By Molly O’Toole Illustrated by Ravela Smyth I have been waiting for this day my whole life Beep! Beep! I spring out of bed when my alarm sounds, but no alarm was needed to wake me up. I have been waiting for this day my whole life. I keep my pajamas on, because I need to wear clothes that aren’t important for cooking. My stomach is doing that all too familiar flip-flop motion that indicates Today is St. Lucia day….
Search Results for: winter
Cold
The cold air Hits me instantly, spontaneously, As I step out the door. My breath Puffs on the cold air in little white clouds, Forming a quick wisp of silky fog. Snow Soft, white, like winter’s blanket, Spirals from the sky, landing on The creases of my shirt, Landing on my eyelashes, Creating a cold white barrier between my eyes And the world ahead. Ice It covers the water on the street In a cold, hard shell of whiteness Causing…
Having a Mother
The sky glittered above, a blue canvas sprinkled with glittering stars Tears filled my eyes as I stared back at my mother. I turned and fled out the door, not caring that it was the middle of the night. The yard was filled with deep shadows, and leaves crackled beneath my feet as I ran over the open expanse of tufty grass and into the forest beyond. I somehow found my way to the shed, sagging wearily in its sheltering…
Celebrating the Melting Pot
The United States is made up of people who immigrated here from all over the world. Some came a long time ago, some more recently. All of us are Americans, who have “melted” together into one culture. But many of us have kept the traditions of our ancestors alive, especially when it comes to foods and holiday celebrations. And that’s what makes our culture so rich and interesting! “Being Lucia,” by Molly O’Toole, the featured story from our January/February 2015…
Writing Activity: using the power of analogy, with “Abigail’s Cove” by Brooke Hayes, 12
Analogy is a very powerful literary tool. It is hard to imagine what it feels like for someone else to have lots of competing thoughts in their head, but when we read this story it is easy to visualize the surf crashing against rocks and from this to understand, at the least, that Abigail has a lot on her mind! Of course, the core of the story is the relationship between Abigail and a wild animal. Notice how Abigail describes…
Silver Blue
Tick. Tick. Tick. I lay on my bed on Saturday morning, flat on my back with my watch pressed to my ear. I listened to the patient, steady ticks. Tick. Tick. Tick. The house was empty except for my dad and me, and he was down in the basement, working in his studio. Mom was out on one of her short trips from the house, grocery shopping. Dylan, my older brother, was hanging out at the mall with some of…
