{"id":20,"date":"2020-11-18T20:27:22","date_gmt":"2020-11-18T17:27:22","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/blogs.e-me.edu.gr\/hive-PARKAROUME\/?page_id=20"},"modified":"2021-10-31T12:12:13","modified_gmt":"2021-10-31T09:12:13","slug":"stories","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/blogs.e-me.edu.gr\/hive-PARKAROUME\/stories\/","title":{"rendered":"READ STORIES ABOUT EVERYDAY HEROES"},"content":{"rendered":"<p style=\"text-align: left\"><span style=\"font-size: 14pt\"><strong>Thank You, Ma'am (by Langston Hughes)<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: left\"><strong>She was a large woman with a large purse that had everything in it but hammer and nails. It had a long strap, and she carried it slung across her shoulder. It was about eleven o\u2019clock at night, and she was walking alone, when a boy ran up behind her and tried to snatch her purse. The strap broke with the single tug the boy gave it from behind. But the boy\u2019s weight and the weight of the purse combined caused him to lose his balance so, intsead of taking off full blast as he had hoped, the boy fell on his back on the sidewalk, and his legs flew up. The large woman simply turned around and kicked him right square in his blue-jeaned sitter. Then she reached down, picked the boy up by his shirt front, and shook him until his teeth rattled.<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong>After that the woman said, \u201cPick up my pocketbook, boy, and give it here.\u201d She still held him. But she bent down enough to permit him to stoop and pick up her purse. Then she said, \u201cNow ain\u2019t you ashamed of yourself?\u201d Firmly gripped by his shirt front, the boy said, \u201cYes\u2019m.\u201d<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong>The woman said, \u201cWhat did you want to do it for?\u201d The boy said, \u201cI didn\u2019t aim to.\u201d<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong>She said, \u201cYou a lie!\u201d<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong>By that time two or three people passed, stopped, turned to look, and some stood watching.<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong>\u201cIf I turn you loose, will you run?\u201d asked the woman.<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong>\u201cYes\u2019m,\u201d said the boy.<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong>\u201cThen I won\u2019t turn you loose,\u201d said the woman. She did not release him.<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong>\u201cI\u2019m very sorry, lady, I\u2019m sorry,\u201d whispered the boy.<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong>\u201cUm-hum! And your face is dirty. I got a great mind to wash your face for you. Ain\u2019t you got <\/strong><strong>nobody home to tell you to wash your face?\u201d<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong>\u201cNo\u2019m,\u201d said the boy.<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong>\u201cThen it will get washed this evening,\u201d said the large woman starting up the street, dragging the frightened boy behind her.<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong>He looked as if he were fourteen or fifteen, frail and willow-wild, in tennis shoes and blue jeans.<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong>The woman said, \u201cYou ought to be my son. I would teach you right from wrong. Least I can do right now is to wash your face. Are you hungry?\u201d<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong>\u201cNo\u2019m,\u201d said the being dragged boy. \u201cI just want you to turn me loose.\u201d<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong>\u201cWas I bothering you when I turned that corner?\u201d asked the woman.<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong>\u201cNo\u2019m.\u201d<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong>\u201cBut you put yourself in contact with me,\u201d said the woman. \u201cIf you think that that contact is not going to last awhile, you got another thought coming. When I get through with you, sir, you are going to remember Mrs. Luella Bates Washington Jones.\u201d<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong>Sweat popped out on the boy\u2019s face and he began to struggle. Mrs. Jones stopped, jerked him around in front of her, put a half-nelson about his neck, and continued to drag him up the street.