what is my job | Quizalize

Broken windows are covered. Floorboards are patched and doors screwed back on. The road that was ruined by German tanks is shovelled and raked smooth. Boot-shaped bruises turn yellow then fade and disappear. Flowers grow and spread across the ugly German footprints stomped into garden beds. The village looks pretty once more. School stops for the summer and everyone is put to work on the kolkhoz, the village farm. Women and big boys begin harvesting the barley crops in the outer fields. The biggest girls milk the cows, morning and night, and keep the barns clean. Old Nikolay mends ploughs, horse harnesses, pitchforks and scythes in his workshop. Anna Pushinka teaches Yelena and her friends how to get the honey from the beehives that are scattered through the orchards. I am in charge of collecting eggs. My friends Olga and Nina help. Olga and Nina are five, a year younger than me. They are twins and look exactly alike, except Nina’s nose is a little bit crooked from when she fell out of bed and squashed it sideways on the floor. The hens, ducks and geese wander free in the summer, so collecting eggs is like a treasure hunt and takes hours. Catching the hens for their daily hugs takes even longer, but I think it’s important because hugs make everyone happy and happy hens lay bigger eggs. Olga says I’m the best hen-hugger in all of Russia. Nina says I’ll be the best cow-hugger, too, when my arms grow longer. But good hugs have nothing to do with the size of your arms. It’s all to do with the size of your heart. When we are done with the hens, Olga, Nina and I can spend the rest of the day doing whatever we like. We climb the apricot trees, chase squirrels, lie in the meadow marvelling at how hot Ushanka’s black fur becomes in the sunshine, make daisy chains and race little boats of bark in the stream. I teach Olga and Nina the alphabet and we use charcoal to write our letters and our names all over the village – on doors and walls and the freshly cut ends of firewood. In between, I practise my knots. In case the German princemonsters return. I slip into Old Nikolay’s workshop and tie knots in the harnesses hanging on the walls. I wander into gardens where the washing is hung out to dry and tie knots in the laces on pants and smocks. I creep up behind Anna Pushinka and tie knots in her apron strings. I find baling twine in the hay shed and tie my own ankles together. I do such a good job of these last knots that I can’t get them undone. I have to jump all the way to Olga and Nina’s house and ask them to cut me free with their mama’s knife. At the end of each day, Ushanka and I run out into the distant barley fields to meet Mama. This is my favourite part of the day, because Mama always shouts, ‘Little Rabbit!’ and smothers my head with kisses. And as we walk home, we sing. Everyone – women, big boys and me. I love to sing. Almost as much as I love to be kissed by Mama. Sometimes one of the boys, Mikhail, has his balalaika with him. He takes the instrument out from beneath the sheaves of barley piled high on the wagon and plays music. We sing about forests and orchards and people who find their true love. As we walk home, arm in arm, my heart fills with happiness and my belly swells with pride that I am allowed to sing along with the big boys. And I can almost forget about the German prince-monsters and their lies about Russia and their big ugly boots. Almost. But today, when Mikhail reaches for his balalaika, I see other things hiding beneath the barley sheaves. Three of the mamas rush forward and cover them up, but it’s too late. I know they are there. I’ve already seen them. Rifles. Lots of rifles. Mikhail hugs his balalaika to his chest and blushes. ‘So play!’ cries Mama, her voice oddly loud and high. ‘Let’s play Sasha’s favourite song, “The Little Birch Tree”.’ So Mikhail plays and everyone sings about the lovely birch tree with its curly leaves and the branches that will be turned into silver flutes. They sing too quickly, too loudly, and as they sing and walk, they cast nervous sideways glances at me. ‘It’s alright,’ I say, when the song comes to an end. ‘I didn’t see the rifles.’ Mama nods and smiles, and I know it was the right thing to say. But I did see the rifles. And I think about Yelena wanting to get lots of guns and dynamite for the Partisans so they can shoot the Germans and blow them into thousands of tiny pieces, and Mama looking as though she agreed, and I know this is what the mamas and the big boys are doing. As well as harvesting, they are helping the Partisans. Three days later, I wake before dawn and I am all alone. Yelena is always here beside me when I wake. But not this morning. I climb down from our bed above the stove. Mama is filling a cloth sack with bread. She ties it closed with a piece of string and hands it to Yelena. ‘Stay out of sight,’ says Mama. ‘And don’t return until after dark.’ ‘Where’s she going?’ I ask. ‘Nowhere,’ snaps Mama. ‘Then why does she need all that bread?’ I ask. ‘There’s nothing left for us.’ Mama baked four loaves last night and she has stuffed them all into the sack. Yelena opens her mouth, but before she can speak, Mama shoves her out the door and sends her on the way to nowhere. Mama turns and stares at me, her blue, blue cornflower eyes wide with worry. ‘I know,’ I say, flopping down on the bench. ‘I didn’t see any bread.’ Mama sits beside me and takes my hand. ‘And . . .?’ she prods, obviously waiting for more. I puzzle for a while, then say, ‘And I don’t have a sister called Yelena.’ Mama laughs, softly and with a little bit of sadness around the edges. ‘Sweet Little Rabbit! You do have a sister called Yelena.’ ‘I do?’ I ask, now confused. ‘I haven’t seen the rifles or the bread, but I have seen Yelena?’ ‘Yes.’ Mama smiles and the magic makes me smile, too. And I am glad that Yelena is real because I love her very much. ‘Yelena is real,’ Mama explains, ‘but she does not carry sacks of bread into the forest for the Partisans.’ ‘Of course not!’ I shout, slapping my forehead. ‘Because there is no bread!’ Mama laughs loudly now, with not a hint of sadness. She hugs me, pressing me against her warm, loving heart, covering my head with kisses. ‘Clever Little Rabbit,’ she murmurs, and then, in barely a whisper, ‘Your papa would be so proud.’ When I wake the next morning, Yelena is sleeping beside me, her mouth open, her braided hair unravelling. Mama is serving kasha to a strange woman seated at our table. I crawl down from above the stove and slide along the bench beside her. I stare at her pants, her tunic, the rope she is using as a belt and her big boots. She’s dressed like a man! And there’s a rifle leaning against the wall near the door. ‘Hello,’ I say. ‘I’m Sasha.’ The woman doesn’t reply. She just shovels down her kasha. I line my four wooden bears along the table in front of her bowl and say, ‘These are my bears: Big Bear, Medium Bear, Little Bear and Even Littler Bear.’ ‘Hello, Sasha. Hello, bears.’ She smiles but she doesn’t tell me her name. ‘Why are you dressed like a man?’ I ask, tugging at the sleeve of her tunic. ‘Because men’s clothes make it easier to run and climb and crawl and shoot,’ she says. ‘You’re a Partisan!’ I gasp. ‘But she’s not real,’ says Mama, placing a bowl of kasha before me. ‘Is the kasha real?’ I ask. Mama laughs. ‘Yes, Little Rabbit.’ I’m glad the food is real, because I’m hungry. But I’m disappointed that the woman is not real. I was going to ask if I could use her rope-belt to tie her ankles together. For practice. But if she’s not real, then the rope and her ankles aren’t either. The woman finishes her kasha, hangs her rifle over her shoulder, kisses Mama on the cheek then slips out the door. I run to the window to watch her leave, but by the time I get there, she’s gone. Vanished. ‘Because she’s not real,’ I whisper. A week later, Mama and I are working in the garden. We sing as we weed between the flowers and pluck caterpillars from the vegetables. Anna Pushinka is picking strawberries in her garden and wanders over. ‘Taste these,’ she says, holding out the basket. Mama reaches in and takes out a fat strawberry and a tiny piece of folded paper. The strawberry goes into her mouth, the paper into her pocket. ‘What’s on the paper?’ I ask. ‘Paper?’ Anna Pushinka replies with a wave of her hand. ‘Goodness, Sasha! Who has money for paper? These are lean times. We must choose between paper for writing and noodles for our soup. And I always choose noodles.’ She chuckles and I know the paper is yet another thing that is not real. That night, Mama slips the paper to Yelena, but she drops it on the floor. I pick it up for her, and I see that there are tiny words and numbers written all over it. I wish I could read better. I’m desperate to know what it says. Or rather, what it doesn’t say, because it’s not real. Later, when Mama has tucked us into our bed above the stove and Ushanka has wrapped herself around the top of my head, I ask Yelena, ‘What’s on the paper?’ ‘What paper?’ says Yelena. ‘The paper that isn’t real,’ I reply. Yelena stares at me, nibbling her lip, then whispers, ‘A message for the Partisans. Stuff about where the Germans have their headquarters and when their trains are travelling and where they store their ammunition.’ ‘Why?’ ‘So the Partisans can blow them up.’ Yelena grabs my arm. ‘But don’t tell anyone. It’s a secret.’ ‘What’s a secret?’ I ask. ‘The message.’ ‘What message?’ I say, my eyes wide. Yelena laughs. ‘Good boy, Sasha.’ My belly swells with pride. I know how to play this game. ‘How are your knots coming along?’ asks Yelena. ‘Good! Yesterday, I crept into the dairy and tied knots in the apron strings of all the girls who were milking and only one of them noticed. Today, I tied Olga’s ankles together with Mama’s embroidery thread and just now, while you were taking a bath, I tied the sleeves of your blouse together in an enormous knot.’ Yelena rolls her eyes, then says, ‘I’ll see if I can find you some rope for practising.’ ‘Practising what?’ I ask. ‘Your knots,’ she says. ‘What knots?’ Yelena, my big sister who is twelve and always serious t

