What did Rosa Parks do on the bus?

She refused to give up her seat.

What happened after Rosa Parks refused to move from her seat?

The police came and arrested her.

Everyone on the bus cheered for her.

Why did Marissa and her mother choose to walk instead of ride the bus?

Because it was raining outside.

Because they liked walking better.

What did Marissa learn from Rosa Parks' actions?

One person can make a difference.

People shouldn't go to Grandma's house.

Walking is better than riding a bus.

What was the result of people stopping to ride the buses?

Buses became free for everyone.

Riding with Rosa Parks On the Bus. Marissa and her mother were riding the bus. They were on their way to Grandma's house. They had to sit in the back seats. Marissa didn't like the back seats. There was a law that black people had to sit at the back of the bus. Her mother said it was unfair. Some white people came on the bus. So some of the black people stood up and gave them their seats. That was another part of the law. Refusing to Stand. But one black woman didn't stand up. Her name was Rosa Parks. She didn't want to move from her seat. The driver told Rosa she had to move, but she said, "No." Then the driver called the police! The police came and arrested Rosa Parks. Marissa was very confused. Why didn't Rosa Parks get up? Everybody knew the law, even if it wasn't fair. Taking Steps. When other people heard what happened to Rosa, they got very upset. They decided to stop riding the city buses! Marissa asked her mom why they had to walk. Her mother said people stopped riding the buses to show that the law was unfair. For a long time they walked everywhere. Marissa's legs were sometimes very tired. Still, they didn't ride the bus. Making a Difference. Finally, an amazing thing happened. The law was changed! Marissa and her mom could now sit at the front of the bus. Marissa learned that one person could make a difference. She learned people could join together to change things. Today, people of all colors in the United States have the same rights. It all started with one woman saying no to something that was unfair.