<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong>When she got to her door, she dragged the boy inside, down a hall, and into a large kitchenette furnished room at the rear of the house. She switched on the light and left the door open. The boy could hear other roomers laughing and talking in the large house. Some of their doors were open, too, so he knew he and the woman were not alone. The woman still had him by the neck in the middle of her room.<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong>She said, \u201cWhat is your name?\u201d<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong>\u201cRoger,\u201d answered the boy.<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong>\u201cThen, Roger, you go to that sink and wash your face,\u201d said the woman, whereupon she turned him loose\u2014at last. Roger looked at the door\u2014looked at the woman\u2014looked at the door\u2014and went to the sink.<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong>Let the water run until it gets warm,\u201d she said. \u201cHere\u2019s a clean towel.\u201d<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong>\u201cYou gonna take me to jail?\u201d asked the boy, bending over the sink.<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong>\u201cNot with that face, I would not take you nowhere,\u201d said the woman. \u201cHere I am trying to get home to cook me a bite to eat and you snatch my pocketbook! Maybe, you ain\u2019t been to your supper either, late as it be. Have you?\u201d<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong>\u201cThere\u2019s nobody home at my house,\u201d said the boy.<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong>\u201cThen we\u2019ll eat,\u201d said the woman, \u201cI believe you\u2019re hungry\u2014or been hungry\u2014to try to snatch my pockekbook.\u201d<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong>\u201cI wanted a pair of blue suede shoes,\u201d said the boy.<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong>\u201cWell, you didn\u2019t have to snatch my pocketbook to get some suede shoes,\u201d said Mrs. Luella Bates <\/strong><strong>Washington Jones. \u201cYou could have asked me.\u201d<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong>\u201cM\u2019am?\u201d<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong>The water dripping from his face, the boy looked at her. There was a long pause. A very long pause. After he had dried his face and not knowing what else to do dried it again, the boy turned around, wondering what next. The door was open. He could make a dash for it down the hall. He could run, run, run, run, run!<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong>The woman was sitting on the day-bed. After a while she said, \u201cI were young once and I wanted things I could not get.\u201d<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong>There was another long pause. The boy\u2019s mouth opened. Then he frowned, but not knowing he <\/strong><strong>frowned.<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong>The woman said, \u201cUm-hum! You thought I was going to say but, didn\u2019t you? You thought I was going to say, but I didn\u2019t snatch people\u2019s pocketbooks. Well, I wasn\u2019t going to say that.\u201d\u00a0 <\/strong><\/p>\n<p style=\"text-align: left\"><strong>Pause. Silence. \u201cI have done things, too, which I would not tell you, son\u2014neither tell God, if he didn\u2019t already know. So you set down while I fix us something to eat. You might run that comb through your hair so you will look presentable.\u201d<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong>In another corner of the room behind a screen was a gas plate and an icebox. Mrs. Jones got up and went behind the screen. The woman did not watch the boy to see if he was going to run now, nor did she watch her purse which she left behind her on the day-bed. But the boy took care to sit on the far side of the room where he thought she could easily see him out of the corner of her eye, if she wanted to. He did not trust the woman not to trust him. And he did not want to be mistrusted now.<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong>\u201cDo you need somebody to go to the store,\u201d asked the boy, \u201cmaybe to get some milk or something?\u201d<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong>\u201cDon\u2019t believe I do,\u201d said the woman, \u201cunless you just want sweet milk yourself. I was going to <\/strong><strong>make cocoa out of this canned milk I got here.\u201d<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong>\u201cThat will be fine,\u201d said the boy.