The story of Adam and Eve first starts with the creation of the world by God, starting with light and ending with the creation of human beings. God created Adam from the dust of the Earth and breathed the breath of life into him. He then created Eve from the bones of Adam and gave them the Garden of Eden as their home. The only restriction he gave them was to not eat the fruit from the Tree of Conscience. However the evil serpent ends up convincing Eve to eat the fruit from the tree because he tells her that God only told them not to eat it because if they would, then they would be able to distinguish good from evil. Eve then ate from the tree, convincing Adam to do the same. God punished them by banishing them from the Garden of Eden and making the rest of their lives filled with strife and struggle.
As for my own origins, there's a whole lot of Scottish blood in me. My great grandmother and her husband moved to America originally in the early 1920's. Their ship took them to the east coast of Canada, where they took a train all the way to the west coast, where they then sailed to Hawai'i, where they lived for the rest of their lives. My grandmother grew up in Honolulu, meaning that she witnessed the bombing of Pearl Harbor when she was 14. She's told me that she and her sister could see the smoke coming from Pearl Harbor that morning and that they (against their mother's wishes) went and got up on their neighbors roof in order to see what had happened, and in doing so saw the face of one of the Japanese bombers when a plane flew about twenty feet over their heads. She eventually left Hawai'i for Kentucky when she married my Grandfather when she was 19, whom she had met in Honolulu since he was stationed there after the bombing. We call her Tutu, since that is the Hawaiian word for grandmother, and my great-grandmother, Grammy, since that is a typical word for Grandmother in Scotland.
The Scottish blood runs strong in my veins, I think, due to the fact that I am way too emotionally invested in the movie Braveheart.
As for my own origins, there's a whole lot of Scottish blood in me. My great grandmother and her husband moved to America originally in the early 1920's. Their ship took them to the east coast of Canada, where they took a train all the way to the west coast, where they then sailed to Hawai'i, where they lived for the rest of their lives. My grandmother grew up in Honolulu, meaning that she witnessed the bombing of Pearl Harbor when she was 14. She's told me that she and her sister could see the smoke coming from Pearl Harbor that morning and that they (against their mother's wishes) went and got up on their neighbors roof in order to see what had happened, and in doing so saw the face of one of the Japanese bombers when a plane flew about twenty feet over their heads. She eventually left Hawai'i for Kentucky when she married my Grandfather when she was 19, whom she had met in Honolulu since he was stationed there after the bombing. We call her Tutu, since that is the Hawaiian word for grandmother, and my great-grandmother, Grammy, since that is a typical word for Grandmother in Scotland.
The Scottish blood runs strong in my veins, I think, due to the fact that I am way too emotionally invested in the movie Braveheart.
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