SummerStoryClub on Xanga

Weblog

Friday, 10 July 2009

The Leader Baby
“The Israelites are growing,” thought Pharaoh. “What if they grow bold and outnumber us enough to revolt? I know! I'll have every baby boy killed and then they won't have men to fight.”
So the Pharaoh ordered his people to kill every boy that was born. They must throw them into the Nile but let every girl live. Now a man of the house of Levi married a Levite woman. She became pregnant and gave birth to a son. When she saw that he was a fine child, she hid him for three months.
When she could not hide him any longer, she made a papyrus basket for him and coated it with tar and pitch. Then she put the child in the basket and set it among the reeds in the Nile. His older sister stood at a distance to see what would happen to him.
“I hope my bother does not get eaten by crocodiles or fall out and drown,” she thought as she watched.
Then the Pharaoh's daughter went down to the river to bathe, and her attendants were walking along the bank of the Nile. The Pharaoh's daughter saw the basket among the reeds.
“I wonder what is in the basket,” Pharaoh's daughter thought.
She sent her slave girl, Naime, to get it. She opened it and saw the baby. He was crying, and she felt sorry for him.
“This is one of the Hebrew babies,” she said.
Then his sister went up to the Pharaoh's daughter and asked, “Shall I go and get one of the Hebrew women to nurse the baby for you?”
“Yes, go,” she answered.
So the baby's sister went and got the baby's mother. She told her mother what had happened and her mother was overjoyed.
The Pharaoh's daughter said to her, “Take this baby and nurse him for me until he is old enough to eat solid food, then bring him to me. I will pay you for this.”
So the woman took the baby and nursed him until he was old enough to eat solid food. Then she took him to Pharaoh's daughter and he became her son. She named him Moses, saying, “I drew him out of the water.”
By Nathan
Lighthouse Adventure

Maria had been watching for her father for over an hour. She hoped and prayed that he was safe. Maria lived close to the sea on the cliffs with her dad. Mr. Corn, her dad, lit the lighthouse lamp for the city during every storm and at night to warn the boats not to land there because the sharp rocks were perilous. Mr. Corn had gone out an hour ago to light the lamp because a storm was brewing.
Maria feared the worst for her dad because the sea came so close to the house that it washed their little garden away, and it was still rising. As she looked at the clock over the top of the fridge, she remembered supper. She forced herself from her seat and began preparing supper. She made a large delicious supper to keep herself busy. She made onion soup, stuffed peppers, leek turnovers, and a special pie that had several different kinds of fruit in it.
When she finished, it was two hours later, and much darker. The sea lapped at the door, making it rather dangerous for her dad to come inside. She prayed her dad was sitting safe and sound in the lighthouse.
The storm became calmer after a while and she went to look for her dad. Horror and shock struck her when she saw him. He was lying on the path and she realized that he must have never made it to the lighthouse before being swept away by the sea and then washed up again on to the rocks. She thought he was dead, so she knelt and her tears glistened on her cheeks, but when she felt his pulse and checked for breathing, he was just barely alive. She was relieved, but she knew she had to get him inside by herself. If she could just get him to the hospital, he had some chance of surviving. (In her panic, she had forgotten the satellite phone.)
The sky became suddenly dark again, and she noticed the wind picking up. It started sprinkling, and she knew time was running out. She started slowly and carefully dragging him toward the house. Finally she got him inside. The rain was now pelting down and the wind whistled in her ears. She was able to shut the door and push the water out of her dad’s lungs. She sat him up and fed him some of her hot onion soup.
When she was putting the soup ladle back into the soup bowl, she noticed the phone on its hook beside the stove. She opened their phone book and found the doctor’s circled number, which her father had made easy to find. She dialed the number and soon she reached the answering service. She told the nurse what had happened and the nurse assured her that soon there would be an ambulance and a paramedic to take her father to the hospital. Then she made her father as comfortable as she could and sat back to wait for the ambulance. She knew it would take a while because the roads were dangerous due to the bad weather.
Finally the ambulance arrived and they quickly and efficiently put her dad on a stretcher and took him away. She was thankful that now he was in good hands. The next day she went to visit him in the hospital. He was more conscious now and was doing a lot better. The doctor said he would be able to come home the next day. Her father thanked her for saving his life. Now, when she looks back on that night she shudders, and is so thankful that her dad is still alive.