<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong>She heated some lima beans and ham she had in the icebox, made the cocoa, and set the table.<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong>The woman did not ask the boy anything about where he lived, or his folks, or anything else that would embarrass him. Instead, as they ate, she told him about her job in a hotel beauty-shop that stayed open late, what the work was like, and how all kinds of women came in and out, blondes, red-heads, and Spanish. Then she cut him a half of her ten-cent cake.<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong>\u201cEat some more, son,\u201d she said.<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong>When they were finished eating she got up and said, \u201cNow, here, take this ten dollars and buy yourself some blue suede shoes. And next time, do not make the mistake of latching onto my pocketbook nor nobody else\u2019s\u2014because shoes come by devilish like that will burn your feet. I got to get my rest now. But I wish you would behave yourself, son, from here on in.\u201d<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong>She led him down the hall to the front door and opened it. \u201cGood-night! Behave yourself, boy!\u201d she said, looking out into the street.<\/strong><br \/>\n<strong>The boy wanted to say something else other than \u201cThank you, m\u2019am\u201d to Mrs. Luella Bates Washington Jones, but he couldn\u2019t do so as he turned at the barren stoop and looked back at the large woman in the door. He barely managed to say \u201cThank you\u201d before she shut the door. And he never saw her again.<\/strong><\/p>\n<h1><\/h1>\n<h1 style=\"text-align: center\">\u00a0A XMAS LOVE STORY<\/h1>\n<h1 style=\"text-align: center\">THE GIFT OF THE\u00a0<a href=\"http:\/\/www.answers.com\/magus\">MAGI<\/a><\/h1>\n<h2>(a simplified version)<\/h2>\n<h2>by O. Henry<\/h2>\n<p>One dollar and eighty-seven cents. That was all. Three times Della counted it. One dollar and eighty- seven cents. And the next day would be Christmas.<br \/>\nThere was clearly nothing to do but flop down on the shabby little couch and cry. So Della did it.<br \/>\nDella finished her cry and attended to her cheeks with the powder rag. Tomorrow would be Christmas Day, and she had only $1.87 with which to buy Jim a present. She had been saving every penny she could for months, with this result. Twenty dollars a week doesn\u2019t go far. Expenses had been greater than she had calculated. They always are. Only $1.87 to buy a present for Jim. Her Jim. Many a happy hour she had spent planning for something nice for him. Something fine and rare\u2013something just a little bit near to being worthy of the honor of being owned by Jim.<br \/>\nSuddenly she whirled from the window and stood before the glass. Her eyes were shining brilliantly, but her face had lost its color within twenty seconds. Rapidly she pulled down her hair and let it fall to its full length.<br \/>\nNow, there were two possessions of the James Dillingham Youngs in which they both took a mighty pride. One was Jim\u2019s gold watch that had been his father\u2019s and his grandfather\u2019s. The other was Della\u2019s hair.<br \/>\nSo now Della\u2019s beautiful hair fell about her. It reached below her knee and made itself almost a garment for her. And then she did it up again nervously and quickly. Once she faltered for a minute and stood still while a tear or two splashed on the worn red carpet.<br \/>\nOn went her old brown jacket; on went her old brown hat. With a whirl of skirts and with the brilliant sparkle still in her eyes, she fluttered out the door and down the stairs to the street.<br \/>\nWhere she stopped the sign read: \u00abMne. Sofronie. Hair Goods of All Kinds.\u00bb One flight up Della ran, and collected herself, panting.<br \/>\n\u00abWill you buy my hair?\u00bb asked Della.<br \/>\n\u00abI buy hair,\u00bb said Madame. \u00abTake yer hat off and let\u2019s have a sight at the looks of it.\u00bb<br \/>\nDown rippled the brown cascade.<br \/>\n\u00abTwenty dollars,\u00bb said Madame, lifting the mass with a practised hand.<br \/>\n\u00abGive it to me quick,\u00bb said Della.<br \/>\nOh, and the next two hours tripped by on rosy wings. She was ransacking the stores for Jim\u2019s present.