Showing posts with label 函函的非命题作文. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 函函的非命题作文. Show all posts

Monday, December 22, 2008

When Things Can't Be Answered

These two sentences are from Plato and a Platypus Walk Into a Bar...Understanding Philosophy Through Jokes. What do you make of them?
True or false: This sentence is false.

If a man tries to fail and succeeds, which did he do?

In the first sentence, if the sentence is true that it is false, then that means the sentence is false that it is false, because then it is admitting that the sentence is false, but the sentence itself is false, so the sentence is true. This isn't the conclusion, however, because then you wind up where you started at. The same goes if you say that the sentence is false, because then you would be saying the sentence is false in saying it's false, which has to mean the sentence is true, but that wouldn't make sense, because you said the sentence was false in the first place. This doesn't have a proper answer.

In the second sentence, the man could have succeeded in the subject, and failed in failing, or he could have succeeded in failing. You can't conclude properly here either, because he could have failed his subject, or succeeded.

Do you have an answer to them?

Thursday, November 27, 2008

A Thanksgiving Story

Autumn gazed sadly at the November calendar. The X’s marking the end of a day were slowly drawing closer to the tiny, evil column dated November 27, which signaled the day she would be lying on a plate without feathers and a head. Slowly she wrenched her gaze from the jaunty page with a turkey on the top and resigned to pacing about in her pen with other gobble fowl. They were fine, because they weren’t selected to be eaten. Hadn’t she heard the farmer single her out? He had said, “Autumn would be a nice feast on Thanksgiving. Good thing Ben Franklin’s wild turkey wasn’t chosen as the national bird!” The couple had departed laughing, leaving poor Autumn to brood over her newfound misery.

It was the turkey naptime, but Autumn couldn’t sleep. She just sat there, doing nothing, when she noticed something glittering outside the fence of the coop. It sparkled a bright azure against the dry, yellow grass. Autumn couldn’t resist; she had to find out what the thing was. As she pondered, she realized the farmer had left the door of the pen swinging open. Hardly daring to believe it, Autumn strutted forward and gave the gate a gentle push. Now it opened wide enough to admit freedom! She could quickly escape, but first, she needed to identify the blue object. So Autumn walked forward to the blue glitter, and gasped at the real thing.

A gigantic sapphire, about the size of a chicken egg, lay there casually. Centering it was an emerald that served as a sort of button. The whole blue mass was fringed with gold, and attached was a golden chain, so the jewel could be worn like a necklace. Gingerly Autumn flipped it over, and read a tiny golden script:
Time Traveling Device
Put around your neck,
Think of your destination,
And press the emerald.


Breathless with delight, Autumn found something better than escape. She could save the turkeys of past, present, and future, not just herself! Slipping the chain over her head, Autumn thought vividly of the National Bird Election, and pressed the emerald.

Nothing happened.

Sighing dejectedly, Autumn was about to take off the gem when a blinding white flash hit her head-on. Squawking with fright, she stumbled backwards into a green lawn as the flash dispersed.

A green lawn? This was not the old run-down barn of Farmer John. Autumn looked about. Across the neatly trimmed lawn was a great, colossal mansion of a grayish color. The White House! she realized. Only this was the time before it was painted white to cover burns. Inside was the National Bird Election! Autumn hurried forward and, after a minute’s hesitation, stepped inside.

Suddenly Autumn found herself in a great, spacious room with a table in the center. On the table was a box, probably containing votes for the National Bird! She hopped onto the table to investigate. Next to the box were 2 piles of paper. One said “Bald Eagle.” The other said “Wild Turkey.” Autumn knew what to do. Quickly she unlatched the box, and rummaging, found all the Bald Eagle votes. She couldn’t replace everything; that would be suspicious. The clever turkey put back some of the votes for Bald Eagles, and replaced the rest with Wild Turkey votes. Then she rearranged the pile until it was as neat as before, and latched the box again. Now everything was just right. Elated with success, Autumn slipped on the Time Traveling Device, and pressed the emerald while thinking of home. Another flash, and Autumn was there next to the coop. She went inside and hid the sapphire under some hay, then went to sleep liked the rest.