She went by the name of Belisa Crepusculario, not because she had been baptized with that name or given it by her mother, but because she herself had searched until she found the poetry of "beauty" and "twilight" and cloaked herself in it. She made her living selling words. She journeyed through the country from the high cold mountains to the burning coasts, stopping at fairs and in markets where she set up four poles covered by a canvas awning under which she took refuge from the sun and rain to minister to her customers. She did not have to peddle her merchandise because from having wandered far and near, everyone knew who she was. Some people waited for her from one year to the next, and when she appeared in the village with her bundle beneath her arm, they would form a line in front of her stall. Her prices were fair. For five centavos she delivered verses from memory, for seven she improved the quality of dreams, for nine she wrote love letters, for twelve she invented insults for irreconcilable enemies. She also sold stories, not fantasies but long, true stories she recited at one telling, never skipping a word. This is how she carried news from one town to another. People paid her to add a line or two: our son was born, so-and-so died, our children got married, the crops burned in the field. Wherever she went a small crowd gathered around to listen as she began to speak, and that was how they learned about each others' doings, about distant relatives, about what was going on in the civil war. To anyone who paid her fifty centavos in trade, she gave the gift of a secret word to drive away melancholy. It was not the same word for everyone, naturally, because that would have been collective dece it. Each person received his or her own word, with the assurance that no one else would use it that way in this universe or the Beyond. Belisa Crepusculario had been born into a family so poor they did not even have names to give their children. She came into the world and grew up in an inhospitable land where some years the rains became avalanches of water that bore everything away before them and others when not a drop fell from the sky and the sun swelled to fill the horizon and the world became a desert. Until she was twelve, Belisa had no occupation or virtue other than having withstood hunger and the exhaustion of centuries. During one interminable drought, it fell to her to bury four younger brothers and sisters, when she realized that her turn was next, she decided to set out across the 2 plains in the direction of the sea, in hopes that she might trick death along the way. The land was eroded, split with deep cracks, strewn with rocks, fossils of trees and thorny bushes, and skeletons of animals bleached by the sun. From time to time she ran into families who, like her, were heading south, following the mirage of water. Some had begun the march carrying their belongings on their back or in small carts, but they could barely move their own bones, and after a while they had to abandon their possessions. They dragged themselves along painfully, their skin turned to lizard hide and their eyes burned by the reverberating glare. Belisa greeted them with a wave as she passed, but she did not stop, because she had no strength to waste in acts of compassion. Many people fell by the wayside, but she was so stubborn that she survived to cross through that hell and at long last reach the first trickles of water, fine, almost invisible threads that fed spindly vegetation and farther down widened into small streams and marshes. Belisa Crepusculario saved her life and in the process accidentally discovered writing. In a village near the coast, the wind blew a page of newspaper at her feet. She picked up the brittle yellow paper and stood a long while looking at it, unable to determine its purpose, until curiosity overcame her shyness. She walked over to a man who was washing his horse in the muddy pool where she had quenched her thirst. "What is this?" she asked. "The sports page of the newspaper," the man replied, concealing his surprise at her ignorance. The answer astounded the girl, but she did not want to seem rude, so she merely inquired about the significance of the fly tracks scattered across the page. "Those are words, child. Here it says that Fulgencio Barba knocked out El Negro Tiznao in the third round." That was the day Belisa Crepusculario found out that words make their way in the world without a master, and that anyone with a little cleverness can appropriate them and do business with them. She made a quick assessment of her situation and concluded that aside from becoming a prostitute or working as a servant in the kitchens of the rich there were few occupations she was qualified for. It seemed to her that selling words would be an honorable alternative. From that moment on, she worked at that profession, and was never tempted by any other. At the beginning, she offered her merchandise unaware that words could be written outside of newspapers. When she learned otherwise, she calculated the infinite possibilities of her trade and with her savings paid a priest twenty pesos to teach her to read and write, with her three 3 remaining coins she bought a dictionary. She poured over it from A to Z and then threw it into the sea, because it was not her intention to defraud her customers with packaged words. One August morning several years later, Belisa Crepusculario was sitting in her tent in the middle of a plaza, surrounded by the uproar of market day, selling legal arguments to an old man who had been trying for sixteen years to get his pension. Suddenly she heard yelling and thudding hoofbeats. She looked up from her writing and saw, first, a cloud of dust, and then a band of horsemen come galloping into the plaza. They were the Colonel's men, sent under orders of El Mulato, a giant known throughout the land for the speed of his knife and his loyalty to his chief. Both the Colonel and El Mulato had spent their lives fighting in the civil war, and their names were ineradicably linked to devastation and calamity. The rebels swept into town like a stampeding herd, wrapped in noise, bathed in sweat, and leaving a hurricane of fear in their trail. Chickens took wing, dogs ran for their lives, women and children scurried out of sight, until the only living soul left in the market was Belisa Crepusculario. She had never seen El Mulato and was surprised to see him walking toward her. "I'm looking for you," he shouted, pointing his coiled whip at her, even before the words were out, two men rushed her -- knocking over her canopy and shattering her inkwell -- bound her hand and foot, and threw her like a sea bag across the rump of El Mulato's mount. Then they thundered off toward the hills. Hours later, just as Belisa Crepusculario was near death, her heart ground to sand by the pounding of the horse, they stopped, and four strong hands set her down. She tried to stand on her feet and hold her head high, but her strength failed her and she slumped to the ground, sinking into a confused dream. She awakened several hours later to the murmur of night in the camp, but before she had time to sort out the sounds, she opened her eyes and found herself staring into the impatient glare of El Mulato, kneeling beside her. "Well, woman, at last you've come to," he said. To speed her to her senses, he tipped his canteen and offered her a sip of liquor laced with gunpowder. She demanded to know the reason for such rough treatment, and El Mulato explained that the Colonel needed her services. He allowed her to splash water on her face, and then led her to the far end of the camp where the most feared man in all the land was lazing in a hammock strung between two trees. She could not see his face, because he lay in the deceptive shadow of the leaves and the indelible shadow of all his years as a bandit, but she imagined from the way his 4 gigantic aide addressed him with such humility that he must have a very menacing expression. She was surprised by the Colonel's voice, as soft and well-modulated as a professor's. "Are you the woman who sells words?" he asked. "At your service," she stammered, peering into the dark and trying to see him better. The Colonel stood up, and turned straight toward her. She saw dark skin and the eyes of a ferocious puma, and she knew immediately that she was standing before the loneliest man in the world. "I want to be President," he announced. The Colonel was weary of riding across that godforsaken land, waging useless wars and suffering defeats that no subterfuge could transform into victories. For years he had been sleeping in the