Write the right answer to the question based on the context passage.

Example Input: I have never had a lot of money. But I don't believe you have to have a lot for it to become burdensome. Money has always seemed to be a burden. Either you have it and the obligation and responsibility becomes a burden (so I've been told, ha) or you don't have it and life without money becomes a burden. I guess money became a burden to me when I started paying my own bills.
Let me explain. I raised my 2 girls by myself. I was fortunate to have a good job as an office manager for a doctor in Dallas. I was able to pay my bills and juggle things around to afford what the girls needed for school and what not. When I didn't have money for something they wanted I felt like I carried the world on my shoulders. I didn't let them know how stressful it all was because I felt like it was none of their business. They were kids and needed to be kids. They would soon enough be feeling the stress of managing their own household and shouldn't be asked to help shoulder that burden as kids.
Once, me and my youngest daughter, who was an adult at this time, went to a drive in fast food place and got a couple of drinks. My daughter was treating me and when the car hop came to deliver the drinks, my daughter gave her $5.00 as a tip, which was more than the drinks! I, of course, asked why she did that and she told me that they live off their tips and she knew what that was like having been a waitress before. I said something about her needing the money as well and how money makes the world go around. She said "No, Mom, you can be dead-assed broke and the world is still going to go around."
That was when I quit letting money be a burden. Question: Who gave the car hop a $5.00 tips?
Example Output: her daughter

Example Input: It's always interesting to read back on why people do things, especially people who end up making a career or a fortune out of the seemingly benign choices they make. Thelma Schoonmaker, the film editor whom my previous post was about was one of those people; she got into editing after seeing an ad in the New York Times. I'm in no way suggesting I'm going to make a fortune, nor that I'm a Thelma Schoonmaker in the making, but I certainly do make a lot of benign choices.
Art blogging, for me, was one of those benign choices. I made the decision to start an art blog very randomly, so randomly I'm not even sure where the idea came from. At the time I had been studying a bachelor of psychology for about two years and found myself interested in the subject, but underwhelmed with the lack of creative ideas and media I was being exposed to.
I'd always been interested in art and most creative mediums, often recording music or taking photographs on the side. But the pages and pages of white and black scientific journal articles must have got to me, because I found myself yearning for splashes of colour, moving imagery, challenging concepts and undefinable ideas. The next thing I knew I had started an art blog aptly titled: Artistic Expansion and I began spending hours a day searching through the internet for content, often finding my best pieces in the most random places, often not even defined intentionally as 'art'.
Over the last two years I must have blogged hundreds of multi-coloured, multi-textured and multi-layered images, accumulated over 2000 followers and consumed more art than I ever had in my entire life. I find it interesting not because of it's success, but because before I started my art blog, I really had no idea how much I did or could love art and once I had made my art blog I couldn't imagine how I ever functioned without it. Question: Who did the blogger post about most recently?
Example Output: Thelma Schoonmaker

Example Input: We gave Tiger swimming lessons in our plastic wading pool. I taught the kitten the way Pa taught me: I threw him into water where he could not stand, and I watched, ready to grab him if he went under. Tiger did not thrash desperately like me. He merely paddled urgently for the edge of the plastic pool with his head high and his thin legs churning. Little Bit said, "Dog paddle," and we all laughed. "Tiger paddle," I said, and we all laughed some more, even Jordy. That was probably when Ma noticed the kitten swimming lessons and stopped them.
Our swimming lessons happened in two places. When Pa took us, we went to Hawkins Springs behind Mrs. DeLyons' Fountain of Youth Motor Hotel. When Ma took us, we drove to Mermaid Springs State Park, where we would sometimes meet Mr. Drake.
I liked Mermaid Springs better because I felt safe there. Ma could not swim, so she never made me jump off a dock into deep water, and she always insisted that I wear an orange styrofoam cylinder on my back like a skindiver or spaceman. Ma usually sat on a towel on the grass near the beach, reading a magazine or a book while tanning her legs. Every now and then she would call to us not to go too far or not to splash each other. When she wore her one-piece red swimming suit, she would come in up to her waist, then lower herself to her shoulders, being careful not to get her hair wet. On the rarest occasions, she would wear a swimming cap and float on her back in the shallow water. Often she stayed in her shorts and shirt, adding sunglasses and removing shoes as her concession to summer and the beach. Question: Who was careful not to wet her hair?
Example Output:
Ma