It was Thanksgiving, and Autumn watched with satisfaction as Farmer John ate pork chops with his family. She heard him say, “Turkeys were original, but you can’t eat the National Bird!” He chuckled to himself, the rest of the family laughing.

Autumn could never feel more happy.

[本镜按]吾观美利坚开国之初,百废待兴,百业待举,择国鸟一事,亦迫在眉睫,本君弗兰克林排众议,力荐本土之奇鸟,俗名唤作火鸡者也,本君为其著文立传,咏其诸多美德,然温良之品性难敌霸道之气势,国鸟殊荣终旁落秃鹰之项。今吾辈观之,唯一笑耳。
时值感恩佳节,函函之师嘱其作文议事,述火鸡何以逃此一劫,遂成此文。然,细观小女之伎俩,为母堪忧,古人云“管中窥豹,可见一斑”,民主竞选,竟然作弊,歪思邪念,必当遏之于萌芽,方不负开国先贤之鲜血头颅,继往开来,为寰宇诸国树清新之风,辟静好之世,则吾国幸甚,吾民幸甚。

Thursday, July 10, 2008

On Michael's Island, I Rode a Boar!

Here is a story Michael the naturalist told at one of his talks at the Golden Princess about a part of his two year stay at an isolated island in Alaska:

When Michael told his Italian mother about his stay on the lonely island at Alaska, she immediately reached into her bag of Italian superstitions.
"Oh Michael," she whispered. "My eye is twitching! That surely means a death!"
Speaking of his mother, this woman was a city girl. Every Wednesday, she went to have her nails done. Every Saturday, she had her hair done. And she was never more than two miles from a mall.
Despite his superstitious mother, Michael went to his destination anyway.
One day, the Coast Guard arrived in a float plane near Michael's cabin. There was a telegraph with them. It was from his mother:
MICHAEL, I'M COMING TO YOUR ISLAND
He was surprised. Michael's island was more than a hundred miles away from the nearest shopping mall. But even the date was included on the paper.
Before his mother arrived, Michael received another telegraph:
MICHAEL, CARRY A LOADED RIFLE WITH YOU AT ALL TIMES. BOTH OF MY EYES ARE TWITCHING. THAT MEANS TWO DEATHS!
On the promised date, Michael's mother arrived in a float plane, expectantly clutching a purse.
The three days went by perfectly. Nothing went wrong, the rifle was always prepared, and they even caught a ten-pound fish together.
The third night, the two were eating spaghetti with his mother's best tomato sauce from Cicily packed in her suitcase. They drank coffee and tea together, because they didn't want to let go of each other. The next morning, Michael's mother would have to leave. Finally, they went to bed.
At 2:00 AM, Michael's mother had to go to the bathroom.
At 2:01 AM, Michael heard a blood-curdling scream.
We must hit PAUSE. Before Michael's mother arrived, a Russian introduced four wild pigs to the island. They bred faster than rabbits! Soon there were forty wild boars running around the small island.
There was also a cougar in the island. Every third night, he would come out to hunt for a juicy, fat pig or two to bring home and satisfy his carnivorous appetite.
Pigs are smart. They learned the cougar's stealthy death pattern and figured that to escape the cougar, they needed someplace to go. Somewhere that they could hide.
Unfortunately, the hiding spot was Michael's outhouse. When Michael built it, he didn't make a door. Why bother? His nearest human neighbor was twelve miles away. And it was so relaxing to sit and watch the bald eagles soar by.
It was the third night of the cougar hunt, and there were the pigs, piled up in the tiny outhouse. So Michael grabbed his gun and rushed outside. He pointed it at a pink figure standing in front of him. But he couldn't pull the trigger. That was his MOTHER standing right there! He dropped the rifle and stared at the comical sight in the light of the full moon.
His mother was holding her nightgown up to her knee on one side, like one would do when a mouse scurries by. But this wasn't a 'shoo, mousy' matter. There were pigs darting through his mother's legs.
Women and children first. The baby pigs were first to come squealing out of the outhouse. Then the mamas, the the papas. By this time, the boars were so big that Michael's mother's legs were shaking as the enormous bulk of fat and fur squeezed between her legs.
Here was an interesting totem pole with an interesting story: Woman Giving Birth To Pigs. Or rather: Woman In Frilly Pink Nightgown Giving Birth To Pigs.
No, the pigs weren't done yet. There was one more. A three-hundred pound beast with five-inch long tusks: Boarest. "Mom, run!" She couldn't. Worse, she had a mild case of jelly legs, where you legs shake like mad.
But Michael was friendly with the pigs. He called them by name and threw them excess fish for food. And big Boarest understood that the thing was a babe of the woods, and she meant him no harm at all. So he bowed his head before running out, and he didn't gore Michael's mother. But with a lowered head, he couldn't see where he was going, and he bumped the shaking pink thing. Michael watched as his mother flew into the air, and landed on the pig's back.
Who was screaming louder, his mother or the surprised pig? An animal's most sensitive parts are the nose and ears. His mother was twisting Boarest's ears like they were rope. The the boar started running crazily across the tundra before tossing off his rider.
Oh no! The grass was tall, and Michael couldn't find his mother. Then there was a flash of pink. His mother sat up, her favorite laced pink nightgown from Cicily all matted in boar hair.
When Michael and his two older brothers meet each other, they arm wrestle to see who's stronger. And their mother would always say, "You boys think you're so tough. But on Michael's island, I found a two-thousand pound boar and I rode him. I got him to turn left, then right, before I calmly dismounted. And we caught an eight-hundred pound fish together."
A few weeks ago, Michael received a call.
"Michael, I'm going to your island again. If you can get me a brown bear and saddle him up, I'm sure he would let me ride him."