open air, bitten by mosquitoes, eating iguanas and snake soup, but those minor inconveniences were not why he wanted to change his destiny. What truly troubled him was the terror he saw in people's eyes. He longed to ride into a town beneath a triumphal arch with bright flags and flowers everywhere, he wanted to be cheered, and be given newly laid eggs and freshly baked bread. Men fled at the sight of him, children trembled, and women miscarried from fright, he had had enough, and so he had decided to become President. El Mulato had suggested that they ride to the capital, gallop up to the Palace, and take over the government, the way they had taken so many other things without anyone's permission. The Colonel, however, did not want to be just another tyrant, there had been enough of those before him and, besides, if he did that, he would never win people's hearts. It was his aspiration to win the popular vote in the December elections. "To do that, I have to talk like a candidate. Can you sell me the words for a speech?" the Colonel asked Belisa Crepusculario. She had accepted many assignments, but none like this. She did not dare refuse, fearing that El Mulato would shoot her between the eyes, or worse still, that the Colonel would burst into tears. There was more to it than that, however, she felt the urge to help him because she felt a throbbing warmth beneath her skin, a powerful desire to touch that man, to fondle him, to clasp him in her arms. All night and a good part of the following day, Belisa Crepusculario searched her repertory for words adequate for a presidential speech, closely watched by El Mulato, who could not take his eyes from her firm wanderer's legs and virginal breasts. She discarded harsh, cold words, words 5 that were too flowery, words worn from abuse, words that offered improbable promises, untruthful and confusing words, until all she had left were words sure to touch the minds of men and women's intuition. Calling upon the knowledge she had purchased from the priest for twenty pesos, she wrote the speech on a sheet of paper and then signaled El Mulato to untie the rope that bound her ankles to a tree. He led her once more to the Colonel, and again she felt the throbbing anxiety that had seized her when she first saw him. She handed him the paper and waited while he looked at it, holding it gingerly between thumbs and fingertips. "What the shit does this say," he asked finally. "Don't you know how to read?" "War's what I know," he replied. She read the speech aloud. She read it three times, so her client could engrave it on his memory. When she finished, she saw the emotion in the faces of the soldiers who had gathered round to listen, and saw that the Colonel's eyes glittered with enthusiasm, convinced that with those words the presidential chair would be his. "If after they've heard it three times, the boys are still standing there with their mouths hanging open, it must mean the thing's damn good, Colonel" was El Mulato's approval. "All right, woman. How much do I owe you?" the leader asked. "One peso, Colonel." "That's not much," he said, opening the pouch he wore at his belt, heavy with proceeds from the last foray. "The peso entitles you to a bonus. I'm going to give you two secret words," said Belisa Crepusculario. "What for?" She explained that for every fifty centavos a client paid, she gave him the gift of a word for his exclusive use. The Colonel shrugged. He had no interest at all in her offer, but he did not want to be impolite to someone who had served him so well. She walked slowly to the leather stool where he was sitting, and bent down to give him her gift. The man smelled the scent of a mountain cat issuing from the woman, a fiery heat radiating from her hips, he heard the terrible whisper of her hair, and a breath of sweetmint murmured into his ear the two secret words that were his alone. "They are yours, Colonel," she said as she stepped back. "You may use them as much as you 6 please." El Mulato accompanied Belisa to the roadside, his eyes as entreating as a stray dog's, but when he reached out to touch her, he was stopped by an avalanche of words he had never heard before; believing them to be an irrevocable curse, the flame of his desire was extinguished. During the months of September, October, and November the Colonel delivered his speech so many times that had it not been crafted from glowing and durable words it would have turned to ash as he spoke. He travelled up and down and across the country, riding into cities with a triumphal air, stopping in even the most forgotten villages where only the dump heap betrayed a human presence, to convince his fellow citizens to vote for him. While he spoke from a platform erected in the middle of the plaza, El Mulato and his men handed out sweets and painted his name on all the walls in gold frost. No one paid the least attention to those advertising ploys; they were dazzled by the clarity of the Colonel's proposals and the poetic lucidity of his arguments, infected by his powerful wish to right the wrongs of history, happy for the first time in their lives. When the Candidate had finished his speech, his soldiers would fire their pistols into the air and set off firecrackers, and when finally they rode off, they left behind a wake of hope that lingered for days on the air, like the splendid memory of a comet's tail. Soon the Colonel was the favorite. No one had ever witnessed such a phenomenon: a man who surfaced from the civil war, covered with scars and speaking like a professor, a man whose fame spread to every corner of the land and captured the nation's heart. The press focused their attention on him. Newspapermen came from far away to interview him and repeat his phrases, and the number of his followers and enemies continued to grow. "We're doing great, Colonel," said El Mulato, after twelve successful weeks of campaigning. But the Candidate did not hear. He was repeating his secret words, as he did more and more obsessively. He said them when he was mellow with nostalgia; he murmured them in his sleep; he carried them with him on horseback; he thought them before delivering his famous speech; and he caught himself savoring them in his leisure time. And every time he thought of those two words, he thought of Belisa Crepusculario, and his senses were inflamed with the memory of her feral scent, her fiery heat, the whisper of her hair, and her sweetmint breath in his ear, until he began to go around like a sleepwalker, and his men realized that he might die before he ever sat in the presidential chair. "What's got hold of you, Colonel," El Mulato asked so often that finally one day his chief broke 7 down and told him the source of his befuddlement: those two words that were buried like two daggers in his gut. "Tell me what they are and maybe they'll lose their magic," his faithful aide suggested. "I can't tell them, they're for me alone," the Colonel replied. Saddened by watching his chief decline like a man with a death sentence on his head, El Mulato slung his rifle over his shoulder and set out to find Belisa Crepusculario. He followed her trail through all that vast country, until he found her in a village in the far south, sitting under her tent reciting her rosary of news. He planted himself, spraddle-legged, before her, weapon in hand. "You! You're coming with me," he ordered. She had been waiting. She picked up her inkwell, folded the canvas of her small stall, arranged her shawl around her shoulders, and without a word took her place behind El Mulato's saddle. They did not exchange so much as a word in all the trip; El Mulato's desire for her had turned into rage, and only his fear of her tongue prevented his cutting her to shreds with his whip. Nor was he inclined to tell her that the Colonel was in a fog, and that a spell whispered into his ear had done what years of battle had not been able to do. Three days later they arrived at the encampment, and immediately, in view of all the troops, El Mulato led his prisoner before the Candidate. "I brought this witch here so you can give her back her words, Colonel," El Mulato said, pointing the barrel of his rifle at the woman's head. "And then she can give you back your manhood." The Colonel and Belisa Crepusculario stared at each other, measuring one another from a distance. The men knew then that their leader would never undo the witchcraft of those accursed words, because the whole world could see the voracious-puma eyes soften as the woman walked to him and took his hand in hers. Copyright © 1989 by Isabel Allende From The Stories of Eva Luna, Translated by Margaret Sayers Peden

