Quote from Forum Archives on April 9, 2003, 12:36 pm

Posted by: homenews <homenews@...>

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
THE HOPE CHEST:
Ideas and Inspiration for Home Education 
April 2003
Issue #55: The Creative Family
Part 3: Creative Writing Samples from Our House
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This is part 3 of the Hope Chest Home School News, published by Virginia
Knowles.
Web site: www.hopechest.homestead.com/welcome.html
Personal e-mail: [email protected]
Subscriptions: [email protected]
Unsubscriptions: [email protected]

Part 3: Creative Writing Samples from Our House

• Creative Writing Tips: An Excerpt from Common Sense Excellence:
  Faith-Filled Home Education for Preschool to 5th Grade by Virginia
  Knowles
• God is... by Andrew Knowles (Kindergarten)
• Elizabeth of Colonial Days by Lydia Knowles (2nd grade)
• Escape from Slavery by Joanna Knowles (4th grade)
• Ben There, Done That by Rachel Knowles (6th grade)
• Prayer of a Slave Child by Rachel Knowles (6th grade)
• Journal Entry of a Patriot Girl by Julia Knowles (8th grade)
• Industry of Influence: Psychology in Advertising by Mary Knowles (10th
  grade)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Creative Writing Tips
An Excerpt from Common Sense Excellence:
Faith-Filled Home Education for Preschool to 5th Grade
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[Virginia’s note: This next paragraph is a very short excerpt from the
seven page Written Composition section of the Language Arts Skills
chapter of my book, Common Sense Excellence, which is a subject by
subject teaching guide. For more information on this book:
www.hopechest.homestead.com/cse.html] If you order this book or The Real
Life Home School Mom by the end of April, I will throw in a copy of
Emilie Barnes’ Decorating Dreams on a Budget for free!

Realistic descriptions: Before you set off on a big writing project,
start at the word, sentence and paragraph level. A full writing
assignment for a 2nd grader might only be two or three sentences at
first. Work at developing the child’s power to describe an object or
situation with specific, interesting words. Many writing teachers explain
that our words should "show and not just tell" and paint a vivid picture
with words so that the reader can imagine it in his head. Instead of
saying "I ate some food," they should progress to telling what kind of
food and how they ate it: "I munched on a crunchy red apple," or "I
gagged on that last disgusting spoonful of slimy noodles." You can make a
game out of this. Give them a very general word, such as furniture, and
then have them get gradually more specific: seat, couch, green couch,
sagging green plaid couch, sagging green plaid couch that is covered with
cat hair. This activity helps teach observation and classification
skills.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The remainder of this section of the Hope Chest includes recent writing
samples from my six school age children, from youngest to oldest. I
usually tell about my kids in the "What’s New at the Knowles House?"
section of the newsletter, but this time, I’ll talk about each one as I
present their writing sample.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
God Is...
by Andrew Knowles
Age 5, Kindergarten
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

God is good.
God is happy.
God is powerful.
God has power.

 

~~

Mom’s note: Short lists are a good way for beginners to ease into the
writing process. Andrew wrote this list on a poster for his bedroom wall.
I think he asked one of his sisters for a little help in spelling, but
the words are straight from his own heart! One educational highlight for
Andrew was when the water company guys came and replaced the meter in the
front yard recently. We were particularly impressed with their cool
truck, which had lots of neat cubbies and caddies to stow all of the
DIFFERENT kinds tools they use. Maybe he should write about that next!

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Elizabeth of Colonial Days
by Lydia Knowles
Age 8, 2nd Grade
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Today it was very rainy. I went to the bakery with my brother William,
who is 15 years of age. We were purchasing blueberry and raspberry tarts,
and I love them!

"Well, here we are at the bakery. Hello, Mr. Hopkins," I said.

"Hello, Elizabeth," Mr. Hopkins returned.

"We want three blueberry tarts and two raspberry tarts," William said.

"Here they are. Three pennies, please." We gave him the money and left.

When we got home, my little sister Esther, who is 5 years of age, woke
up. Then she chose a raspberry tart and devoured it hungrily. I chose a
blueberry tart and savored it slowly.

After I ate breakfast, I looked out the window and saw a much terrifying
sight. An angry mob was throwing rocks at two British soliders. "Lobster
backs!" they cried. The soldiers tried to escape a shower of rocks, but
failed. One was hit on his arm, and the other on his leg.

"You will pay for this!" one soldier proclaimed. Then the mob left.

Just then, my father called me. "Elizabeth, help me in the print shop!" I
left the window and went to the stable to find him hitching up our horse,
Magpie. "Go get Samuel Adams’ article about the Stamp Act from my desk,"
he said.