Wednesday, June 25, 2008

Tragedy: A Lament

                                                                                by Hannah Wang

Who shot the poison arrow,
Destined for great sorrow,
Making us a graveyard?
What happened to days
Where young girls dreamed away,
Not spinning a single shard?
Where are the boys,
Who caused great noise,
Where now lays eerie silence?
Where are the children who filled the ponds,
Now vanished, never to respond,
As though there was a bout of violence?
What happened to our lovely home,
That is now covered and filled with loam,
What happened to the Place of Peace?

Who fired the arrow of disease?

Wednesday, June 18, 2008

Toxic Teacher?

I was educated that some cleansing subatances were harmful to the lungs of little children, not necessarily adults, though. So when our first-grade teacher started to clean the windows, I started to panick, not a good thing. "Everyone hold your breath! The cleanser is bad for your lungs!" I practically shouted. Cheeks were puffed up and faces turned red everywhere around me.
Then my teacher explained that she was using water.
Oh. Sorry about that!

Sunday, June 15, 2008

Eating Patterns

JACOB GODDARD, 13
No breakfast
9:15 a.m. Snack
10:00 a.m. Snack
11:30 a.m. Lunch
12:00 p.m. Snack
12:30 p.m. Snack
1:00 p.m. Snack
2:15 p.m. Snack
3:15 p.m. Snack
4:15 p.m. Snack
4:45 p.m. Early dinner

JASMINE LEDEZMA, 13
7:00 a.m. Breakfast
11:45 a.m. Lunch
3:30 p.m. Snack
8:00 p.m. Dinner

NICHOLAS RICHARDS, 14
7:30 a.m. Breakfast
12:00 p.m. Lunch
3:30 p.m. Snack
4:00 p.m. Snack
5:00 p.m. Snack
6:30 p.m. Dinner
9:00 p.m. Late snack

HANNAH WANG, 9
7:30 a.m. Breakfast
11:40 a.m. Lunch
7:00 Dinner

There is a snack thrown in here or there some days to add to my eating pattern, but that is my main thing...
Information from TIMES magazine.

Here is the difference between four children and their eating patterns: a suburban 13-year old girl, a rural 13-year old boy, an urban 14-year old boy, and another suburban 9-year old girl!