Vocab review Bike path: special route for riding bikes, Campground: place where you can go camping on vacationRoad trip: a long journey or vacation in a vehicleSunbathing: sitting / lying in the sun. unscramble or match the word with its definition

Bonk's New Bike Bonk has dreams about the bike he wants. It is red with cool handlebars and spokes. Bonk sees the bike on TV. He sees it in the newspaper, too. He opens his monster bank. He has only five pennies. "I have to earn enough money for my new bike," says Bonk. "I will start a dog walking business," he says. He goes door to door asking people if he can walk their dogs. "Can we help walk dogs, too?" asks Jupe. "I'll do it by myself," Bonk says. "I'm saving my money for a new bike." Soon, Bonk's phone begins to ring. People knock on his door. They all want Bonk to walk their dogs! "This will be a fun and easy way to earn money," Bonk says. On Saturday, Bonk picks up each dog. There are big dogs, little dogs. fancy dogs, and plain dogs. The dogs are barking, jumping, and running around. Bonk gets all their leashes together and begins to walk. One dog tangles up his leash. Another dog rolls in the mud. Another dog chases a cat! "This is not fun!" Bonk says. "It is not easy either!" Lurk, Uzzle, and Jupe ride their scooters past Bonk. "Do you want some help now. Bonk?" Jupe asks. Bonk gives each of the monsters a dog to walk. When they are finished walking. the dog owners pay the monsters. "I'm sorry I said you couldn't help with the dog walking," says Bonk. "I couldn't have done it without you." Jupe, Lurk, and Uzzle talk. They give their money to Bonk. "This is for your new bike," says Jupe. "But you earned this money, too," says Bonk. "We want something other than money," says Lurk. "Anything you want," Bonk says. "When you get your new bike, we want to take turns riding it!" says Jupe. "It's a deal!" says Bonk.