<br \/>\nShe found it at last. It surely had been made for Jim and no one else. There was no other like it in any of the stores, and she had turned all of them inside out. It was a platinum chain simple and chaste in design. It was even worthy of The Watch. As soon as she saw it she knew that it must be Jim\u2019s. It was like him. Quietness and value\u2013the description applied to both. Twenty-one dollars they took from her for it, and she hurried home with the 87 cents. Grand as the watch was, he sometimes looked at it on the sly on account of the old leather strap that he used in place of a chain.<br \/>\nWhen Della reached home her intoxication gave way a little to prudence and reason. She got out her curling irons and lighted the gas and went to work repairing what was left of her hair.<br \/>\nWithin forty minutes her head was covered with tiny, close-lying curls that made her look wonderfully like a truant schoolboy. She looked at her reflection in the mirror long, carefully, and critically.<br \/>\n\u00abIf Jim doesn\u2019t kill me,\u00bb she said to herself, \u00abbefore he takes a second look at me, he\u2019ll say I look like a Coney Island chorus girl. But what could I do\u2013oh! what could I do with a dollar and eighty- seven cents?\u00bb<br \/>\nAt 7 o\u2019clock the coffee was made and the frying-pan was on the back of the stove hot and ready to cook the chops.<br \/>\nJim was never late. Then she heard his step on the stair away down on the first flight, and she turned white for just a moment. She had a habit for saying little silent prayer about the simplest everyday things, and now she whispered: \u00abPlease God, make him think I am still pretty.\u00bb<br \/>\nThe door opened and Jim stepped in and closed it. He looked thin and very serious. Poor fellow, he was only twenty-two\u2013and to be burdened with a family! He needed a new overcoat and he was without gloves.<br \/>\nJim stopped inside the door. His eyes were fixed upon Della, and there was an expression in them that she could not read, and it terrified her. It was not anger, nor surprise, nor disapproval, nor horror, nor any of the sentiments that she had been prepared for. He simply stared at her fixedly with that peculiar expression on his face.<br \/>\n\u00abJim, darling,\u00bb she cried, \u00abdon\u2019t look at me that way. I had my hair cut off and sold because I couldn\u2019t have lived through Christmas without giving you a present. It\u2019ll grow out again\u2013you won\u2019t mind, will you? I just had to do it. My hair grows awfully fast. Say `Merry Christmas!\u2019 Jim, and let\u2019s be happy. You don\u2019t know what a nice\u2013 what a beautiful, nice gift I\u2019ve got for you.\u00bb<br \/>\n\u00abYou\u2019ve cut off your hair?\u00bb asked Jim.<br \/>\n\u00abCut it off and sold it,\u00bb said Della. \u00abDon\u2019t you like me just as well, anyhow? I\u2019m me without my hair, ain\u2019t I?\u00bb<br \/>\nJim looked about the room curiously.<br \/>\n\u00abYou say your hair is gone?\u00bb he said, with an air almost of idiocy.<br \/>\n\u00abYou needn\u2019t look for it,\u00bb said Della. \u00abIt\u2019s sold, I tell you\u2013sold and gone, too. It\u2019s Christmas Eve, boy. Be good to me, for it went for you. \u201cShall I put the chops on, Jim?\u00bb<br \/>\nOut of his trance Jim seemed quickly to wake. He enfolded his Della. He drew a package from his overcoat pocket and threw it upon the table.<br \/>\n\u00abDon\u2019t make any mistake, Dell,\u00bb he said, \u00ababout me. I don\u2019t think there\u2019s anything in the way of a haircut or a shave or a shampoo that could make me like my girl any less. But if you\u2019ll unwrap that package you may see why you had me going a while at first.\u00bb<br \/>\nWhite fingers tore at the string and paper. And then an ecstatic scream of joy; and then, alas! a quick feminine change to hysterical tears.<br \/>\nFor there lay The Combs\u2013the set of combs, side and back, that Della had worshipped long in a Broadway window. Beautiful combs, pure tortoise shell, with jewelled rims\u2013just the shade to wear in the beautiful vanished hair. They were expensive combs, she knew, and her heart had simply craved and yearned over them without the least hope of possession. And now, they were hers.<br \/>\nBut she hugged them to her bosom, and at length she was able to look up with dim eyes and a smile and say: \u00abMy hair grows so fast, Jim!\u00bb<br \/>\nJim had not yet seen his beautiful present. She held it out to him eagerly upon her open palm. The dull precious metal seemed to flash.<br \/>\n\u00abIsn\u2019t it a dandy, Jim? I hunted all over town to find it. You\u2019ll have to look at the time a hundred times a day now. Give me your watch. I want to see how it looks on it.