An unexpected finding сочинение

In Siberia, a girl was born in a family with a mild heart defect, multiple mild external anomalies (such as facial asymmetry, etc.), small features of the behavior (closed) and delayed speech development. The heart defect was successfully operated on. The girl is actively engaged with a speech therapist, there is an improvement on the background of classes. The geneticist recommended the study of the complete genome. Mom applied to the foundation and a decision was made to fund the study. The result of the study fully explained all of the girl’s disorders. However, the report pointed to an incidental additional finding: a known gene breakdown described in databases was identified, leading to a high risk of developing breast and ovarian cancer. Since the girl has every chance of good socialization and a long life, and also considering that breast and ovarian cancer is well treated in the early stages and radical surgical treatment is possible, knowledge about this finding will allow the mother and the girl herself to be regularly monitored and examined by a specialist-oncologist, in time to identify the onset of the disease (provided that it occurs at all) and receive timely treatment in order to recover.

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Hello my dear friends,

with the thought of decluttering in mind, my younger daughter recently had gone through her wardrobe and gotten some cloths together that she didn’t want anymore. She did well, a full large bag full for the Goodwill Store and that is where we headed day before yesterday to drop her donation off. 

Of course if you are just around the back of a thrift store dropping something off, you have to head around the front and visit the store too, right?! Lately I seem to be very fortunate with finding some very special pieces and even though I wasn’t there specifically to buy anything this time, I did take a look around. I did find a few little things that I liked. Pieces like a little silver tray and a set of salt and pepper shakers that would come in handy one day I am sure. As as I turned around and glanced at the shelf across the aisle, I stopped. There on the shelf was something that almost jumped at me. I saw this unusual but beautiful treasure. I literally dashed over and grabbed the item. I could feel a smile on my face.

A little later back at home I researched my newest finding right away and if I am right in what I read, then what I have found is a rare treasure in the shape of a silver plate baby cup from the 1890’s!

I am so buzzed about it because of how neat it is. …Would you like to see it?!

One of my longest and fruitless on-going searches has been for information regarding my father’s father.

The family story was that my grandmother, Pearl Ford, met and married Charles Budavich, an immigrant from Lithuania in 1926.  My father, Eugene, was born in November, and his brother Charles followed in 1927.  By 1930, Charles Budavich was gone.  Grandma had said he died young, possibly in a mining accident.

I found a Budavich family in Pennsylvania, and they originated in Lithuania, but all their members seem accounted for.  There is no Charles who disappeared to the West Coast and was never heard from again. Besides, the family immigrated in the 1880s, while Charles was (presumably) of Pearl’s generation, too young to be their offspring born abroad.

The only record I could find that Charles existed is the record of his marriage to Grandma in the Washington State digital archives, where he is listed as «Charles K. Budavick.»  The couple married in Tacoma, Washington on June 23, 1926—four-and-a-half months before my father was born.

I noticed when I reviewed the search results that records also showed a marriage for Pearl M. Ford that occurred in 1924.  I clicked on the linking, finding it amusing that there was someone of a similar name in the area at the time.  Apparently on July 21, 1924, Pearl M. Ford had married William H. Clark in Tacoma, Washington.  What made it odd was that one of the witnesses to this marriage had the same name as Grandma’s mother: «Mrs. W. G. Ford.»  So, maybe there was another «Pearl M. Ford» in Pierce county in the early 1920s, but one whose mother «Mrs. W. G. Ford?»  The other witness was «Mrs. Minnie Clark,» undoubtedly William’s mother, and it sounds crazy but as I read her name and imagined myself at the scene—a witness myself—felt that Minnie had not approved of this marriage at all and that she was protective of her son (turns out he was her youngest.)  Grandma Pearl married again less than two years later and as far as I know never mentioned this earlier marriage to her children at all.

I was hesitant to bring this information to my father—essentially telling him that Charles Budavich may not have been his father—but Dad seemed to be relieved, as if what I was telling him was something he had felt most of his life.  I would like to be able to tell him something more about this William Clark who may have been his father but a name like «William Clark» makes it easy to disappear.

 The Clark family left the state for California in the late 1920s.  I don’t know if there was any further contact with Pearl but when I discovered that my father had started grade school in San Diego, I had to wonder if Pearl’s travel to Southern California had been connected to the Clark family.

I am still puzzling this one out.

Гость:

An Unexpected Finding My friend and I were in the forest near the camping site. While the others were preparing supper we were exploring the area. Soon we came to some bushes and saw a cave behind them. We walked into the cave. It was big and dark. Then my friend noticed something in the far corner. it was a piece of paper. We found treasure map.First we wanted to return to the campsite and tell everybody. But then we decided go and look for treasure. We reached the spot where the treasure was. My friend began to dig with his knife. I helped him. Soon we found an old box with jewellery in it. It was very heavy. We took it to our friends. When we took it to police, they were happy. Because it was a lost jewellery. One old man had lost it many years ago. They returned it to the pwner, And we got 300$ reward. We were very happy aand proud .

Just a little piece about finding something unexpected. I wrote this today at a writing workshop I attend. I’d LOVE if you’d let me know what you think (be honest!). Thanks for reading it!

