Powerful Weapon

Title: The Misadventures of Bob and the Talking Parrot

Once upon a time in a quaint little town, there lived a man named Bob who had the most peculiar pet - a talking parrot named Polly. Now, Polly wasn't your ordinary parrot. She had a knack for mimicking human speech and loved to crack jokes at the most unexpected moments.

One day, Bob decided to take Polly for a walk in the park. As they strolled along, Polly suddenly blurted out, "Why did the squirrel bring a tiny umbrella? Because it heard it was going to rain nuts and bolts!" Bob couldn't help but burst out laughing at Polly's joke, causing passersby to give them curious looks.

As they continued their walk, Polly started imitating the sounds of other animals in the park, much to the amusement of everyone around. Bob found himself in stitches as Polly's rendition of a duck quacking and a dog barking was surprisingly spot-on.

But the real hilarity ensued when they passed by a group of elderly ladies playing chess. Polly, in her mischievous tone, shouted, "Checkmate! I win!" The ladies were taken aback and couldn't help but chuckle at the unexpected interruption.

As the day went on, Bob and Polly became the talk of the town with their comedic antics. People would stop them just to hear Polly's latest joke or impression. Bob couldn't have been prouder of his feathered friend who brought so much joy and laughter wherever they went.

And so, Bob and Polly continued their adventures, spreading laughter and happiness wherever they went. Because in the end, they knew that life was too short not to enjoy the simple pleasures and embrace the unexpected moments of humor that come our way.

And as they walked off into the sunset, with Polly perched on Bob's shoulder, they knew that their bond of friendship and laughter would last a lifetime.

The end.

Annie's
Soldier
Part:2
The next day after school, Annie showed me a letter
she’d written to Scott. It was short, but I could see the
work she’d put into it in every carefully lettered word.
Dear Scott, I’m in fourth grade. I’m in gymnastics twelve
hours a week. I like SpongeBob and using my dad’s
computer to play office. Annie. “That’s nice,” I told her,
and she sent the letter off.
Starting almost immediately, the first thing Annie did
when she got home from school or gymnastics class was
to check the mailbox. Three weeks passed. I figured Scott
wasn’t going to write back.
“Don’t feel bad,” I told Annie one afternoon following
another fruitless check of the mailbox. “Scott’s a soldier.
He’s got all kinds of things to think about over there.
Writing you a letter right now might not be so easy for him.”
“I know, Mom,” Annie said, her voice upbeat as usual.
“But I can still think he’s going to write back. I can hope.”
A month flew by and I hoped Annie had moved on.
Then one day a package with a military return address
showed up. Inside was a bracelet made of rope, a small
stuffed camel and another handwritten note from
Scott. Every guy in my unit wears a bracelet like the one
enclosed, it read. Annie immediately wrapped it around
her tiny wrist; it was a perfect fit. She went to bed that
night with it on, and the camel tucked in beside her. I
peeked in on her later. Her face, bathed in the soft pink
glow of her half-moon nightlight, was peaceful almost
beyond imagining, so opposite of the way our world was
now. How would she react if Scott or someone in his unit
got hurt or worse? I went to bed more worried than ever.
“Christmas is only a month away,” Annie said the next
morning at breakfast. “Let’s send Scott a holiday goodie
package. We can put cookies in it. The frosted cut-out
kind. And Chex Mix. You can’t have Christmas without
Chex Mix.”
Christmas in Iraq. I closed my eyes and tried
to imagine it. Broiling heat. Constant danger. And
homesickness. I opened my eyes and saw Annie staring at me, a big, eager grin on her face. I looked at that
innocent, completely trusting face, and decided I had
to say something more than I had so far. “War isn’t nice,
honey. This isn’t just another fun school project. It’s real.
And dangerous. I want you to know that.”
Annie fixed me with one of those looks she gives me
from time to time. A look that basically says: “Mom, how
can you be so dumb? “I know, Mom,” she said. “And that’s
why I wanted to write the letter! That’s why I put Scott
and the soldiers in my prayers every night.”
Now I was the one being naive. I should have known
Annie had thought this through, and that there was no
hiding the world from her. And certainly there was no
holding back her prayers. And how could she pray if she
didn’t know what she was praying for?
“Christmas in Kuwait!” I said to Annie. “We should put
some practical things in the package too. Things he can
use every day, like gum and lip balm. He can’t drive down
to Target like we can.”
Annie nodded vigorously, as if this fact had already
occurred to her.
END OF PART TWO
Part 3 next monday
https://t.me/PW5_5

