quien me conoce mas

El pueblo donde no había nombres Cuentan que hace mucho tiempo atrás, en una lejana aldea, había personas que no tenían nombres y, para identiﬁcarlas, mencionaban algunas de sus características: —Mira, ahí está el niño del lunar en la nariz —decían los más pequeños. —Ahí viene la señora de la larga cabellera —decían las vecinas. Con el paso del tiempo, el número de habitantes del pueblo fue creciendo; y cada vez se hacía más difícil identificar a las personas. Entonces, la gente empezó a evitar las conversaciones y las visitas.Preocupados, un grupo de pobladores decidió consultar al anciano más sabio del pueblo. Quien les dio está solución: —Que cada familia elija una palabra que los represente y que cada uno de sus integrantes elija para sí mismo una palabra de acuerdo a sus características.Una pareja de esposos dijo: —Nosotros elegimos la palabra “alegría” para que nos represente, porque nos gusta estar siempre sonriendo. Y como muchas veces he cuidado el pueblo con valentía, me pondré Valiente Alegría. —Como a mí me gusta agradecer siempre, me llamaré Gracia Alegría.Después de escuchar a todos, el anciano sentenció: —A la palabra que represente a la familia la llamaremos apellido y a la que represente a cada persona la llamaremos nombre, y para no confundirlas siempre las escribiremos con la letra inicial en mayúscula. Los niños, entusiasmados, que siempre andan imitando a los mayores, decidieron también, ponerle nombre a sus mascotas. Y luego, a todo aquello que veían. De esta manera volvieron a tener esas amables conversaciones de antaño sin tener que enredarse al tratar de identiﬁcarse.Así fue como, gracias al anciano de esa lejana aldea, todos tenemos un nombre y un apellido que nos identiﬁca.

📄 Spanish Preterite Tense & Guatemalan Culture Quiz Grammar (1–15) Yo _____ (hablar) con mi abuela ayer. A. hablé B. hablaba C. habla D. habléste ¿Cuál es la forma correcta de comer en la 3ª persona plural en el pretérito? A. comían B. comieron C. comeron D. comaban Nosotros _____ (vivir) en México por dos años. A. vivimos B. vivíamos C. vivieron D. viviste Tú _____ (jugar) al fútbol el sábado, ¿verdad? A. jugabas B. juegas C. jugaste D. jugasteis ¿Cuál es la forma correcta de buscar en la primera persona singular del pretérito? A. buscé B. busqué C. busco D. buscaba Ellos _____ (almorzar) muy tarde. A. almorzaban B. almorzaron C. almorzaste D. almorzó Yo no _____ (pagar) mucho por este libro. A. pagé B. pagué C. pago D. pagaba ¿Qué forma es correcta para el verbo hacer con "ella" en el pretérito? A. hace B. hizo C. hacía D. hizo Mis amigos y yo _____ (dar) una fiesta el viernes. A. dimos B. daban C. dieron D. dábamos ¿Tú _____ (ver) la película anoche? A. veías B. viste C. vistes D. verás ¿Cuál es la forma correcta de ser en la primera persona del singular en el pretérito? A. soy B. fui C. era D. seré Nosotros _____ (ir) al museo el domingo pasado. A. íbamos B. fuimos C. vamos D. vamos a ir Ella _____ (escribir) una carta a su abuela. A. escribía B. escribió C. escribé D. escribó ¿Cuál es la forma correcta de leer con “ellos” en el pretérito? A. leyeron B. leían C. leyeran D. leíeron Tú no me _____ (dar) el número correcto. A. das B. diste C. dabas D. diste Culture (16–20) ¿Qué son los barriletes gigantes que se ven en Guatemala el 1 y 2 de noviembre? A. Instrumentos musicales tradicionales B. Comidas típicas del Día de Muertos C. Cometas artesanales usadas para honrar a los muertos D. Fuegos artificiales usados en bodas ¿Dónde se celebra principalmente el festival de barriletes gigantes? A. Antigua y Chichicastenango B. Santiago y Sumpango C. Ciudad de Guatemala y Tikal D. Quetzaltenango y Cobán ¿Cuándo ocurrió la Guerra Civil Guatemalteca? A. 1910–1925 B. 1944–1954 C. 1960–1996 D. 1980–2000 ¿Quién es Rigoberta Menchú? A. Una cantante famosa guatemalteca B. Una líder indígena y defensora de los derechos humanos C. Una política que fue presidenta D. Una artista de barriletes ¿Por qué recibió Rigoberta Menchú el Premio Nobel de la Paz? A. Por su música tradicional B. Por su arte textil C. Por su lucha por los derechos de los pueblos indígenas D. Por su carrera política en el congreso

Good evening, Timmy! Do you want to walk with me? Yes, that sounds great! Where are we, Grandpa? We are walking on my favorite trail in the forest. Why do you like this trail? I like it because it has many trees. It’s very quiet. I like the forest too. There are many animals here. Yes, Fuzzy likes it too.

