Read the paragraph from Lucy’s narrative.I could see that my neighbor was struggling with the lone bag of groceries cradled in her arms, but I wasn’t sure what I should do. Grandma June—what all the neighborhood kids had called her for as long as I could remember—had always been the one to care for us, to help us build stronger forts, to grow better flowers, and to learn from our mistakes. To ask if she needed help with something as simple as carrying in one bag of groceries would be like shouting to the world that she was aging, that she was no longer as strong as she once had been. Hesitantly, I walked to the wooden gate that divided our front lawn from hers and stood there as the package she was carrying threatened to spill from her arms.
Read the paragraph from Nick’s personal narrative.Standing alone in my family’s barn, I thought about how much hard work and time my parents had invested—how much hard work and time we had all invested—in maintaining a fully operational farm. I did not remember a time when my clothes had not reeked of manure or my hair had not held fast to brittle pieces of straw. What would happen if my parents had to sell the farm so we could move closer to my grandparents? Just as I was attempting to imagine a life in the city, a sudden commotion erupted and interrupted my thoughts. With animals squawking and dust flying, I scrambled to pinpoint the source of this unexpected intrusion. In seconds that felt more like minutes, I was successful . . . and I could scarcely believe what my eyes were seeing.
Read the reflection from Kara’s narrative.1 Ironically, it is from my much younger—and, I used to think, less wise—brother that I learned the value of being honest even when a lie may seem far more tempting at the time. 2 I knew that what he did that day must have been extremely difficult for him. 3 Yet there he stood, taking responsibility for his actions with not a glimmer of hesitation. 4 It is this determination and resolve to do what is right—even when what is right is not what is easy—that I remembered many years later in college when faced with a similar predicament of my own.
Read the excerpt from Dominique’s narrative.1 Tired of waiting for the bus, which was late for the fifth day in a row, I sat leafing through an old magazine I had stuffed in my purse the previous night. 2 It was terribly warm for a September afternoon, and the sun cast transitory shadows on the bus stop sign with each car that passed. 3 I fleetingly wondered when the weather would get cooler and when the new bus driver would start arriving on time. 4 It was about then that I first noticed the apparent agitation of the man sitting next to me.5 Finally, the bus arrived and ambled to a gradual stop directly in front of the restless man. 6 The doors widened, and the bus driver greeted the man with his usual banter in his usual monotone.7 "Good afternoon. How are you today?”
Read the paragraph from Nick’s personal narrative.Standing alone in my family’s barn, I thought about how much hard work and time my parents had invested—how much hard work and time we had all invested—in maintaining a fully operational farm. I did not remember a time when my clothes had not reeked of manure or my hair had not held fast to brittle pieces of straw. What would happen if my parents had to sell the farm so we could move closer to my grandparents? Just as I was attempting to imagine a life in the city, a sudden commotion erupted and interrupted my thoughts. With animals squawking and dust flying, I scrambled to pinpoint the source of this unexpected intrusion. In seconds that felt more like minutes, I was successful . . . and I could scarcely believe what my eyes were seeing.
[BLANK]
Read the paragraph from Lucy’s narrative.I could see that my neighbor was struggling with the lone bag of groceries cradled in her arms, but I wasn’t sure what I should do. Grandma June—what all the neighborhood kids had called her for as long as I could remember—had always been the one to care for us, to help us build stronger forts, to grow better flowers, and to learn from our mistakes. To ask if she needed help with something as simple as carrying in one bag of groceries would be like shouting to the world that she was aging, that she was no longer as strong as she once had been. Hesitantly, I walked to the wooden gate that divided our front lawn from hers and stood there as the package she was carrying threatened to spill from her arms.
Read the paragraph from Liam’s narrative.1I had never been more frightened in my entire life. 2As I stepped onto the diving platform, I waited for instructions from my diving coach. 3Only because his directions were so clear, and because he was so nice, was I able to do it. 4It had all been worth it, I thought, as I changed from my bathing suit back into clothes. 5I had achieved what I had set out to do.
Read the excerpt from Spencer’s narrative.I could not have been more stunned. "He” was a "she”! Our new football coach was a female.My mind drifted to that day last week. We had all been waiting in the locker room to meet our new coach, secretly wondering what he would be like. Would he be tough but fair? Would he be demanding but understanding? Would he motivate us before each game with a rousing speech the way Coach Jackson always had? These thoughts were abruptly interrupted when our new coach entered the locker room, stood before us, and commanded our attention.
Read the excerpt from Dominique’s personal narrative.Tired of waiting for the bus, which was late for the fifth day in a row, I sat leafing through an old magazine I had stuffed in my purse the previous night. It was terribly warm for a September afternoon, and the sun cast fleeting shadows on the bus stop sign with each car that passed. I wondered when the weather would get cooler and when the new bus driver would start arriving on time. It was about then that I first noticed the apparent agitation of the man sitting next to me.Finally, the bus arrived and ambled to a gradual stop directly in front of the restless man. The doors widened, and the bus driver greeted the man with his usual banter in his usual monotone."Good afternoon. How are you today?”
Did you find these answers helpful?