Nam: Hello, Minh. Minh: Hi, Nam. How are you? I’m going to play football at our school sports field with a few friends this evening. Are you free to join us? Nam: I’d love to, but I’m afraid I can’t. I’m preparing dinner. Minh: Really? Doesn’t your mum cook? Nam: Oh, yes. My mum usually does the cooking, but she’s working late today. Minh: How about your sister, Lan? Does she help with the housework? Nam: Yes. She often helps with the cooking. But she can’t help today. She’s studying for her exams. Minh: I see. I never do the cooking. It’s my mother’s job. Nam: Really? So how do you divide the household chores in your family? Minh: Mum is the homemaker, so she does the chores. My dad is the breadwinner; he earns money. And we, the kids, study. Nam: Well, in my family, we divide the housework equally – Mum usually cooks and shops for groceries; Dad cleans the house and does the heavy lifting. Minh: What about you and your sister? Nam: My sister does the laundry. I do the washing-up and put out the rubbish. We also help with the cooking when our mum is busy. Minh: That sounds fair! Anyway, I have to go now. See you later. Nam: Bye. Have fun.

Create MCQs from this text "For as long as we can remember, innovation has been a top priority—and a top frustration—for leaders. In a recent McKinsey poll, 84% of global executives reported that innovation was extremely important to their growth strategies, but a staggering 94% were dissatisfied with their organizations’ innovation performance. Most people would agree that the vast majority of innovations fall far short of ambitions. On paper, this makes no sense. Never have businesses known more about their customers. Thanks to the big data revolution, companies now can collect an enormous variety and volume of customer information, at unprecedented speed, and perform sophisticated analyses of it. Many firms have established structured, disciplined innovation processes and brought in highly skilled talent to run them. Most firms carefully calculate and mitigate innovations’ risks. From the outside, it looks as if companies have mastered a precise, scientific process. But for most of them, innovation is still painfully hit-or-miss. What has gone so wrong? The fundamental problem is, most of the masses of customer data companies create is structured to show correlations: This customer looks like that one, or 68% of customers say they prefer version A to version B. While it’s exciting to find patterns in the numbers, they don’t mean that one thing actually caused another. And though it’s no surprise that correlation isn’t causality, we suspect that most managers have grown comfortable basing decisions on correlations. Why is this misguided? Consider the case of one of this article’s coauthors, Clayton Christensen. He’s 64 years old. He’s six feet eight inches tall. His shoe size is 16. He and his wife have sent all their children off to college. He drives a Honda minivan to work. He has a lot of characteristics, but none of them has caused him to go out and buy the New York Times. His reasons for buying the paper are much more specific. He might buy it because he needs something to read on a plane or because he’s a basketball fan and it’s March Madness time. Marketers who collect demographic or psychographic information about him—and look for correlations with other buyer segments—are not going to capture those reasons. After decades of watching great companies fail, we’ve come to the conclusion that the focus on correlation—and on knowing more and more about customers—is taking firms in the wrong direction. What they really need to home in on is the progress that the customer is trying to make in a given circumstance—what the customer hopes to accomplish. This is what we’ve come to call the job to be done. We all have many jobs to be done in our lives. Some are little (pass the time while waiting in line); some are big (find a more fulfilling career). Some surface unpredictably (dress for an out-of-town business meeting after the airline lost my suitcase); some regularly (pack a healthful lunch for my daughter to take to school). When we buy a product, we essentially “hire” it to help us do a job. If it does the job well, the next time we’re confronted with the same job, we tend to hire that product again. And if it does a crummy job, we “fire” it and look for an alternative. (We’re using the word “product” here as shorthand for any solution that companies can sell; of course, the full set of “candidates” we consider hiring can often go well beyond just offerings from companies.)"