It was a very bumpy ride along the cobblestone streets, but I controlled
myself enough to hold Magpie’s reins. "Father," I said. "I saw a mob
attacking two British soldiers, and one of them said, ‘ You will pay for
this!’ What did they mean?"

"It means that they are angry and want revenge. I’m afraid that the
British might be starting a war in the colonies. Here we are at our first
stop. Go around and get the bundle of papers in the back." I pulled
Magpie’s reins to stop her, and jumped down from the carriage. After I
put the bundle near our first customer’s doorway, I hopped back up to my
seat and we were on our way again. We made several other stops before we
arrived at the print shop.

John, one of my father’s apprentices, appeared with ink on his apron,
said a quick "Hello," and went back to his work. I also went into the
main room and started preparing the ink. "Now what shall I do?" I asked
Father after I had finished my task.

"Go get the paper from the storage room," he replied. Then George,
Father’s other apprentice, appeared from the storage doorway holding the
paper. "Oh, thank you, George," Father said. "Go run along," he told me.
"Come back in an hour with our lunch from Mother."

~~

Mom’s note: This story isn’t quite finished yet! Lydia wrote this using
what I call the "tandem writing" process. That means I was right there
with her most of the time, coaching her on spelling and punctuation, and
helping her clarify her thoughts and flow. However, she came up with all
the ideas and descriptive language! Lydia is quite the Drama Queen, often
leading her younger brothers and sister in wild pretend adventures with
help from our costume basket. She’s also currently writing a comic play
with Joanna about thieves stealing the Queen’s jewels. Despite her wiggly
"kinesthetic" learning style, she learns much from reading historical
fiction. Lydia is also a talented young artist. Her colored pencil
drawings minister to me, as I look at Jesus on the cross, or a woman
crying out to God in prayer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
ESCAPE FROM SLAVERY
by Joanna Knowles
Age 10, 4th Grade
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[This is just an excerpt of the story. We are coming in at the middle!]

"Mama," I whispered, "When do we leave?

"Real soon," she said. "We just got to say bye to Auntie." Although it
was dim, I could tell that she was crying.

"Bye, Auntie, I hope I see you again."

Auntie was weeping. "Maddie dear, I hope you’re not caught! I wish you
luck," she said.

"I think we’d better be going," Mama whispered. We looked both ways,
hoping no one would see us, and quickly ran into the forest.

"We will have to go through this swamp," Papa was saying.

"I’m not going through that. It has bloodsuckers!"

"If you don’t want the bloodhounds catching you, you’re going through
that!"

"You should have said that earlier." I quickly dashed in. 

 

Mama yelled out in pain. When she stepped in, a watersnake had bitten her.

"We can’t go through with her in this condition," Papa muttered. We
found a hollow tree that we huddled in together. Papa brought out some
ashcake that he had brought. I was so hungry now that I could eat the
tobacco worms that had been stuffed in my mouth by the overseer! I ate
every crumb of it. We stayed there for a couple days while Mama’s bite
finally got better.

We left again and walked for a few miles until we came out of the forest
and saw a little house with blue shutters. I knocked on the door and a
lady wearing a black dress opened the door. The woman said, "Welcome! I
guess thee must be the fugitive slaves I was supposed to meet."

"Yes ma’am," Papa said heartily.

"Come in. My, are thee dirty! I have some better clothes for thee." She
brought out a bright blue dress with white flowers sprinkled over it for
my mama. For my father there were some trousers. Then she said, "Now I
saved the best for last," and took out a pale yellow dress with an over
layer of lace. I gasped. I had never worn anything like that.
"It’s b-b-beautiful," I stuttered.

"Try it on," she urged. I slipped it over my head. It felt cool against
my skin. She let us admire each other for a minute, then we were rushed
over to the table and served venison and potatoes plus an apple cake. We
stared at the feast in front of us. I had never seen so much food at
once. We savored all the food slowly. When we were done I was tucked into
bed by Mama. I slept soundly, dreaming of Canada. In my dream I wore
store-bought fancy clothes.

I woke up to the lady shaking me. Her face was frightened. "Get up. These
men called pattyrollers are here and they are trying to find thee!" We
all woke up at once. "I have a hiding place," the lady said. She lifted
up the mattress. There was a big hollow space there. "Climb in quick,
otherwise they will find thee." She laid the mattress on top of us. We
had a little breathing hole we could look through. We saw two dirty men,
plus the constable, rush in.

"Where did you hide them this time, Quaker Hornet?"

"I don’t know what thee are talking about, Sir, but would you like some
of my homemade cookies and raspberry tea?"

The pattyrollers got confused and said, "We will catch you red-handed
some day. Then you will spend the rest of your life in jail." They left
angrily.