1.That plant looks like_.
A. A cabbage  B. Healthy  C. To die
D. Nice
2. Thomson has _his luggage in customs.   
A. Searching   B. Being searched 
C. Searched      D. Searches
3. I think I _play table tennis better after a bit of practice.
A. Managed to  B. Can C. Could D. Will be able to
4. The P.M is leaving_ Germany soon.
A. In B. For C. By D. From
5. We can add the prefix im- to_
A. Separable B. Permanent  C. Desirable
D. Visible

Annie’s
Soldier
Part:1
“My daughter’s class had
written to the troops in Iraq. That would
be the end of it, I thought...”
By Elizabeth Hassee,
Greenwood, Indiana
“Mom!” my 10-year-old daughter, Annie, shouted as
she burst through the front door after school that fall
afternoon. “I just got a letter from a soldier!”
Annie’s teacher had given them a project: Write a
letter to a U.S. serviceman or woman in Iraq. Annie had
worked hard on a big picture of a red, white and blue
cat. On the bottom of the page she’d written, “Be safe,
and thank you.” I’d cautioned Annie not to get her hopes
up too much. “There are a lot of soldiers over there,” I
told her. “And they’re very busy. I’m sure they’ll appreciate
hearing from you, but you might not get an answer
from them.”
“That’s okay, Mom,” Annie had said. “It was fun
making the picture.”
Now Annie pulled the letter from her schoolbag and
read it to me.
Hi, my name is Scott Montgomery. I am a sergeant
in the South Carolina Army National Guard currently
stationed in Kuwait. Two weeks ago in Iraq, on a mission
just north of Baghdad, my truck was hit by a bomb. A
piece of shrapnel struck me in the arm and I had to be
rushed to the hospital.
I had two operations and was feeling pretty sad.
While I was recuperating, someone gave me an envelope
addressed to a U.S. soldier. I found a beautiful handmade
card from you. It brought a big smile to my face to know
that a young girl in Indiana took the time to wish good
luck to someone she doesn’t even know. Thank you,
Annie. You really brightened this soldier’s day. I hope you
get a chance to write back. Take care, Scott.
“That is so cool!” Annie said. She raced upstairs
to show the letter to her sisters, while the words she’d
just read echoed in my head. Kuwait. Baghdad. Trucks.
Bombs. Shrapnel. The kinds of words I read every day in
the paper, along with another one: Casualties. I instantly
liked the young man who had been thoughtful enough
to write back to Annie—to make her feel so special. But
to be honest, I was worried. My daughter was a sweet
little fourth grader. Her world was small and, I hoped,
protected. Scott was a man in the middle of a war where
people were getting maimed and killed. A conflict that
adults argued about every day…on TV, the radio, even in
our own church parking lot. The ugly realities of war were
nearly everywhere. Did I really need to expose my 10-year-
old to them? Wouldn’t the world find her soon enough?
“She’s going to grow up fast enough as it is,” I said
to my husband, Jim, that night. “War is the most horrible
thing in the world. Does she have to learn about it now,
when she doesn’t even know that Santa’s not real?”
“Look,” said Jim. “We’re the ones who taught the girls
that we need to support the troops over there. Annie’s
just putting that idea into action. She can learn from this.
It is scary, true. But you’re never too young to do the
right thing.”
END OF PART ONE
Part 2 next monday