A Prairie Guard Dog I am on a journey. My trip is to a prairie. It is in the outdoor world called nature. Many animals live in a prairie habitat. This place has what prairie dogs need to survive. A prairie has a lot of grasses but few trees. Without places to hide, a prairie can be dangerous for some animals. Good Morning! It is early in the morning. First, I see a prairie dog. I name him Pete. He peeks his head out of his burrow underground. He looks around. Then Pete calls loudly to his family, "Yip!" He lets them know it is safe to come out. Soon four prairie dogs come out. Pete is the guard and he is restless. He cannot rest because he is always looking around for danger. This allows the other prairie dogs to safely munch on grasses and seeds. They can also groom each other or work on their burrow. A Scare Oh no! Pete spies a large badger! When he sees it, he gives a loud bark, "Yap! Yap!" His family recognizes the warning. Some hide in tall grasses, and some jump into the burrow. The badger runs at Pete, but the watchful guard is able to escape into the burrow. I am glad he is able to get away from danger. After a few minutes, Pete peeks his head out again and he is back on the job. Break Time The sun gets higher, and it is hot now. The prairie dogs slip into their deep burrow where it is cooler. Even Pete goes in. Tunnels, like hallways, lead to different areas. There is a sleeping room. There is a room used like a bathroom. The prairie dogs cover up roots and seeds in one room. Later, they eat the buried food there. Second Shift I keep watching the burrow. Finally, the sun begins to set and a different prairie dog peeks its head out. I name him Gary. Pete must be off duty. "Yip," Gary calls. The other prairie dogs come back out. The prairie dogs eat and play until the moon is high in the sky. Then they go to sleep in their burrows. I wonder if Pete will be back on duty. I will see in the morning.

Think before you act online Sometimes what we post on our favourite social networks have consequences we didn't expect. One weekend, 20-year-old James Miller posted on his Facebook page that his job was soooo boring. When he got to work on Monday his boss told him to clear his desk and get out. He gave him a letter, too. It said: 'After reading your comments on Facebook about our company, we understand you are not happy with your work. We think it is better for you to look for something that you will find more interesting." A few years ago, a girl's birthday party turned into a nightmare. Fifteen-year-old Cathy posted an invitation to her birthday party online. She posted her address, too. When her parents got back from the cinema that evening, they couldn't believe their eyes. There were 500 people at the party, and some of them were smashing windows, breaking potted plants and making a total mess of the house. Most teens think they know everything about social media, and that things like this could never happen to them. A study shows that last year alone, more than three million young people worldwide got into trouble because of their online activities. Here are some important tips. None of them can guarantee 100% Internet security, but all of them will help you to be safer online. RULE 1: Share with care! Not everyone will like what you write on Facebook or Twitter. Think before you post something. You can never completely control who sees your profile, your texts, your pictures, or your videos. Before clicking 'post', everyone should ask themselves two questions: 'How will I feel if my family or teachers see this?' and 'How might this post be bad for me in three, five or ten years from now?" RULE 2: Be polite when you write! Imagine someone is unfriendly in real life. You don't like it, right? Well, the same is true of online communication. Politeness matters, and anyone can be polite. No one likes it when you 'shout' in your messages. DON'T USE ALL CAPITALS!!!!!!!! If you feel angry or frustrated while you're writing a message, wait a bit. Read it again later and then send it. RULE 3: Protect and respect! Don't share your passwords with anyone. Don't post your home or email address online. Beware of 'cyberbullying' - don't forward rumours about other people, and don't say negative things about them. If you get messages like that or see them online, talk to an adult you know.

