My brother gabe was a small and nervous boy. he had an annoying habit of following me everywhere i went. whenever he asked me to him with his homework, i told him to leave me alone. one morning, i was late for school. to make things worse, there was an important presentation that day. as i rushed out the door, gabe called my name. i ignored him as i ran out of the house. the presentation project was in fifth period. in my third-period class, i double checked my book bag to make sure i had my usb drive. it wasn’t there! just then, someone opened the classroom door. there was the small, nervous face of my little brother. i ran over to him and asked him why he was at my school. he pulled my usb drive out of his pocket and handed it to me. he had skipped school to bring it to me. i was suddenly ashamed of how i’d treated him. i vowed that i would be a better older brother from that day forward. what is the difference between the narrator and his brother gabe? gabe is nervous; the narrator is brave. gabe is selfless; the narrator is self-centered. gabe is kind; the narrator is a bully. gabe is calm; the narrator is always angry. nextreset

Write a procedure to explain something you already know how to do

Critical thinking questions what factors led to the creation and implementation of operation reinhard? how did the residents of the ghettos respond to mass deportations and what occurred when the residents realized what happened to those deported? what did rudolf hoess’s testimony at the end of the war suggest about the final solution and planned deportation and resettlement? how did operation reinhard differ from earlier nazi actions and how was it similar? was resettlement seriously considered and why was it not used?

Select the contred text in the passage which sentence in this excerpt from john galsworthy's narrative essay "gone" reflects his view that there is no afterlife? an old woman and mrs. herd's sister were in the sitting-room, they showed us to the crazy, narrow stairway. though we lived distant but four hundred yards of a crows flight, we had never seen mrs. herd before, for that is the way of things in this land of minding one's own business a slight dark girlish-looking woman, almost quite refined away, and with those eyes of the dying, where the spirit is coming through, as it only does when it knows that al is over except just the passing. she lay in a double bed with clean white sheets. a white-washed room, so low that the ceiling almost touched our heads, some flowers in a bow, the small lattice window open. though it was hot in there, it was better far than the rooms of most families in towns, living on a wage of twice as much, for here was no sign of defeat in decency or cleanliness. in her face, as in poor herd's, was that same strange minging of resigned despair and almost eager appeal, so terrible to disappoint. yet, trying not to disappoint it, one felt guilty of treachery: what was the good, the kindness in making this poor bird flutter still with hope against the bars, when fast prison had so surely closed in round her? but what else could we do? we could not give her those glib assurances that naive souls make so easily to others concerning their after state. and the night was so beautiful, so utterly glamourously beautiful, with its star-flowers, and its silence and its trees clothed in moonlight. all was tranquil as a dream of sleep. but it was long before our hearts wandering with poor herd, would let us remember that she had slipped away into so beautiful a dream