Unexpected Findings

I curl my fingers around the rusted
doorknob. The door is cracked and the off-white paint is peeling in long
strips. I can see the swirly knots in the wood through the thin paint. As I
open it, the door creaks like an old man getting up in the morning. Inside I
find something I never thought I would ever see again. It is the old sweater my
grandma had knitted for me as a starting school present. I wore it every day
for 297 days (yes, I counted) until my mother ordered me to take it off. It had
became so ratty that when I put it on I could never find the arm holes, as
there were too many other holes which I mistakenly thought were the ones meant
for my arms. I was definitely a weird kid. Other kids had stuffed animals and
special ‘blankies’. I had my sweater. On the first day of kindergarten, while
everyone else squeezed their mother’s fingers so hard they nearly broke them, I
put on my sweater and flopped down on the couch with a book. I had loved that
sweater. But what was it doing here?

I was sure my mom had thrown it away. I
remember kicking and screaming and finally collapsing in hopelessness as my
mother tossed it out. So how did it get here, behind the old door in the
apartment building my dad runs? The responsible, adult part of me lectures me
on the importance of letting go, and tells me that I should close the door and
move on, but this voice was quickly defeated by the sentimental part of me. I
stumble through the doorway, leaping the distance in only a few steps. I
snatched the sweater up from the dusty floor and pressed it against my chest. I
took a deep breath, letting the familiar scent of the sweater remind me of
those happy days my 5-year-old self had enjoyed so long ago. I laugh as tears
began to stream down my face. What a silly thing to be get so emotional over! I
knew nobody would ever understand my attachment to this sweater. But it was a
part of me, a part of me I certainly didn’t expect to find behind the old
wrecked door in Dad’s apartments.

“Unexpected findings are the best.” I
whisper to myself.

By Charlene Potterbaum.

About seven years ago, my son Don and his Significant Other were returning to Indiana after doing some Trade Shows in New York. While cruising on the Turnpike, they saw a huge sign telling of an Antiques Store a few miles off the toll road. Kathi suggested they turn off and check it out, as she loved buying specialties for her show rooms, and prowling around in the musty interiors that had so much to offer.

So, once they stepped into the huge store, Kathi went one way, and my son Don’s attention turned towards what looked like a “sea” of shoe boxes that took up one huge section. He glanced over a few of the boxes, and found one that simply stated “jail and prison cards.”

Now, you need to know that Don had always had an interest in anything that smacked of police, FBI or detective work, so–his curiosity got the better of him. He walked to that particular box, and–to use his words, he said, “Ma, so help me God–I only picked out one card!” At first glance, he then saw that these were humorous, comic post cards, and was about to replace it when something on the front face of the card caught his eye….

He saw that the one who wrote the card put their entire message on the front of the card, instead of the backside with the mailing address! Thinking this a bit unusual, he decided to read the “note”–and almost fell over when he saw that it was signed “Ruby Yarnell”!–which was the name of his maternal grandmother (and my mother)!

He could hardly believe his eyes, and even he said “Mom, it was like the earth moved, or something…I couldn’t believe it!” The first thing he did was to whip out his cell to call me, and not getting any answer, he then called my sister, Lauraine… which was just as well as she was the “historian” of the family, anyhow. He asked her if Ruby had ever lived in Hartford as a young girl as the date on the card was 1907. She did some figuring in her head, then said, “Yes, and that would have been when she was fourteen…” so the dates matched.

He was so excited, he could hardly contain himself, so when he checked out, he said “How much is this card? I’d like to buy it…” and the clerk said, “That will be two dollars, please….” But he was so near to exploding, he grinned and quickly shared the story with the clerk. She responded with “Well, son, it looks like you got a real bargain there, didn’t you?” to which he responded, “But not as good as you’d have gotten, as I’d have paid $200 for it!” as he walked away, laughing…

Well, my Sis and I both cried like babies, to have this note in our hands after all these years. It was Mom’s handwriting, without question, even if she was only fourteen when she wrote it. As we all discussed and marveled over this find, we had to wonder how many times someone had almost thrown it away, or how many times had it been stuffed away in some attic, and how did it ever arrive in an Antique store in Pennsylvania!

But my marveling went deeper. I felt it was a definite “message” from my Mom. Somehow, it was preserved for me and it carried an even deeper message for me, personally. You see, my Mom and I had an unusual relationship. I never felt she was very maternal, nor did I ever feel close to her, yet, my sister did. Although the actual message on the post card was the light prattle you might expect from two young girls, the deeper message that came to my heart as I held the card in my hands was this:

“This is to let you know that I truly did love you, even though I never knew how to show that love. But you see, I was playing a “role”–one I was called to play; because my lack of showing my love for you is what caused you to seek out a deeper love for God, and it woudn’t have happened if I hadn’t played my role properly. Dad was playing his role, too–because our lack caused you to reach for the Perfect Parent, and from that has flowed your life’s message, both written and spoken. Also, this has happened so that you can know, that, although you will someday “disappear” from this world, your writing can be found many years later, showing up in the strangest–but perfect–places. Love, Mom”

Can anyone tell me what was guiding my son’s hand when he reached into that box? Can anyone tell me why it was so well preserved after so many years? What had it taken to put it there in Pennsylvania? What really prompted them to turn off the Turnpike? So many questions… so few answers… but plenty of awe!