by Lucinda
The Name
Chapter 1
“Ah, what a wonderful day”,I said.
“I need some eggs, a bit of butter, and an ounce of salt,” I told myself as I walked down the shady forest path which led to the town.
I reminded myself to look at the slave market in town because the work at my farm was getting to be too much work for me. The town was a hustle and bustle as usual. As I walked among the salt sellers a crier was yelling, “the Prince has found a young lady that says she can weave hay into gold. The Prince has told her to weave a room half full of hay into gold.”
“No one can weave hay into gold, except for me of course,” thought I, “But I could help her and maybe get something from her.”
That night I was in my house. I was looking in my spell book to find the place the Prince was keeping the young lady. I came upon a looking glass spell. I chanted the spell. A hole appeared in the wall and I saw the young lady crying in the hay.
“Just as I thought, the rumor is not true. Looks like I need to help after all,”I commented.
I chanted a different spell and in a blink of my eye I was in the chamber with the young lady. She didn't notice me until I said, “why are you crying?” She immediately stopped and looked up at me.
“How did you get in?”she stuttered.
“You answered me with a question,” I said.
“I was crying because I can't weave hay in to gold,” she answered.
“Well I can,” I replied.
“You can?”she gasped.
“Yes, but I would need something in return,”I chided.
“Well, here is my ring,” she offered.
The ring was made of gold and a half carat diamond. I took the ring and stuffed it into my pocket. I jumped to the spinning wheel and started spinning the hay. I did this in one night. I finished at dawn while the young lady was still sleeping. I chanted my spell, and POOF, I was back in my house.
I was so exhausted that when I laid down I went right to sleep. When I awoke, it was almost noon. I had better check on the young lady, I thought. I chanted the looking glass spell and peered in the hole. The Prince had now put her in a bigger room filled with hay. So I went to her again and this time she gave me her necklace.
Back to weaving I went again. I didn't finish until late afternoon. The young lady had dozed off when I was about half way through so I said my spell, and in an instant I was back in my house.
The next day I checked on the young lady and this time she was in a still bigger room with hay piled all around her, and she also was crying. So I went to her and asked her, “Why are you crying? Is the Prince going to punish you?”
“No, actually he wants to marry me,” she answered. “It’s just that I don't have anything to give you.”
“Well, since you are marrying the Prince you will surely have a son; so when he is two years old I will take him and that will make it up.” I chided.
“Agreed,” she answered.
Back to weaving I went. I finished around noon and the young lady was dozing again. So I said my spell and I was back in my house.

Chapter 2
One year later.
I was looking for a good slave to help me while I waited for the lad from the queen. Suddenly cannons boomed and an announcer hollered, “The queen has given birth to a son.”
“Just two more years,” I said to myself as I wrote down the date on a piece of paper.
Two years later.
“Today is the day,” I said to Wilson, who is the slave I bought.
“I need to pay a visit to the queen today.”
So I walked to the castle carrying my breakfast. When I arrived, the porter showed me to the waiting room. It wasn't until ten till noon when I got to see the queen.
“Good morning my lady—or what is left of it, anyway,” I said when I walked into the room. “Do you remember me?”
The queen almost dropped the baby when she recognized me.
“I have come for the baby,” I announced.
Then she broke down and began to weep and to beg to keep the baby. I was pitied the sight of the beautiful queen weeping and came up with a compromise.
“If you can guess my name in three days I will let you keep the baby,” I offered.
She agreed and then she started guessing and she didn't guess my name. She didn't guess it on the next day either. That night I danced around a fire that Wilson had built and I sung a song that revealed my name.
The last day the queen had a smile on her face which made me a bit uncomfortable. When she didn't guess my name on the first guess, I relaxed. But on her last guess she said, “Rumplestiltskin.”
That was my name! I stomped out of the building yelling, “Cheater, cheater! Someone always cheats at this game but it’s never me!”
But I was fairly beaten. I was glad that I bought Wilson after all.
by Nathan