 

The Quaker waited for a few moments, then lifted the mattress.
"Thee should better eat in the closet," and some bread and jam came out,
which we devoured. "I think thee should be on thy way now. The
pattyrollers are probably going to come back soon. Oh wait, I just
remembered to tell thee when thee come up to one of our ‘stations,’ if
they ask who it is, just say ‘a friend with friends.’ That’s the
Underground Railroad’s password. Thee better leave right now. At the door
thee will be picked up by Mr. Burgson. He is one of our conductors. He
will bring thee to thy destination in his wagon. Quiet, I think I hear
him. When he is at the door, slip out real quick and go inside a big box
attached to the bottom of the wagon. Now go!" My feet felt like they were
frozen to the floor and my heart was beating. "I said go, child!"

~~

Mom’s note: This is just part of the story, which is way too long to
include here! Joanna is a very creative writer when she gets going! She
likes to let the ideas flow without ANY concern for punctuation in the
rough draft stage. Then we work on the "mechanics" together. Joanna has
read dozens of books about slavery and the Underground Railroad, which
has given her a wealth of background information and ideas.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ben There, Done That
by Rachel Knowles
Then age 11, 6th Grade
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I don’t know what hit me. There I was, driving down 436, minding my own
business, and then suddenly the scenery changed. I didn’t see the
McDonalds off the road. The Texaco gas station wasn’t there anymore. What
is going on? I thought. Am I losing my mind?

"Oh my!" I exclaimed. The modern stores vanished, and were replaced with
a building with a sign that said GENERAL STORE. What? As I looked out the
other side of my car window, I saw another building with a sign that said
Bear Claw Inn. Okay, settle down. Don’t freak out.

As I drove my car over to a mostly bald patch of dirt to park, I noticed
a man wearing glasses with an equally bald head. I’ve seen this man
before. "Oh no, uh uh, it can’t be!" I jumped out of my white Mercury
Cougar and ran toward him. "Benjamin Franklin, Sir!" He turned around to
see who had shouted his name. I scurried up to him. "Um, excuse me, um,
Benjamin Franklin, Sir. Where exactly am I?" He looked at me like I was
crazy. He probably has a problem with my clothes, I thought as I looked
down at my comfortable T-shirt and jeans. As he looked past me, his eyes
grew enormously wide.

Oh great, what’s the problem now? I whirled around to see what he was
gaping at.

"What, may I ask, is that device or machine?" asked Mr. Franklin in an
astonished tone. "It is even more complex than my fire engine."

"That, Mr. Franklin, would be my car. Also known as an automobile."

"Does it move?"

"Of course it moves!"

"Would you mind if I tried it?"

"Actually, I would mind, ‘cause if you crashed, I would get sued. Why
don’t I take you for a drive in it?"

"That would be wonderful!" He followed me to my shiny new car and I
pressed the unlock button on my little "car remote" as I call it. Opening
the door, I gestured to him to step in. He did, and I closed the door. I
climbed into the driver’s seat and started the car.

Mr. Franklin noticed my cellphone on the dashboard. "Amazing!" he
exclaimed. "Let me see that, if you do not mind. Extraordinary!" He
fiddled around with it and pressed the buttons.

"Wait, Mr. Franklin, don’t press those. You might accidentally call
someone."

"What do you mean - call someone?"

"When you press those buttons, you’re calling someone. That means you’re
connecting with someone far away. Let me show you." I took the phone from
his hands and dialed my friend’s number.

"Hello?" A voice said from the other line.  Mr. Franklin gasped.

"That... is calling someone."

Although his face still had a confused look on it, he said, "Oh, I see."
He looked around for more of my rad stuff to fiddle with. He noticed my
discman on the back seat. He leaned back, picked it up, and turned it
round and round.

Worried that he would break one of my personal belongings, I stated,
"Okay, Mr. Franklin, I think our car ride was long enough." I stopped the
car, got out, and opened his door.

"Thank you for the ride. I appreciate that."

"You’re very welcome, Mr. Franklin. Oh, and by the way, you can have
that." I motioned to the discman he was still holding. "I don’t like it
anyway. My CD in it is boring, so you can have that too. Goodbye, Mr.
Franklin, enjoy the discman."

Sadly, but with a sigh of relief, I got back into the car and put the key
in the ignition. As I turned it, I saw the Golden Arches glowing in front
of me. That was too weird, I thought to myself as I drove in the
direction of home.

~~

Mom’s note: One of Julia’s and Rachel’s EXCEL assignments was to write
about traveling back in time with some modern conveniences. Which ones
would the people back then find especially interesting or useful?
Rachel’s favorite area of creativity is SINGING, but as you can see,
she’s an imaginative writer, too! In fact, I couldn’t resist putting in a
second sample from Rachel...

