it was a big blue flowerpot cracked on one side. "Oh, no!" Daniel moaned. What am I going to do?
Daniel walked around to the gate.
I should ask for permission to go into our neighbors' yard, he thought. But then Mom will find out about the bad thing I've done. Daniel shook his head. He didn't want that to happen. Instead, he checked the latch. Good, it's not locked.
Opening the gate, Daniel walked inside.
He ran toward his football and quickly picked it up. Staring at the broken flowerpot, he wondered what to do.
Whatever I do, I better hurry, he thought. I shouldn't be here.
Daniel stuffed the pieces of pottery into the pocket of his sweatshirt.
"This is really bad," he mumbled.
Grabbing the flowerpot with both hands, he spun it around until the broken spot faced the wall. He smiled. The bad thing was hard to see.
Now I've got to hide the pieces, he thought.
Closing the gate behind him, Daniel searched for a place to hide the broken pieces.
"Daniel, where have you been?" Mom asked as she headed up the sidewalk. "I've been looking for you."
Daniel wanted to say that he'd been playing in the front yard. He wanted to lie.
But that would be another bad thing. He remembered his first bad thing: throwing the ball at the cat. He felt bad about the second bad thing: smashing the flowerpot. Then there was the third bad thing: going into the neighbors' yard without permission. He suddenly realized his fourth bad thing: trying to hide the broken flowerpot.
And now Daniel wanted to hide all his bad things with a big lie.
No, that would be really bad, he decided.
"Mom, would you still love me, even if I told you some bad things I've done?" he asked.
His mother smiled. "Of course, Daniel." She knelt beside him, so she could listen better.
1. If you want something, it is also called a ________________.
2. If you have an idea to do something, you should make a ________________.
3. The final reason for doing something is also called the ___________________.
4. Something that you believe in is called your personal __________________.
5. When you think about something you want in the future, it becomes your ___________________.
6. When you trust and believe in something very strongly, you have _________________.
1. What I hope for my future is _________________________________________________.
2. What I hope for my family's future is _________________________________________________.
3. What I hope for the future of the world is _________________________________________________.