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Real life radio essay contest for inn

Real Life Radio Essay Contest For Inn

Real life radio essay contest for inn

Great radio features and information that connects with today's audience. One seemingly unstoppable real estate trend this year has been the write-an-essay-win-a-house contest, in which homeowners who want to sell their properties in a quicker, more meaningful, or. Watch our Real Life Radio Show taping right here! FM TheWord. 6. Part 2 - Join us now! Skip ahead to on timeline where interview begins. Rob Radosti became a Satanist at 14 years old and began practicing witchcraft and later satanic rituals. He was filled with hatred and rage. Though he did drugs, pornography, and lived as a. LOVELL, Maine (AP) — A woman who won a Maine country inn in an essay writing contest more than two decades ago wants to give it away in the same essay2019.pw Sage is asking prospective owners. Janice Sage acquired the inn in an essay contest 22 years ago, and she wants to pass it on the same way. By Brian MacQuarrie Globe Staff March 09, LOVELL, Maine — Wanted: new owner for a.

As the fire threatened classic Los Angeles landmarks like the newly renovated observatory and the Greek Theatre, it made Nadine, 17, appreciate her Los Angeles home even more. What has changed your life? Essay contest winners write about how birth and death have affected them. Mine was the birth of my little brother, Matthew. I was happy and sad at the same time. Back then, I did not know what a positive impact this event would have on my life.

When Matthew was born I picked out his name, by the way I could not stop smiling. Not until I picked him up did I feel the weight of his life on my shoulders, and the weight of the effect I would have on him. I immediately felt I had more responsibility, and I was ready to do anything for my little brother.

My whole family took care of him, even the cat, and life was somewhat peaceful during those first few weeks. When my mom went out for the first time in months, I fed him a bottle, and although he spit up most of it and only drank a few drops, it was just as satisfying for me as for Matthew. I was there when he rolled over for the first time, and I was there when he took his first steps.

I saw his first tooth come in, and I will soon see his first tooth fall out. At least he was making an effort to talk to me. That was seven years ago, and Matthew and I are closer than ever. My older brother is a senior in high school and getting ready for college, so he does not get to spend much time with us.

So that leaves me to spend time with my brother, which, although it is often difficult and tiring, is quite gratifying. He may cheat in checkers, but he is only doing that to win and get respect from his big brother.

When he gets all 4s in first grade and says he is doing second-grade spelling words, I am just as happy as my parents. I baby-sit him constantly and we have fun, even though he is pretty much in charge. He knows all the words to dozens of Ray Charles songs, and he even has his own blues-y voice. But more than just my music rubs off on Matthew. When I got an electric piano for Hanukkah, so did he.

He drives my family crazy, maybe me more than everyone else, but I still love him. I teach him things every day and he teaches me things too, most of them about myself. He comes before everything else in my life and rightly so.

Every site I visit on the Internet he bookmarks in his folder. Although Matthew can still relate to kids his age, he is probably more mature than most of them just for having spent so much time with me. Everything we do rubs off on each other.

Essay contest: What has changed your life?

The most life-changing experience was the death of my mother. When I was young, around 5 years old, my sister Alisha died. Right now, Alisha would probably be starting college.

She just looked at it for a second and stuck the tooth back in her mouth! I thought she was crazy! It was so funny, but gross at the same time. Some people tell me that when you commit suicide, you go to hell. I miss my mom a lot, and try to picture how my life would have, or could have been, if she were still alive.

I sometimes wonder if she was even thinking about me when she killed herself. Did she not care? Did she think that it would be best for me? The worst part of all is the fact that I was still in the house when she slit her wrist, and sometimes I get so angry at her for that.

Want a Maine inn? You’re just an essay contest away

My kids will never have a grandmother from my side of the family. I will never have a mom to go shopping for bras with, and I will never have a normal life. I will always be haunted by the memory of what she did. Whenever someone describes slitting their wrist or anything about veins and arteries or anything that has to do with the details of it all, I get squirmy and chills go down my spine, and sometimes there is a tingle in my wrist.

Owner of Maine inn holds essay contest to select new owner

It irritates me until I calm down or forget about it, and I fear that the feeling will never go away. It gets spooky, and I wish that she would have thought twice before she did anything. My life will never be the same, and I will never have a mother. What, you may ask?

Real life radio essay contest for inn

When I was 12 years old, my father was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. I remember my father would always help me with my schoolwork and was my best friend. He taught me everything, from how to use a computer to how to fish.

He was the best blessing God gave me. No one could ask for a better father. He always went out with my sisters and me to go salsa dancing. As a family we would have the best times in the world.

These 9 Creative Ways to Sell a House Are So Outlandish They Just Might Work

When he was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer, my two sisters and I formed a salsa group called Triple Threat. That year we performed in the fourth annual Salsa Congress. Unfortunately, during the month of April my father failed his chemotherapy and was admitted to the hospital. I remember going to the hospital every day after school. He was so weak. On May 17, , God decided to take my father to heaven.

I was too young to understand what had happened. Of course I was devastated, crying every day. My mother forced me to go to school the next day. She said my father had always wanted me to do well in school. I miss him so much. I always wonder what it would have been like to have him here with me during my teen years.

I still cry at times. Nothing can take away that pain. The other day my mother and I were talking. She said she would cry every day after dropping me off at school. She would try her hardest not to cry in front of me and it showed me how strong she is. After three and a half years, that just hit me.

I will never have my dad to walk me down the aisle. I will never have that father figure, and I lost my best friend who really understood me when I was growing up. It hurts me so. Although I may not have all those things, I try every day to realize how beautiful life is.

Ever since his death, my family has gotten closer. We have learned that family comes first before anything. In that way it helped. I have also been really independent. I work, I do well in school, I pay for my own phone bill and soon will be able to afford my own car, and I dance. I also try every day to appreciate that I have a beautiful family and a loving boyfriend. So in my opinion a death, no matter who it is, can change lives.

Real life radio essay contest for inn

My father was my hero. I thank God every day that he was in my life. When I was young, everything seemed to be OK. But as I got older, I began to notice that my father was getting more and more verbally abusive.

Not just to my brother and me, but to my mom as well. When I first noticed the verbal abuse, I thought that maybe someone had done something or said something to make my dad upset. My dad would yell at us and call us names, and then he would calm down and act as if nothing had happened. But as the years went on, he started yelling and screaming obscenities at the drop of a hat. We were very careful about what we said and did around him, afraid that we might tip him off.

I felt as if I was always stepping on eggshells. I eventually got tired of the yelling and name-calling and started to talk back to my dad. One afternoon I was watching the Oprah Winfrey Show and they were doing an episode on domestic violence. I paid close attention to what they were talking about.

Ninety percent of what they said described how my dad was acting.