Tuesday, 30 June 2009

The Princess and the Pea
It was a dark and stormy night. Rain lashed through the trees as the princess rode her horse along the forest path. She had to find shelter, and fast. The finely-made dress she was wearing might get wet! The cloak had defended her so far, but it could not last forever. What would her friends say if she got her dress wet? She would be the laughing stock! She had to find shelter.
She saw a big castle up ahead. She was riding up to the gate when she realized that there was a moat. She fell into the moat and was soaked to the skin. The horse drowned. She swam up, and pulled herself up with a random rope that was hanging.
She knocked on the door—more like flailed on the poor thing—and then moved back as the moat bridge fell down. The portcullis was raised, then the huge oak doors were unbarred. A kindly old King poked his head out.
"Come in," he said, "so that I may eat you"
"What!?!!" she exclaimed.
"Just kidding, heh heh. Come in and get dry."
She smiled and walked in. She was given dry, warm clothes and was sat in front of a fire. She was given food, and the queen was making a bed ready for her. She saw a "downright gorgeous" man (of COURSE he was a prince).
She headed to bed, and saw that she was supplied with a HUGE bed frame, with ten mattresses and ten comforters. She climbed up the huge ladder to the top. She was very scared about falling off the edge and being nothing but a pile of bones and blood. Ten minutes later, she realized that there was some small discomfort.
"Oh well, I'll be fine" she thought.
In the morning, she woke up warm and refreshed. She was about to get down when she fell over the side of the bed and landed flat on her back.
“Ow!"
She stood up, and looked at herself in the mirror. There were bruises and bumps all over her! Oh no! What would she tell the King and Queen? It would be too embarrassing to tell them she fell!
"I'll have to think of something" she thought.
She got to the breakfast table, and the queen asked tentatively, "How was your sleep?"
"Horrible!" she replied. "I was on top of something all night and now I'm black and blue all over!"
The queen smiled, and said, "You and my son should marry!"
So they did and they lived happily for the next 2 days.
by Spencer
What is it Like to be a Paintbrush?
My life as a paintbrush has been very important and busy. I have done many jobs big and small and have painted many things. I live my life in the drawer. It is crowded, dark and lonely. Every once and a while someone gets me out and I finally get to do what I was created for.
One hot, sunny day in June a five year old little boy, who had blonde hair, brown eyes and was wearing a red shirt with blue jeans, went outside to play with his wagon.   When he saw the wagon he noticed that the blue paint was not there anymore because the rain washed it off. Then the little boy felt very upset because he wanted the wagon to look as good as new. So he went into the house and got me and some blue paint to repaint his favorite wagon.
I was so excited because I got to get out of the drawer and go outside with the little boy. The little boy dipped me in the blue paint and stroked the brush on the wagon’s rough and hard surface. I felt happy to help the little boy, but I did not really like to paint the rough wagon because it felt like sandpaper. Next, the little boy rinsed me off in the cool water.
While the wagon was drying, the little boy took me and went to play in the sand. I felt frustrated because I did not like the sand. It was hard to get out of my bristles and the sand smelled awful. Later on that afternoon, the little boy rinsed me off in the sink and put me back in the drawer carefully.
                The next day, in the afternoon, a ten year old girl, with black hair, brown eyes, and wearing a pink shirt with purple overalls, wanted to repaint her bedroom wall because the red paint was coming off. She ran quickly and got me. I felt excited and curious because I did not know what I was going to paint now. The girl set me on the ground carefully, ran and got the paint, and started to paint her bedroom wall.
I felt happy to help the girl but I did not like to paint the wall because it felt hard as a rock. It reminded me of when I painted the wagon. When the girl was finished, she skipped all around the room as happy as could be. She picked me up and skipped to the bathroom to rinse me off. The water felt warm and I felt very happy to be clean as a whistle. Then the girl gently placed me into the drawer and ran to her room to get the red paint. I was now lonely once again.
                     On May twenty-third, four days later, the children’s Mother, who had black hair, brown eyes, and was wearing a brown shirt with a red short skirt, saw that her piano had a rusty spot on it. The Mother wanted to paint that spot so that it would look as good as new. She went around the house looking for the paintbrush and the stain for the piano. Mother found the stain in the cabinet, but she did not find the paintbrush. So she called her children and asked them where the paintbrush was. The children told her I was in the drawer.
Then Mother ran and got me and started to paint the piano. I was glad to help Mother but I did not like this job because the stain had a very strong smell. Finally Mother was finished repainting the piano. I knew my fate...”Back into the drawer we go.” Sure enough, Mother placed me back into the drawer and went to inspect her work on the piano.
A week later, Father wanted to paint a picture for his wife’s birthday. First, Father thought of the colors he would need for the picture of a beautiful flower garden. He ran to the cabinet to see what colors they had. Then he grabbed the bottles of paint, a canvas, an easel and a cup of water. Father knew that there was something missing...the paintbrush. He ran to get me from the drawer. Once again, I felt excited and curious about my next job.
Father squirted the paint out onto a paper plate and began to paint. He dipped me into the red paint and painted a Cardinal flower.   I loved this job because I loved the way the cool, smooth paint felt on my bristles. Next, Father dipped me into the dark yellow paint and painted a goldenrod onto the canvas. I liked the canvas because it felt smooth and nothing like the wagon and the wall. Finally Father dipped me into the green paint to begin making the grass, the stems and the leaves on the flowers.
He was almost finished with the picture for Mother. He just had to paint the Chicory flower which was as blue as a bluebonnet. He dipped me one last time into the blue paint and created the most beautiful Chicory flower I had ever painted before. When I saw the painting of the garden I was astonished at how marvelous it looked. This, by far, was my most favorite job of all.
Father picked up all of his tools and put them away. He placed me back into the drawer and it didn’t feel quite the same. When Father surprised Mother the next morning she bubbled with joy and said, “Thank you for this beautiful picture of a garden that you painted.” I overheard the conversation about the picture and knew that my work had paid off. I finally knew my true purpose.
I painted many different things: a wagon, a wall, a piano and a picture of a garden. After all of these jobs were completed, I felt happy because I knew that I was a useful tool to everyone in the family. If there was a job that needed to be done, I could do it. They all felt very thankful because I helped them to complete their jobs. My work was never done because there was always something that needed to be painted. I enjoyed the happiness of the family when a job was completed. I did not enjoy the rough wagon, dirty sand, the hard wall, and the smelly stain. The most joy came from creating a beautiful masterpiece.

by Emily