On the website Homeschool Kids Write there is a weekly prompt to encourage children's writing. The idea is that the children produce some writing in response to the prompt, and post it on their blog. It's a good way to get their creative writing efforts 'out there' to be read. This week's prompt is ...
Do your relatives share stories with you about their lives? Everyone has a story from their lives that they like to tell. This is one way that family history is passed down. Think about a story that someone in your family has told you. Write that story in your own words. If you can’t think of one, ask someone to tell you about something they remember well from their lives.
My mum and her mouse by 'Smurf.'
This story is about my mum and her mouse. It started when my mum was about twelve. She was at boarding school when she naughtily tried to get a mouse because there was a craze going on to keep mice. She asked a 'daily girl' called Fiona to buy a mouse but Fiona's mum did not let her. My mum was sad about that, but the next day, she bought a mouse off a boy for 35p. That day, she walked around with her mouse in her blazer pocket. At tea-time, the teachers and matron of the school said to everybody in the school that all the mice had to go to Jones' farm. My mum was very sad when she walked through the forest with her mouse to Jones' farm. She was so sad. I wrote this because I have four mice.
The Grumpy Pony by 'Chef'
When my mum was eleven, she was at boarding school. She decided that she wanted to take riding lessons. The only pony that she was tall enough to ride was a scruffy, black Shetland Pony called 'Pedro.' This pony was very grumpy and lazy.
On about her third lesson, one of the instructors hadn't tightened the girth (saddle strap) very well. During the 'hack' on the Yorkshire Moors, Mum's pony had lagged a bit behind from the others. Mum told the pony to canter. Because of the loose girth, Mum began to tilt as the saddle slipped. As the pony was quite small, she forced herself to jump off, so she didn't scrape her head on the rough ground. Mum was shaken up, and she didn't get back on the pony, and she never rode again.
THE END
Hamsters by Tiger Girl
Our family love hamsters. When my father's mother (my nan) was young, about eight or nine, she had a small hamster. I don't know what it was called, or what it looked like. My nan loved this hamster although she did used to see how many peanuts her hamster could fit in her pouches. One day, my nan went into her room to find that the cozy hamster's cage was open and empty. They looked everywhere, under armchairs, sofas and tables. Then, suddenly they heard a rustling noise coming from the old stove's chimney . After a few minutes they were sure that the hamster was stuck in it. My nan's dad unscrewed the whole of the chimney's pipes, finally pulling out the dirty, sooty hamster which had turned black from all the soot. My nan took the hamster and dusted it with a paintbrush. She remembered to shut the cage after that.
My nan wasn't the only one who had a hamster. My mum did too! Her's was named 'Snowflake', it was an albino hamster; white with pink eyes. It was very sweet, and didn't bite at all. Although as you've experienced in the last paragraph, hamsters are great eascape artists. My mum's hamster escaped a lot too. Once, my mum found that the hamster had escaped, they looked for a while and finally found her in the carpet sweeper. Snowflake had injured her poor little eye. My mum managed to nurse Snowflake's eye by bathing it with salty water, dabbed on with a piece of cotton wool. A little while after, Snowflake escaped again, this time they looked everywhere, my granda even pulled up carpets. A few days later, at night, my mum thought she saw snowflake, but she'd actually just seen a pair of white socks. My mum was very sad. They never saw Snowflake again.
I have a hamster of my own. Her name is Flora. So far, she's only escaped a few times, and we've always found her, usually under my bed.