Write simple RCQ for beginners: Good evening, Timmy! Do you want to walk with me? Yes, that sounds great! Where are we, Grandpa? We are walking on my favorite trail in the forest. Why do you like this trail? I like it because it has many trees. It’s very quiet. I like the forest too. There are many animals here. Yes, Fuzzy likes it too.

A Bird and a Cat I have a little blue bird. She lives in a cage in my room. She is a beautiful bird. She likes to sing, and she likes me. But she does not like my cat. She is a happy bird. I enjoy listening to my bird's singing. But when my cat comes in the room, the bird stops singing. She is quiet. She sits and watches the cat. I think she is afraid of the cat.

Lena: Wow, Max! It feels so different in the forest. The air is so fresh! Max: I know! I love the fresh smell of the trees and plants. It’s peaceful here. Lena: And quiet too. Listen... total silence. Max: Yeah, I like the silence. It gives me a sense of calm. Lena: Me too. I also feel a sense of adventure! Let’s explore more! Max: I’m eager to find something cool—like an animal or a cave! Lena: Me too! I’m eager to take pictures for our nature project. Max: Look at those long shadows on the path! The sun is behind the trees. Lena: The shadows make everything look magical. It’s like a fairy tale! Max: Do you think animals have to adapt to the forest? Lena: Yes! They must adapt to the seasons and find food in all weather. Max: I like how animals live with so much freedom here. Lena: Yeah, that freedom to run, fly, and live in the wild is amazing. Max: Nature is awesome. I hope we can help protect the climate too. Lena: Yes, keeping the climate healthy is important for animals—and for us!

The Pedestrian (adapted) by Ray Bradbury Mr. Leonard Mead loved to walk outside at night. The city was quiet at eight o’clock on a misty November evening. He liked to put his hands in his pockets and stroll along the cracked sidewalks, stepping over grass that grew between the concrete. He would stop at the corners, look down the empty streets, and choose which way to go. It didn’t really matter which way he picked, because he was always alone in the year 2053. Sometimes, Mr. Mead would walk for hours and miles, coming home only at midnight. As he walked, he saw houses with their windows dark, like he was walking through a graveyard. Sometimes, he saw tiny flashes of light from behind curtains or heard soft voices from open windows. Mr. Mead wore sneakers so his footsteps wouldn’t make noise. If he wore shoes with hard heels, the dogs would bark and people might look out their windows. He liked being quiet and unnoticed as he walked in the cool November air. On this night, Mr. Mead walked west, toward the sea. The air was cold and frosty, making his nose sting and his lungs feel fresh. He listened to the sound of his shoes in the fallen leaves and sometimes picked up a leaf to look at it under the streetlights. As he walked, he whispered to the houses, “Hello in there. What’s on TV tonight? Where are the cowboys? Is the cavalry coming?” But the street was silent and empty, with only his shadow moving. He checked his watch. “Eight-thirty. Is it time for a quiz show? Or a funny show?” He thought he heard laughter from a house, but nothing else happened. He kept walking, sometimes stumbling over the broken sidewalk. In all his years of walking, he had never seen another person out at night. He reached a big intersection where two highways crossed. During the day, it was full of cars, but now it was empty and quiet, like a dry riverbed. Mr. Mead turned onto a side street, heading home. Suddenly, a police car turned the corner and shined a bright light on him. He stood still, surprised by the light. A metallic voice from the car said, “Stand still. Don’t move! Put up your hands!” Mr. Mead obeyed. The police car asked, “What’s your name?” “Leonard Mead,” he answered. “What’s your job?” “I guess I’m a writer,” Mr. Mead said. The police car replied, “No profession.” Mr. Mead hadn’t written anything in years, since people didn’t buy books or magazines anymore. People just stayed inside their houses, watching TV. The car asked, “What are you doing out?” “I’m walking,” Mr. Mead said. “Walking? Just walking?” the car repeated. “Yes,” he said. “Where are you walking? Why?” “For air. To see things,” Mr. Mead answered. “Your address?” “Eleven South Saint James Street.” “Do you have air in your house? An air conditioner?” “Yes.” “Do you have a TV?” “No.” “No?” The car was quiet for a moment. “Are you married?” “No,” Mr. Mead said. “Not married,” the car said. The night was cold and quiet. “Just walking, Mr. Mead?” “Yes.” “But why?” “I told you. For air, to see, and just to walk.” “Do you do this often?” “Every night for years.” The police car was silent for a moment. Then it said, “Get in.” The back door opened. “Wait, I haven’t done anything!” Mr. Mead protested. “Get in,” the car repeated. Mr. Mead looked into the car. There was no one inside, just an empty front seat. The back seat was like a small jail cell, cold and hard. “Where are you taking me?” he asked. The car answered, “To the Psychiatric Center for Research on Regressive Tendencies.” Mr. Mead got in. The door closed, and the car drove away through the empty streets. As they passed his house, he saw that all the lights were on. “That’s my house,” he said, but no one answered. The car drove off into the night, leaving the streets empty and silent for the rest of the cold November night.

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