Wednesday, May 28, 2008

The Revenge of Lillian


By Hannah Wang

To my sister Melody when she is older.
With love from the author



Prologue

It was a quiet, still, evening. The restless prince could not go to sleep, so he sat up and gazed out his window at the eerie-looking Maple Valley in front of the palace.

A full silver moon happened to pass directly overhead, beams glowing softly on the graceful curve of the two hills. What the prince witnessed next took his breath away. The moonbeams slowly took shape. A head, a torso, arms, a body, legs, a person. Or rather a girl. A lovely, beautiful girl. She drifted across Maple Valley, calling out something inaudible. Then she faded gradually. The stricken prince fainted onto his feather bed.


Chapter One: LIL

A peasant boy named Paul went out of his hut to feed his hen Buttercup. She clucked happily and greedily pecked away the seeds. When she was finished, Paul went back inside and found a handsome leather hornbook on his doorstep, his name printed neatly outside. He gingerly picked it up and called to his mother. “I’ve found a hornbook with my name at our doorstep.” Although the small hornbook looked suspicious, Paul’s mother found nothing wrong with it. “It’s yours to keep,” she said, and went back to clear the dishes.

Taking it to the kitchen table, Paul took out his inkpot and quill, when Buttercup hopped onto the table. “Oh you,” he sighed exasperatedly, and carried Buttercup outside. When he came back in, however, something was already written on the hornbook page.


“Lil?” he thought. “Who wrote that?”


Chapter Two: I AM LILLIAN

The next day, Paul rose out of his blanket and got out his hornbook. Something else was also written on the second page.


The same shaky handwriting. Paul was scared for some reason. The same thing wrote both messages, and it could not be his mother for sure.

Suddenly, a chilling something brushed across the back of Paul’s neck. He whirled around, but nothing was in sight. In a heavy sweat he slowly turned around. There was something unusual going on. The day saw Paul passing it with a feverish mind.

That night he had a dream. A young girl had slipped from a ledge and was now falling, her long trailing red hair billowing behind her like a cape. Her light turquoise eyes were frightened, but at the same time there was a red-hot coal of hatred. The ground was getting closer, closer, closer, level. She collapsed unconscious, perhaps dead. Then Paul woke up, bits of his dream flashing vividly through his mind.


Chapter Three: The Vision

Paul stared at ‘LIL’ and “I AM LILLIAN.’ Then he thought about his strange dream. The messages, the touch, the dream…Were they, could they…be connected? His hornbook messages were written with a shaky hand, the touch was like a cold finger, and his dream had a girl that was killed… Could the girl be…Lillian? Could her ghost be visiting him? He tried to shake off the thought, but it remained firmly lodged inside his brain.

Suddenly, the world around him blurred, and then a misty white fog obscured his vision. The same girl stood in front of Paul, almost transparent. In a haunting, echoing voice, she spoke three words.

“Find my revenge.”


She disappeared, and Paul stood still for a long time.

“Paul, dear, have you finished sweeping the floor?”

The voice brought Paul back to earth. “Sorry mother, I-I drifted off,” he stammered.

“Well,” replied his mother, “then hustle along. Buttercup will be expecting her feed soon.”

Paul grabbed the broken broom and started to sweep, but he couldn’t concentrate.

“Paul!”

Lillian asked me to find her revenge.

“Paul!”

I need to find the person who killed her.

“PAUL!!!”

The booming voice startled him and brought Paul back to reality and out of his racing thoughts.

“Yes, mother?” he asked feebly.

Paul’s mother strode in; her cheeks flushed a bright pink. “Goodness me, are you deaf?” she cried. “I’ve been trying to tell you I’ll be at the miller’s for a little. And do hurry the sweeping. Buttercup won’t let me feed her.”

Paul tried to spend the rest of the day normally.


Chapter Four: The Notice

In the late afternoon, Paul went out for a walk. He came across a booth that had a notice. Ignoring it, he went past.

Look at the notice.

