Narrative 3: Dreaming by the Fire

"Dreaming by the Fire"
Ahh, time to rest at last. As I snuggle up comfortably in front of the warming fire, surrounded by the new toys and indulging in the Christmas aroma I think about my busy day. Christmas is always the most fun filled and most tiring day of the year. I love playing with the joyful kids and all their new Christmas presents. Their faces are lit with joy when they open each neatly wrapped present. I already know what everyone is getting because I was up late the night before, helping their mom wrap every gift. I love pawing each toy to see what it will do and if it will move. I jump back away from a mobile toy and hit it again, this time more cautiously. The kids love this and squeal with laughter every time I do it. Then they come over and pick me up tenderly. They gently stroke the top of my head; this feels so good, I close my eyes and being to purr.
I am still purring as they hand me to their mother with grace. It always amazes me at how gently they handle me. For such loud and rough kids, I would assume they wouldn't be as careful, but they always are. As their mother happily takes me into her lap, I curl into a fluffy ball as she strokes me. I am so comfortable right then. When it is time for her to start preparing dinner, she picks me up and replaces me on the couch with care. This spot is not as warm as her lap so I gracefully jump down on to the warm soft carpet and nestle between the toys, drifting off into a wonderful dream.
By the time the anticipated guests arrive for dinner, I am fully rested and cheerfully greet them with a series of meows while I excitedly rub against their legs. They pick me up and cuddle me as they step into the kitchen. I love this newly arrived family because I remember them from when I was just a newborn kitten. They are the people who adopted me one cold winter evening and gave me, as a Christmas gift, to my current family. I remember being very anxious before meeting my new family for the first time, I was nervous because I wasn’t sure if they would like me. I think it was the little red ribbon around my neck that won their hearts; they kept repeating how cute I was and constantly thanked their relatives for giving them such a generous Christmas present. This must be the reason why I love Christmas so much!
As everyone settles down to eat, I happily replace myself at my favorite spot in the house, right in front of the fire. I listen to the casual chatter of a Christmas dinner and once again, drift off to sleep. I couldn’t ask for a better Christmas present than this wonderful day. I can’t wait until next year when I get to repeat this whole day all over again!

Connecting with the Community Idea

My concept is comfort and I'm not quite sure about what to do for my community project. I was thinking about doing a survey/questionare about what makes people feel comfortable and say how they have or would comfort someone in need. Or maybe ask people to represent comfort through pictures

Sobbing Soldier Narrative #2

Sobbing Soldier Narrative #2

I held Nick close, trying to comfort him. We were both terrified of the past and dreading the future. The best we can do is pick up our gear and trudge onward, desperately hoping to make it back to base alive. As I tell Nick to not worry, that everything is going to be all right, I think of his wife back home and their baby on the way. I’ve seen pictures of her and can’t imagine how Nick can stand to be away from her. I can’t tolerate to be in this wretched mess, I comfort Nick as best as I know how: we will survive this hell. The best way to make it through is to constantly reassure yourself; think of the reason you’re there, and the reason you are going to make it out alive. The one thing that gets me through every day is my girl back home. I have a picture of her in my back pocket. Late at night, right before I drift into an uncertain sleep, I often study the torn and wrinkled photo. It’s wonderful summer day and she is wearing a sweet little white dress with a red ribbon wrapped around her untamed auburn curls. She has a slice of half-eaten watermelon in her hand, and the juice is dribbling down her hand and arm, but it doesn’t seem to bother her one bit. She looks up at the camera with delight and excitement in her eyes; her bright smile seems to melt away all my fears. As Nick regains his composure, I close my eyes in attempt to recall her laugh and automatically think of her letters to me. I don’t have enough pockets to carry all of them with me so I only have the most recent one at the moment; this is sitting in my back pocket also. I pull it out of my pocket, my only escape: this little piece of paper. I reread the short letter quickly; eager to get to the beautiful farewell that tears my eyes every time. And then, at the bottom, there it is, like it is on every letter: “I love you, please come home soon.” I fight back tears, trying to be a strong soldier, but this is one thing no soldier can protect himself from. I’ll never stop being amazed at how my four-year-old girl knows exactly what to say. And this is the reason I’m going to make it out alive.

Traveling Soldier

Traveling Soldier-Dixie Chicks

Two days past eighteen
He was waiting for the bus in his army green
Sat down in a booth in a cafe there
Gave his order to a girl with a bow in her hair
He's a little shy so she gives him a smile
And he said would you mind sittin' down for a while
And talking to me,I'm feeling a little low
She said I'm off in an hour and I know where we can go
So they went down and they sat on the pier
He said I bet you got a boyfriend but I don't care
I got no one to send a letter to
Would you mind if I sent one back here to you

I cried
Never gonna hold the hand of another guy
Too young for him they told her
Waitin' for the love of a travelin' soldier
Our love will never end
Waitin' for the soldier to come back again
Never more to be alone when the letter said
A soldier's coming home

So the letters came from an army camp
In California then Vietnam
And he told her of his heart
It might be love and all of the things he was so scared of
He said when it's getting kinda rough over here
I think of that day sittin' down at the pier
And I close my eyes and see your pretty smile
Don't worry but I won't be able to write for awhile

One Friday night at a football game
The Lord's Prayer said and the Anthem sang
A man said folks would you bow your heads
For a list of local Vietnam dead
Crying all alone under the stands
Was a piccolo player in the marching band
And one name read and nobody really cared
But a pretty little girl with a bow in her hair


I think this song illistrates comfort because both the soldier and the pretty little girl find comfort in eachother. They write to eachother to ease the pain of being apart and the fear of the war.