<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6561329629590737734</id><updated>2011-04-21T20:41:16.834-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Think and write</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://juanarosso.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6561329629590737734/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juanarosso.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>juana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08229674568664368887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>5</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6561329629590737734.post-8878501919210956727</id><published>2007-05-01T17:52:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-01T18:10:58.011-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Reaction on entry "childhood on the streets"</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#000099;"&gt;Kids working on the streets,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#000099;"&gt;little workers with little pay,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#000099;"&gt;they are not working,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#000099;"&gt;it is only a new game.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#000099;"&gt;I saw no childhood in their eyes,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#000099;"&gt;just a silent cry for help&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#000099;"&gt;for love, for money.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#000099;"&gt;I saw little men and little women&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#000099;"&gt;speaking the slang of the streets.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#000099;"&gt;No warm clothes in winter,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#000099;"&gt;no clean t-shirts in summer,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#000099;"&gt;no sign of tender motherly cherishes,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#000099;"&gt;no toys in their hands &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#000099;"&gt;for children´s day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#000099;"&gt;No names, no family trees&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#000099;"&gt;with innocence and experience in their sad eyes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#000099;"&gt;negociating useless things &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#000099;"&gt;for a few useless coins.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6561329629590737734-8878501919210956727?l=juanarosso.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://juanarosso.blogspot.com/feeds/8878501919210956727/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6561329629590737734&amp;postID=8878501919210956727' title='2 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6561329629590737734/posts/default/8878501919210956727'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6561329629590737734/posts/default/8878501919210956727'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juanarosso.blogspot.com/2007/05/reaction-on-entry-childhood-on-streets_01.html' title='Reaction on entry &quot;childhood on the streets&quot;'/><author><name>juana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08229674568664368887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6561329629590737734.post-8703339181205925613</id><published>2007-05-01T17:52:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-05-01T18:05:57.673-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Reaction on entry "childhood on the streets"</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;color:#000099;"&gt;Kids  working on the streets,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#000099;"&gt;little workers with little pay,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#000099;"&gt;they are not working,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#000099;"&gt;it is only a new game.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#000099;"&gt;I saw no childhood in their eyes,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#000099;"&gt;just a silent cry fo help&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#000099;"&gt;for love, for money.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#000099;"&gt;I saw little men and little women&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#000099;"&gt;speaking the slang of the streets.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#000099;"&gt;No warm clothes in winter,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#000099;"&gt;no clean t-shirts in summer,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#000099;"&gt;no sign of tender motherly cherishes,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#000099;"&gt;no toys in their hands &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#000099;"&gt;for childrens´ day.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#000099;"&gt;No names, no family trees&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#000099;"&gt;with innocence and experience in their sad eyes&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#000099;"&gt;negociating useless things &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;color:#000099;"&gt;for a few useless coins.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6561329629590737734-8703339181205925613?l=juanarosso.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://juanarosso.blogspot.com/feeds/8703339181205925613/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6561329629590737734&amp;postID=8703339181205925613' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6561329629590737734/posts/default/8703339181205925613'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6561329629590737734/posts/default/8703339181205925613'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juanarosso.blogspot.com/2007/05/reaction-on-entry-childhood-on-streets.html' title='Reaction on entry &quot;childhood on the streets&quot;'/><author><name>juana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08229674568664368887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6561329629590737734.post-3166223751799379875</id><published>2007-04-30T18:41:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-30T18:55:54.412-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lightnings can kill people.</title><content type='html'>When I was a child I used to be afraid of storms, the sound of thunders, but most of all I feared the lightnings.Whenever I heard a thunder and a light like a sword on the sky, I thought that the earth would be split into two. i feared that my house would be destroyed. Fortunately, it never happened. It´s still terrifying for me to see lightnings coming from the sky and almost reaching the ground. I knew sometimes they did so and killed animals and burnt trees.&lt;br /&gt;   I do not know how they are produced, I learnt they are dangerous. People can also be sstruck by a lightning. Fortunately, it doesn´t happen so often. It is said that a person who´s been struck by a lightning, his or her hair gets white in some parts. I t is like when people are struck by electricity, as dangerous as that. But is it coincidence or do people attrack lightnings? May be both of them.