Rent a Llama When Marcos slept, he dreamed. He dreamed of Ecuador. He dreamed of riding among sheep and llamas. When Marcos woke, he worried. Life was so different in America. Would it ever feel like home? Marcos's mother worried, too. She wanted him to be happy. "Marcos, today is your class trip to a ranch," she said one morning. Marcos said, "We used to live on a ranch, Mamá." "An American ranch will be different," she said. "Yes, just like everything else here," Marcos sighed. When Marcos got to school, he saw students excited about the trip. Mr. Perkins chose seat partners for the bus ride. Marcos sat with a boy named Ben. "Have you ever been to a ranch?" asked Ben. "Only in Ecuador," Marcos replied. "I go to this ranch every week to care for Mabel," said Ben. Marcos asked, "Who is Mabel?" "You'll see," said Ben. Soon they arrived at the ranch. The class met Ms. Vega, the owner. "Hello, everyone," said Ms. Vega. "And hi there, Ben," she added. Everyone looked at Ben. How did Ms. Vega know him? "Ben takes care of Mabel, one of our cows," said Ms. Vega. "I am in City to Farm," Ben explained. "It is a club where grownups help city kids learn about farms," he added. Ben continued, "I want to learn about cows, but I live in an apartment." "I can't keep a cow there," he joked. The class laughed. Ben added, "Ms. Vega rents Mabel to me for free, and I care for her." "Let's meet Mabel," said Ms. Vega. Ben led the class into a large barn with many stalls. When Marcos looked around, he got a surprise. In the second stall was a llama. Marcos spoke softly to the animal in Spanish. The llama stretched its long neck toward Marcos as if it understood. Marcos stroked its fur. Ms. Vega watched Marcos. "Do you like Ilamas?" she asked. Marcos nodded. "Sí. I mean, yes," he replied shyly. "My grandfather had llamas in Ecuador," he added. "Расо сame from Ecuador, too," said Ms. Vega. She smiled and asked, "Would you like to help care for him?" "Like Ben takes care of Mabel?" Marcos asked. Ms. Vega said, "Exactly." Marcos's heart sang. Ranches were different herebut llamas were the same!

When this lady died I descended like real estate in fee simple to her son Benjamin Stiles, Esq[uire]. About four years after her death, her two sons, Benjamin and David, were drafted to fight in the revolution. I also entered the banners of freedom. Alas! Poor African Slave, to liberate freemen, my tyrants. I had contemplated going to Barbados to avenge myself and my country… I went into Capt. [Samuel] Granger’s company, from hence I was drafted into Capt. [Samuel] Barker’s company of light infantry… ...I suddenly discovered a man riding up to me not more than eight rods distant on full speed with a pistol in his hand and ordered me to lay down my arms [weapons]... He said I must surrender to him who demanded me in the name of the King his majesty of Great Britain. I then plainly told him that neither him or his King’s majesty would get my arms unless he took them by force. He immediately cocked his pistol and fired. I fell flat upon the ground in order to dodge his ball… ...Finally, I was in the battles at Cambridge, White Plains, Monmouth, Princeton, Newark, Frog’s Point, Horseneck where I had a ball pass through my knapsack. All which battles the reader can obtain a more perfect account of in history than I can give. At last we returned to West Point and were discharged [1783], as the war was over. Thus was I, a slave for five years fighting for liberty. ...After we were disbanded, I returned to my old master at Woodbury [Connecticut], with whom I lived one year, my services in the American war having emancipated me from further slavery and from being bartered or sold. My master consented that I might go where I pleased and seek my fortune. Hearing flattering accounts of the new state of Vermont, I left Woodbury and travelled as far as the town of Lenox in Massachusetts, where for the first time I made a bargain as a freeman for labor. I let [hired] myself to a Mr. Elisha Orsborn for one month at the price of five dollars. When I had fulfilled this contract, I travelled to the town of Poltney in Vermont. There again I let myself to a Mr. Abiel Parker for the sum of thirteen pounds ten shillings, for six months. Here I enjoyed the pleasures of a freeman; my food was sweet, my labor pleasure: and one bright gleam of life seemed to shine upon me.