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Prayer of a Slave Child
by Rachel Knowles
Then age 11, 6th grade
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lord Jesus, hear my plea!
Please, don’ tear my Ma from me.
I must stay wi’ her, sho’ thing.
She is all I have left, for my daddy was
shot when he was tryin’ to ‘scape,
from the white man who held him in dos’ chains.
Den dey take me and my Ma to what they call de block,
where dey look us ova to see if we is strong.
And den dey sell us to dos’ white people,
who make us work all de day long.
But fo’ some reason, Lord, dat not what I scared ‘bout.
I scared dey gonna take my Ma from me, dat all I scared ‘bout.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
DESCRIPTION OF WRITING PROJECTS OF
Julia Knowles
13 years old, 8th grade
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mom’s note: Julia doesn’t want me to include any of her writing samples.
That’s a pity, because they are REALLY good! Her writing has blossomed
this year under the tutelage of Mrs. Dawn Strobeck, her Excel
history/writing class teacher. Well, I can’t include the sample that I
wanted to share with you, but I can tell you about it! The assignment was
to write nine journal entries from the perspective of a young person
living in Colonial / Revolutionary War times. Each entry was printed on
off-white paper in an old-fashioned script font, and then the edges were
burned to make them look old. They also had to draw a small illustration
of each story for the cover of the journal. Julia picked the persona of
Miss Liberty Grace Smith, who would go on to marry Mr. Peter Bell. Get
it? Her married name would be Liberty Bell!

One of Julia’s more recent projects was to write a paper about abortion
in preparation for a speech and a debate. When she asked me for
information on this topic, I handed her a fat file folder full of
brochures and articles that I have collected over the years. She pretty
much took it from there. Her last paragraph is especially touching to me,
as I see her coming to terms with her own beliefs instead of just blindly
accepting mine! This is the way her speech ends (and yes, she did give me
permission to share this):

"I was brought up in a pro-life home, and was always taught that abortion
is wrong. That is just where I stood. But after I actually researched and
learned about it, I understood why I don’t support abortion. It is
inhumane and more people need to be informed about it so it will come to
an end. I pray that not ONE more life is taken away because of this
cruel, selfish, and sinful act. Please join with me to stand firm, state
what we believe and fight for babies’ lives. Twenty babies have just been
killed in the time of my speech."

Julia gave her speech recently at her EXCEL class, and I hear she did an
awesome job on it. Way to go, Julia!

One of Julia’s other areas of creativity is piano playing. Right now, she
is practicing "The Prayer" to accompany her friend Alex for our support
group’s Promotion Night next month.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Industry of Influence: Psychology in Advertising
(Overview of a Research Paper)
by Mary Knowles
Age 15, 10th grade
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mary Knowles
January 27, 2002

Computers are to liberation as tires are to security. What kind of
analogy is this? Answer: It is part of the psychological language that
advertising agencies send to the American public. Many advertisements
effectively sell their products or services through the simple use of
flashy colors and fancy type, but there are others which send actual
psychological messages to the consumer. Whether overt or subtle, these
messages affect consumers, even the cynical ones, more than they know.

The exploration of these messages is the purpose of my research paper.
Popular messages among advertising agencies include security, freedom,
acceptance of diversity, and -- America’s sweetheart -- sex appeal.
Negative messages, such as guilt, are used effectively also. Advertising
agencies use these messages to produce particular moods in their target
audience, and ultimately to sell the product or service.

A target audience is the specialized group which sees specific ads. Ads
printed in a bicycling magazine will be aimed at bicyclists, taking into
mind their needs and attitudes. Ads aired on a childrens’ cartoon program
will appeal to children and cater to their desires. Knowledge of the
target audience is paramount to agencies placing psychological messages
in ads.

To illustrate psychological messages in action, the research paper will
discuss examples of both successful and unsuccessful ad campaigns. It
will explain what messages made these campaigns so well remembered, well
loved, or well hated. It will also ask whether these messages actually
sold the product or sold an image, and will briefly touch on how people
are affected by the messages placed before them.

The topic of psychology in advertising is a fascinating and multi-faceted
one. Advertising not only reflects modern attitudes, it partners in
creating them. To some degree, the research paper will explore this
process. The main aim of the paper, however, is to take a peek at the
industry where business means proclaiming ideas, implying paradigms, and
influencing minds and souls.

~~

Mom’s note: This was the overview of a research paper that Mary wrote for
her Honor’s English class at Smith Prep, the one day a week classical
Christian school that she attends. The final product included an outline,
an eight page report, and a formal bibliography. She won’t be attending
Smith next year (though it has been wonderful for her!), but plans to
continue her essay grading job there. Mary has developed her creative
skills in photography through classes at the Crealde School of Art. We
are grateful that she won a scholarship to their advanced teen
photography class recently.