\u00bb<br \/>\nInstead of obeying, Jim tumbled down on the couch and put his hands under the back of his head and smiled.<br \/>\n\u00abDell,\u00bb said he, \u00ablet\u2019s put our Christmas presents away and keep \u2019em a while. They\u2019re too nice to use just at present. I sold the watch to get the money to buy your combs. And now suppose you put the chops on.\u00bb<br \/>\nThe magi, as you know, were wise men\u2013wonderfully wise men\u2013who brought gifts to the Babe in the manger. They invented the art of giving Christmas presents. And here I have told you the story of two foolish children in a flat who most unwisely sacrificed for each other the greatest treasures of their house. But in a last word to the wise of these days let it be said that of all who give gifts these two were the wisest. Of all who give and receive gifts they are wisest. They are the magi.<\/p>\n<p>https:\/\/vimeo.com\/ismenedk\/thegiftofthemagi<\/p>\n<div class=\"kvgmc6g5 cxmmr5t8 oygrvhab hcukyx3x c1et5uql\">\n<div dir=\"auto\">\u0393\u03c1\u03b1\u03bc\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b7 \u03c0\u03c1\u03b9\u03bd \u03b1\u03c0\u03cc \u03ad\u03bd\u03b1\u03bd \u03b1\u03b9\u03ce\u03bd\u03b1, \u03b7 \u03ba\u03bb\u03b1\u03c3\u03b9\u03ba\u03ae \u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c1\u03af\u03b1 \u03a7\u03c1\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c5\u03b3\u03ad\u03bd\u03bd\u03c9\u03bd \u03c4\u03bf\u03c5 O. Henry \u2018\u03a4\u03bf \u03b4\u03ce\u03c1\u03bf \u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u039c\u03ac\u03b3\u03c9\u03bd\u2019 (The gift of the Magi) \u03b8\u03b1 \u03bc\u03c0\u03bf\u03c1\u03bf\u03cd\u03c3\u03b5 \u03bd\u03b1 \u03b8\u03b5\u03c9\u03c1\u03b7\u03b8\u03b5\u03af \u03c9\u03c2 \u03be\u03b5\u03c0\u03b5\u03c1\u03b1\u03c3\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03b7 \u03bc\u03b5 \u03c4\u03b1 \u03c3\u03b7\u03bc\u03b5\u03c1\u03b9\u03bd\u03ac \u03c0\u03c1\u03cc\u03c4\u03c5\u03c0\u03b1. \u0394\u03cd\u03bf \u03b5\u03c1\u03c9\u03c4\u03b5\u03c5\u03bc\u03ad\u03bd\u03bf\u03b9 \u03bd\u03ad\u03bf\u03b9 \u03c0\u03bf\u03c5\u03bb\u03bf\u03cd\u03bd \u03cc\u03c4\u03b9 \u03c0\u03bf\u03bb\u03c5\u03c4\u03b9\u03bc\u03cc\u03c4\u03b5\u03c1\u03bf \u03ad\u03c7\u03bf\u03c5\u03bd \u03b3\u03b9\u03b1 \u03bd\u03b1 \u03b1\u03b3\u03bf\u03c1\u03ac\u03c3\u03bf\u03c5\u03bd \u03b4\u03ce\u03c1\u03b1 \u03a7\u03c1\u03b9\u03c3\u03c4\u03bf\u03c5\u03b3\u03ad\u03bd\u03bd\u03c9\u03bd \u03bf \u03ad\u03bd\u03b1\u03c2 \u03b3\u03b9\u03b1 \u03c4\u03bf\u03bd 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\u03bb\u03b5\u03b9\u03c4\u03bf\u03c5\u03c1\u03b3\u03b5\u03af \u03bf \u03ba\u03b1\u03c0\u03b9\u03c4\u03b1\u03bb\u03b9\u03c3\u03bc\u03cc\u03c2 \u03c3\u03ae\u03bc\u03b5\u03c1\u03b1, \u03bc\u03b5 \u03c4\u03b9\u03c2 \u03ba\u03bf\u03b9\u03bd\u03c9\u03bd\u03b9\u03ba\u03ad\u03c2 \u03ba\u03b1\u03b9 \u03bf\u03b9\u03ba\u03bf\u03bd\u03bf\u03bc\u03b9\u03ba\u03ad\u03c2 \u03c0\u03b9\u03ad\u03c3\u03b5\u03b9\u03c2 \u03c4\u03b7\u03c2 \u03b5\u03c0\u03bf\u03c7\u03ae\u03c2 \u03c4\u03c9\u03bd \u03b4\u03b9\u03b1\u03ba\u03bf\u03c0\u03ce\u03bd.<\/div>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Thank You, Ma&#8217;am (by Langston Hughes) She was a large woman with a large purse that had everything in it but hammer and nails. It had a long strap, and she carried it slung across her shoulder. It was about eleven o\u2019clock at night, and she was walking alone, when a boy ran up behind [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4380,"featured_media":0,"parent":0,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"","meta":{"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-20","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.e-me.edu.gr\/hive-PARKAROUME\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/20","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.e-me.edu.gr\/hive-PARKAROUME\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.e-me.edu.gr\/hive-PARKAROUME\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.e-me.edu.gr\/hive-PARKAROUME\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4380"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.e-me.edu.gr\/hive-PARKAROUME\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=20"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/blogs.e-me.edu.gr\/hive-PARKAROUME\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/20\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blogs.e-me.edu.gr\/hive-PARKAROUME\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=20"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}