Taking Care of Pepper Have you ever been on a farm? Jack lives on a farm. He has a horse named Pepper. Jack helps take care of Pepper. Looking after a horse is a big job. A horse has many needs. There are a lot of things a horse must have to live. Every morning, Jack wakes up at 5:00 a.m. He and his father go to Pepper's stall. The stall keeps Pepper safe from bad weather and other dangers. When Pepper sees Jack, the horse gets excited. Jack smiles when the horse gets all worked up. First, Jack gives Pepper hay to eat. While Pepper eats, Jack cleans Pepper's stall. He shovels out the dirty hay and sawdust. Then he puts down fresh padding. Next, Jack strokes Pepper's brown coat and it feels smooth. Then Jack leaves to go to school. But his work is not done! At 3:00 p.m., Jack rides the bus back home. He has a snack and does his homework. Next, his mother gives him an apple for Pepper. Then they go to visit Pepper. Jack and his mom find Pepper in a field. Pepper is allowed to roam. He can walk all around the field. He was drinking after having wandered the field. All that walking here and there made Pepper thirsty! Now it is time for Pepper's exercise. In the wild, horses run many hours a day. But Pepper does not live out in nature. Jack must make sure Pepper gets the exercise he needs. Jack puts the saddle on Pepper. He places the bit in Pepper's mouth. Mom does the same thing with her horse, and they ride horses together. When they are finished riding, Jack grooms Pepper. He brushes his mane, tail, and fur. Finally, Jack gives Pepper more hay and refills his water bucket. "See you in the morning," Jack says. Pepper nods his head as if to say, "Yes, I'll be waiting!"

WHAT DOES THE WORLD GAIN WHEN WE PROTECT TIGERS? Tigers are one of the world’s most recognized animals. Throughout history they can be seen in cultural traditions across Asia, as well as in brand images and logos the world over. But while they might be omnipresent across our cultural landscape, their actual existence in the wild has been dramatically reduced to only a few pockets of their historical range. Wild tigers are now found in just 10 countries, their historical range shrunk by over 95%.er / WWF-US If tigers completely disappeared, we’d be losing so much more than an iconic species… Protecting water sources for millions of people Tiger habitats overlap nine of Asia’s most important watersheds which supply water to more than 800 million people. Protecting these tiger forests is the most cost-effective way to prevent droughts, reduce flooding, and limit the impacts of climate change. Protected Areas are proven to reduce deforestation and across Asia tigers are the driving force behind creating and effectively managing protected areas. For example, India recently declared its 51st Tiger Reserve, Srivilliputhur Megamalai, in southern India and this new protected area will safeguard more than 1,000km2 of key river habitat. Lose tigers, and lose entire forests Here in Cambodia, where I photographed the country’s last wild tiger in November 2007, tiger spirits were used by indigenous communities to help regulate the management of forests and wildlife. Harvesting of valuable plants was only permitted in certain times of the year and only after the tiger spirits had been appeased. Failure to adhere would result in wild tigers stalking you in the forest. However, with the extinction of the tiger the spirits have vanished, and the forests become an open free-for-all.aysia / Lau Ching Fong Protecting tigers also protects a multitude of other species Tiger-protected areas save much of Asia’s amazing wildlife. Take, for example, India’s Manas Tiger Reserve in Assam where tiger populations are increasing. In addition to tigers the grasslands and forests of Manas Tiger Reserve support the only viable global population of the world’s smallest, and rarest pig –pygmy hog – and, my personal favorite, the Bengal florican. This critically endangered gamebird, which I studied for my doctorate, finds a mate with an elaborate display involving males shooting themselves into the sky before plummeting down kicking their legs as if riding a bicycle. Without tigers, these and many more species would not be as well protected. A cultural and spiritual icon for millions There are plenty of examples of mythical animals, such as the unicorn, and extinct creatures, like the dodo and dinosaurs, which remain part of international consciousness. Tigers are a global phenomenon, but unless conservation is successful, they will only be known in zoos or in cultural media. A world without tigers would be economically and spiritually a much poorer place. Let us continue focusing our efforts towards doubling wild tigers and ensuring that this species does not become a vanished cultural icon.

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