From That Moment On, The World Was

There Is Here, What Is Not In The Old Country. In Spite Of Hard, Unfamiliar Things, There Is Here - Hope. In The Old Country, A Man Can Be No More Than His Father, Providing He Works Hard. If His Father Was A Carpenter, He May Be A Carpenter. He Many Not Be A Teacher Or A Priest. He May Rise - But Only To His Father's State. In The Old Country, A Man Is Given To The Past. Here He Belongs To The Future. In This Land, He May Be What He Will, If He Has The Good Heart And The Way Of Working Honestly At The Right Things.

She Was Surprised At How Tiny It Seemed Now. She Supposed The School Was Just As Big As It Had Ever Been Only Her Eyes Had Grown Used To Looking At Bigger Things.

Suffering Is Also Good, It Makes A Person Rich In Charachter.

Mother, I Am Young. Mother, I Am Just Eighteen. I Am Strong. I Will Work Hard, Mother. But I Do Not Want This Child To Grow Up Just To Work Hard. What Must I Do, Mother, What Must I Do To Make A Different World For Her? How Do I Start?" "the Secret Lies In The Reading And The Writing. You Are Able To Read. Every Day You Must Read One Page From Some Good Book To Your Child. Every Day This Must Be Until The Child Learns To Read. Then She Must Read Every Day, I Know This Is The Secret

No Matter Where Its Seed Fell, It Made A Tree Which Struggled To Reach The Sky. It Grew In Boarded-up Lots And Out Of Neglected Rubbish Heaps, And It Was The Only Tree That Grew Out Of Cement. It Grew Lushly, But Only In The Tenements Districts.... That Was The Kind Of Tree It Was. It Liked Poor People.