Sample Church Anniversary Progrram
Grammar and coconut 
Some of my students come to class with the idea that the grammar does not fit nothing. Feel in the depths of their souls to deal with it is wasted time. In addition, they confess that it is difficult, boring, and that at a stroke if they had the power to do without them shake the pulse disappear any scheme of studies, indeed, the erased from the face of the Earth. The grammatical Coco loose and making mischief. As far as I'm concerned, I usually throw them the story that if it was not his fault I would see from black to express moods to orders, complaints or frasecilla pure and simple love. That that grammar is unimportant and walk out there managing to complicate the existence of any sounds at least quite rushed. The problem, I think, is that it takes time to discern connections between it and life itself. Suppose, like most, that grammar is divorced from what surrounds us is like accepting without rhyme or reason that human activities remain rigid, immobile, with no interaction, driven into watertight compartments. Of course. As much as I do not imagine the effort to newspapers, books, a recipe or a chatter in a corner while the presence alive and well in this sovereign "dryness" which, for want of a better name, were called grammar. What is the tool, hammer or saw, which we have to conceive intellectually the world?, what else could fall back if no language to say and tell?. No wonder Octavio Paz wisely published a book entitled "The Monkey Grammarian." In other words, we have a lot of primates, but in the end no one takes what bailao, which means that if our furry cousins \u200b\u200bis, therefore, just a series of clicks language, perfectly structured and unique, we remain well in check . You see which way the shots. Let me clarify: most to be linked with the world or not, grammar is almost the same world, accepting less complicated matter once we realize that without it we are, that "without it", as boleros, it would not be beyond our poor concretions, in our humble biped sheared condition. In short, we may well want to give to the language, we may hold, watch as a conversation of the most flavorful, most human. Yes, this grammar seems the object of a bolero, the songs of rapture that cure or sink forever. Ends fortune saved the bridge between possible universes, some obscure, underground and filled with cobwebs, some bright Apollonian, redeemed. The boundaries between her and that they have named "real life", again, less pretty loaded when mist behind him, a rather dense chiaroscuro worthy of a great painting Rembrandt. While many make the attempt to disappear, while a cluster seeks ways to send hope to hell if possible, personally I have it for safekeeping. Nothing but just in case.
Some of my students come to class with the idea that the grammar does not fit nothing. Feel in the depths of their souls to deal with it is wasted time. In addition, they confess that it is difficult, boring, and that at a stroke if they had the power to do without them shake the pulse disappear any scheme of studies, indeed, the erased from the face of the Earth. The grammatical Coco loose and making mischief. As far as I'm concerned, I usually throw them the story that if it was not his fault I would see from black to express moods to orders, complaints or frasecilla pure and simple love. That that grammar is unimportant and walk out there managing to complicate the existence of any sounds at least quite rushed. The problem, I think, is that it takes time to discern connections between it and life itself. Suppose, like most, that grammar is divorced from what surrounds us is like accepting without rhyme or reason that human activities remain rigid, immobile, with no interaction, driven into watertight compartments. Of course. As much as I do not imagine the effort to newspapers, books, a recipe or a chatter in a corner while the presence alive and well in this sovereign "dryness" which, for want of a better name, were called grammar. What is the tool, hammer or saw, which we have to conceive intellectually the world?, what else could fall back if no language to say and tell?. No wonder Octavio Paz wisely published a book entitled "The Monkey Grammarian." In other words, we have a lot of primates, but in the end no one takes what bailao, which means that if our furry cousins \u200b\u200bis, therefore, just a series of clicks language, perfectly structured and unique, we remain well in check . You see which way the shots. Let me clarify: most to be linked with the world or not, grammar is almost the same world, accepting less complicated matter once we realize that without it we are, that "without it", as boleros, it would not be beyond our poor concretions, in our humble biped sheared condition. In short, we may well want to give to the language, we may hold, watch as a conversation of the most flavorful, most human. Yes, this grammar seems the object of a bolero, the songs of rapture that cure or sink forever. Ends fortune saved the bridge between possible universes, some obscure, underground and filled with cobwebs, some bright Apollonian, redeemed. The boundaries between her and that they have named "real life", again, less pretty loaded when mist behind him, a rather dense chiaroscuro worthy of a great painting Rembrandt. While many make the attempt to disappear, while a cluster seeks ways to send hope to hell if possible, personally I have it for safekeeping. Nothing but just in case. 
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