MIKE: Look, Sandy. This is a photograph I took during my trip to Australia. SANDY: Let me see it, Mike. SANDY: This is a good photograph. Who are these people? MIKE: They're people I met during the trip. MIKE: That's the ship we travelled on. SANDY: What a beautiful ship! SANDY: Who's this? MIKE: That's the man I told you about. Remember? SANDY: Ah yes. The one who offered you a job in Australia. MIKE: That's right. SANDY: Who's this? MIKE: Guess! SANDY: It's not you, is it? MIKE: That's right. MIKE: I grew a beard during the trip, but I shaved it off when I came home. SANDY: Why did you shave it off? MIKE: My wife didn't like it!

1. Sit down – Sit on a chair or lower your body. Example: "Please sit down and relax." (Сядьте и расслабьтесь.) 2. Lie down – Recline or rest horizontally. Example: "You should lie down if you're tired." (Тебе следует прилечь, если ты устал.) 3. Turn down – Refuse an offer or reduce volume/heat. Example: "She turned down the job offer." (Она отказалась от предложения о работе.) 4. Slow down – Reduce speed. Example: "Slow down! The road is icy." (Сбавь скорость! Дорога скользкая.) 5. Calm down – Become less angry or anxious. Example: "Calm down and tell me what happened." (Успокойся и расскажи, что случилось.) 6. Break down – Stop working (machine) or lose control emotionally. Example: "My car broke down yesterday." (Моя машина сломалась вчера.) 7. Write down – Record something on paper. Example: "Write down the phone number." (Запиши номер телефона.) 8. Put down – Place something on a surface or insult someone. Example: "Put down the book on the table." (Положи книгу на стол.) 9. Bring down – Reduce (prices, temperature) or make someone sad. Example: "The news brought her down." (Новость расстроила ее.) 10. Cut down – Reduce consumption (e.g., food, expenses). Example: "I need to cut down on sugar." (Мне нужно сократить потребление сахара.) 11. Let down – Disappoint someone. Example: "He let me down by not coming." (Он меня подвел, не прийдя.) 12. Shut down – Close a business or turn off a machine. Example: "The factory shut down last year." (Фабрика закрылась в прошлом году.) 13. Knock down – Demolish or hit someone to the ground. Example: "They knocked down the old building." (Они снесли старое здание.) 14. Settle down – Start living a stable life or calm down. Example: "They want to settle down and have kids." (Они хотят остепениться и завести детей.) 15. Go down – Decrease or descend. Example: "The price of gas went down." (Цена на бензин снизилась.) 16. Come down – Move from a higher place or become cheaper. Example: "Come down the stairs carefully." (Спускайся по лестнице осторожно.) 17. Hold down – Keep a job or suppress something. Example: "He holds down two jobs." (Он работает на двух работах.) 18. Burn down – Destroy by fire.

Changes. Things are always changing, like the clock, the weather, and even me. It seems nothing ever stays the same. My life has been full of changes. Sometimes I don't feel good about them, but then later it gets better. Taffy, my kitty, ran away. We have looked for him all over, but we cannot find him anywhere. I miss Taffy a lot, and I am sad. Dad says that we can get another kitty. That makes me feel better. I don't know what I will name him, but I will always remember Taffy. My best friend, Robin, just moved away. The moving van took away everything, and the house is empty. I wish Robin were here to play with me. Robin now lives in the mountains. I have never seen mountains, but they sound like fun to visit. Mom says we can take an airplane, so I can see Robin and play with her again. The day I started the new school year, I was scared of all the new children in my class. I was afraid that they wouldn't like me, and that I couldn't run as fast as they do. Now I am happy because I have made lots of new friends. I like Sarah and Ana, and Mary Lou, who makes me laugh. I love my class and my teacher. Mom just took a new job at an office downtown. She's not here when I come home from school. My Aunt Barbara is here to give me cookies and milk. Then I wait and wait for Mom to come home. When the hands of the clock point straight up and down, she comes home, and that makes me happy. Things are always changing, even with me. Yesterday I looked in the mirror. My face looked like a Halloween pumpkin because I lost my first tooth. I had a big surprise when I woke up this morning. My tooth was gone from under my pillow. There was a note from the tooth fairy and a whole quarter. I'm going to save it to buy some colored pencils. In school I learned that crawly caterpillars change into butterflies. And tiny acorn nuts grow into great big oak trees. Mom says that long ago, she was little like me. Do you think some day I will change and be a grownup? I think I will be an artist.

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