&lt;br /&gt;   I know aterrible case of a young neighbour who went to play football in an open space near the neighbourhood and while they were playing, a terrible storm began with thunders and lightnings, so dangerous that when the group was running to reach the road, a light ssstruck one of the young boys and killed him. The other boys, suffered from pain in their eyes, others were so frightened that didn´t  speak for a time.&lt;br /&gt;   We are given some recommendations through the media, when a storm breaks such as not being near a tree  because they attract lightnings, not to stay near bars or iron things, or never be without clothes. People from older times say that we must cover all the mirrrors at home.&lt;br /&gt;The fear lasts for the time the storm lasts, it gets me stressed and I feel released when there is no sound of thunders or lightnings.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6561329629590737734-3166223751799379875?l=juanarosso.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://juanarosso.blogspot.com/feeds/3166223751799379875/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6561329629590737734&amp;postID=3166223751799379875' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6561329629590737734/posts/default/3166223751799379875'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6561329629590737734/posts/default/3166223751799379875'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juanarosso.blogspot.com/2007/04/lightnings-can-kill-people.html' title='Lightnings can kill people.'/><author><name>juana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08229674568664368887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6561329629590737734.post-4567249452953280408</id><published>2007-04-30T18:25:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-30T18:41:23.287-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Giving organs and act of love.</title><content type='html'>For transplantation, the dictionary says: to take an organ from one´s person´s body and put it into another person´s body. It makes me relate transplantation with the character of the novel Frankenstain. It was science fiction at that time when the novel was written but with the advance in technology it seems possible, not in every aspect but some of them. Nowadays it is possible to fix again a foot, an arm or a hand to a person who has had an accident on that part of the body.&lt;br /&gt;   Our body is so gragile that we depend on the good function of certain important organs such as heart, liver, kidneys. If there´s a malfunction there could be a solution if there is a donant. In order to get an organ someone else has to die. But it is not how the problem is solved. There must be an agreement on the part of the dead relative´s and the organ must fit the patient needs and there´s  also the question of money, transplantations are expensive. To get an organ for transplantation is so difficult because of the act of donation, some people do not want to donate their organs, we can´t judge them for this, or their relatives don´t want that the loved person should be taken parts of their body.&lt;br /&gt;   Some people think that the act of donating an organ for transplantation is an act of generosity and love. And it is, just to go beyond their suffering for losing a relative, they think on others. This relative could, in a way, go on living in the heart or liver of another human being, but it is only a kind of physical consolation because the soul is unique. Giving an organ for other person to go on living is an act of love, a gift, a sacrifice for the sake of others.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6561329629590737734-4567249452953280408?l=juanarosso.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://juanarosso.blogspot.com/feeds/4567249452953280408/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6561329629590737734&amp;postID=4567249452953280408' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6561329629590737734/posts/default/4567249452953280408'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6561329629590737734/posts/default/4567249452953280408'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juanarosso.blogspot.com/2007/04/giving-organs-and-act-of-love.html' title='Giving organs and act of love.'/><author><name>juana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08229674568664368887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6561329629590737734.post-4018996576330465172</id><published>2007-04-30T18:10:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-04-30T18:25:07.984-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Accidents on streets.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;     In the recent years accidents on streets and highways have increased a lot. There is not only one cause. There are many like those who don´t respect traffic lights, the vehicle may fail, also smog or smoke from a factory near a street, as I saw on tv.may make the vision difficult but also raining,strong winds and those who drive drunk or the ones who are always in a hurry. A mixture of everything causes accidents on streets but thosewho are most careful to drive have less chances to have accidents than those who drive fast or are drunk.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;    I, as a pedestrian,see that many people don´t respect or obey traffic lights, red light seems to be green, especially for motorbike or cycle drivers. And there are those who stop just on the white lines so pedestrians have less space to cross the street.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;    Many people have died as innocent victims of those who drive fast or don´t respect red lights. I´ve never seen an accident  while it happened. I saw the remains of destroyed cars or motorbikes and I heard the sound of the ambulance´s  syren taking the victims to the hospital.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;    Survivors of accidents, I know have problems , physical and emotional. Some of them get disabled in a way or other because of bad injuries, so their life changes after an accident.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Times New Roman;"&gt;    I give my support to the campaign in our province in order to control drunk drivers. But authorities should also control speed, respect for traffic lights, and drivers should realize that if they are in a hurry they can hurt of kill others and themselves.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6561329629590737734-4018996576330465172?l=juanarosso.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://juanarosso.blogspot.com/feeds/4018996576330465172/comments/default' title='Enviar comentarios'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=6561329629590737734&amp;postID=4018996576330465172' title='0 comentarios'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6561329629590737734/posts/default/4018996576330465172'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6561329629590737734/posts/default/4018996576330465172'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://juanarosso.blogspot.com/2007/04/accidents-on-streets.html' title='Accidents on streets.'/><author><name>juana</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08229674568664368887</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
