Find the odd word 1) journey, travilling, trip,airhostess 2) troublesome, ticket, dangerous,tiring.3) by bus, by ship, by car, by coach.4) people ,driver, spaceschip, passenger.50 to travel, to arrive,to get on a trip, transport.6)helicopter, railway station, bus station, airport

Tina Turner singer , a woman 56 years old, rich, cruel , full of sorrows and joys, hurts and the highest praise , setbacks and supernatural success.
That's what she feels , leaving no time for each scene: "When I go on stage , I would like to charge the boundless energy of the hall. It's probably the same thing is happening with the horses during the launch . I feel that it is ready to go and do it . I love my work and always ready to perform it . It happens that I do not feel very well , but still something that comes out of the room , giving me the necessary push. This is my life . "

The Helping Hand
The word help is a verb that anticipates action. It means to make things easier for someone by offering aid. To help is to save, rescue, be useful in some way, or provide what is necessary to satisfy a need. There are different ways I can help someone. I can give a homeless person something to eat, say a kind word, or render a soft touch. The rewards of helping someone are not always visible. When I give a homeless person a few dollars or some food, I walk away not witnessing the feeling that person may have encountered. An inspiring word can’t be seen traveling to the heart to release a smile or lifting the spirit of a person so they can feel more confident about who they are. I often sit and wonder how prominent the world would be if we would stop belittling each other and just try to help. Although I know it is impossible to help everyone I come in contact with, it’s not absurd to think one can avoid saying bashing and degrading things that may crush someone’s spirit. As far back as I can remember, I had the desire to help people. I’ve always wanted to lend a helping hand. 
As a little girl, before I even knew what it really was, I found myself helping people. My mom, as I became older, told me stories about my acts of kindness. She divulged a time where I offered, what look like a less fortunate person, my tasteful snacks that I was enjoying. She told me as I reached my adolescent years, I would cry if I saw someone sitting on the side of the road with a sign or sleeping on the harden concrete as if it were a bed. Thoughts streamed inside of my sympathetic head as I imagined all they want is a helping hand. 
My dream of helping didn’t vanish. As I grew older, it grew right along with me. In my teen years I would always try to play “Ms. Fix It.” I wanted everyone to get along and be at peace with each other. I would try to stroke the ego of my wounded peer as she hid shamefully from the harsh words and judging stares people provided.