Journal 21- A Model Seder

Last Friday, we conducted a model seder for the residents of Mt. Carmel. Mount Carmel is a mainly non-Jewish elderly home, but we still had about 30 people attend. We sang Pesach songs and had a generally fun time. The mitzvah that we performed is called in Hebrew Bikur Cholim. It is usually translated as visiting the sick, but can also be known as visiting the elderly, which we did at our model seder.

Math Blog Post

In Geometry, we finished  chapter about Spatial Reasoning. Spatial Reasoning is all about using formulas to find the lateral area, surface area, and volume of 3-D figures. First, we had to determine what figure could be made from a net, so I made a few of those problems for you to solve:

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For the top one, the answer is a cylinder, because the two circles go on top of the rectangle to make a cylinder.

For to bottom one, the answer is a pentagonal pyramid, because the triangles go up to make a pyramid over the pentagon, which is the base.

Reflections on To Kill a Mockingbird

We recently finished reading the classic “To Kill a Mockingbird”, and were asked to share the two reflections we made on it.

1. Atticus tells Scout that you “never really understand a person until you consider things from his point of view-until you climb into his skin and walk around in it.” Becomeone of the following characters and narrate a specific event from the novel in his/her voice and point of view:

Boo Radley        Tom Robinson            Atticus

Mrs. Dubose             Mayella Ewell           Scout

 Boo Radley, When he kills Mr. Ewell.

I don’t listen to much in my house. I don’t do much. I mostly read and talk with my brother. So, when I heard screams and sounds of a fight, I got up and looked through the blinds. I saw Bob Ewell, the filth of Maycomb, running after Jeremy and Jean Louise Finch. I saw the hatred, the evil fire in his eyes, and I knew I had to do something. I grabbed a knife and ran out of the door. My brother saw me, but he didn’t do anything; he was petrified in his seat.

When I got out, I saw Bob Ewell beating up Jean Louise. She was trying to fight back, but Bob threw her against a tree, and he couldn’t get up. I heard the clink of his knife against her costume. Then, Jeremy jumped onto his back and started to punch him, but Bob easily overpowered him. I knew that he would kill her soon. It was then I decided to act.

Without the slightest sound, I moved up to Bob Ewell. He was so involved in beating up Mr. Finch that he didn’t even hear me. I stabbed him in his large potbelly and he stumbled back, not sure of what happened. As he fell back, he saw me with his blood on my hands. He started, “You son of a…”, but could not finish his sentence. He fell down under the tree, and I started coughing hysterically, hyperventilating, not believing what I did.


Jeremy and Jean Louise got up, and I carried Jeremy and Jean Louise home. Atticus Finch came to the door and when he saw me, he said, “Thank you,” in a very quiet, reserved tone. I waited in the living room for the rest to unfold.

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4. Write one long poem, in the form of your choosing, about the novel or one of the main characters. The poem can be told by a narrator of your creation or from the perspective of one of the characters. On a separate paper, explain how your poem is connected to the novel.

Atticus Finch: A Poem, By Jake

I’ve been thinking about the past few days

They all have been such a craze

First the trial, my dignity was razed

Then Tom went off in a rage

I didn’t know what to do

I thought to go to Timbuktu

But I had to stay strong

For Jem and Scout and the right and the wrong

I have to work for the greater good

Whether or not I’m in a good mood

But then, Halloween came

My daughter as a ham was near insane

But I can’t think, must work for Maycomb

While being on the State Legislature

Can’t go to the pageant

What’s the point, it’s all madness

But then I hear a knock at the door

It’s Boo Radley answering from a war

He doesn’t say much; just gives me my boy

I take one look and say: “Oy!”

He says it was Bob Ewell, the despicable example of a man

I call Hector Tate, the sheriff, and he says: “Damn!”

I see him in the door with a look of despair

He said, “Atticus, the evil man’s dead”.

I call Doc Reynolds, our family’s doctor

The Doctor says, “Oh dear, where was the proctor?”

“Your son,” he says, “Has no more than a bump on the head.”

“His arm, however, is broken too.”

I have come to realise about these events

That they were meant to show that our city has taken a dent

Our infrastructure is in disarray

Who, they say, will help us?

You, Atticus, maybe?