Paul froze. He heard a voice inside his head that wasn’t his own. Doubling back, he read the notice. It was about an outlaw murderer named Fire Beard. The king offered a large reward for his capture, and a larger one for his murder.

Mine.

All of a sudden, Paul understood. The culprit was Lillian’s murderer. He needed to kill him.

Maple Valley.

So Lillian was requesting Fire Beard be killed at Maple Valley.

Paul went home and told his mother he wanted to search for the outlaw Fire Beard. At first she protested, but when it became clear her son had set his mind, she gave in, but ordered he be back at the sundown of ten days later. So Paul bid farewell to his weeping mother, and set off for Maple Valley. It wasn’t too far away. Paul slept for the night.


Chapter Five: At Maple Valley

In the morning, Paul got up and reached Maple Valley by noon. He sat down and ate his loaf of bread, made especially well by his mother as a farewell token. Sighing deeply, he was about to lay down for a good nap when a head popped up in front of him. The face was oddly familiar.

Then Paul realized who the ugly man in front of him was.

Fire Beard!!!

Paul smelled Fire Beard’s smelly breath and rotting teeth bared in a ferocious grin. Alarmed, Paul realized this was a battle for his life.

“Aaaaarrrrghhhh!!!!” Paul gave a loud whoop and gave Fire Beard a sound kick in the stomach. Fire Beard grunted painfully and stopped just long enough so Paul could get a head start.

But for a fat, dirty, middle-aged man with a sore stomach, Fire Beard was pretty fast. Soon Paul had to bust out all the energy he had stored from the loaf of bread and the rest. Then the racing duet reached the stony hills. Paul grasped a firm root and started climbing, while Fire Beard’s massive bulk kept getting in the way. Paul was gaining the upper hand. Now there was a good reason to be small and skinny for his age. He was ascending, climbing, higher, higher…

Suddenly there was only a flat stone face in front of him. Paul halted abruptly. This was the end. He had nothing but a thorny branch that could help him get up twenty of stone face. Even with his small size, the branch would not support him.


Chapter Six: Revenge Fulfilled

Paul could not do anything; he would be trapped even if he went to the side. And Fire Beard was getting closer. By the sound of his panting, he was about one rod behind him. He was going to die…

“NO! NO! You are dead!” Gently easing his neck around, he saw Fire Beard with a panicked face. Paul spotted a faint glittering. Lillian?

“NOOO!!!” Fire Beard howled and suddenly lost his grip. Down he fell…

.He is dead.

Lillian sounded satisfied. Slowly, Paul found his way down. Fire Beard was gone forever. Then the soil cleared. Paul gasped.

There was a dead carcass. The body had long red hair. Its blank half-open eyes were light blue. The pale skin was wearing thin. Any clothes left were muddy and full of holes. The mouth was slightly gaping. Then the soil flew back over and the carcass disappeared. Taking the body of Fire Beard, he journeyed to the king’s Palace.

*                                                                      *                                                                      *


Sitting in his manor, Paul relaxed. A servant brought him a cup of tea. Sipping daintily, he slouched on a velvet chair filled with cushions when there was a now-familiar voice inside his head.

Thank you.

He smiled.


Epilogue

The Prince looked out the window. There was Maple Valley in front of him.

A full silver moon passed by. Once again, the moonbeams took shape. There was Lillian Paul had told him about. But the sad, melancholy look on her face was gone.
In place was a satisfied smile, almost a smirk. Fire Beard would kill no more.

Friday, May 9, 2008

Abraham Lincoln

1. Experiences/Influences
Abraham Lincoln’s first goal was to become president. The first step he took was that when he was 23, he decided to run for Illinois state legislature, but was defeated. After 2 more years, Lincoln ran for state legislature again. This time he placed second and was one of the four elected to the Illinois House of Representatives. Lincoln was also advised to take up the study of law. He accepted, and had been elected to a second term in state legislature. He also took a job as junior partner in John Todd Stuart’s law office.
Soon after, Abe had an eye for the Congress. In 1846, Lincoln was elected to a seat at the Congress. But his 2-year term was a disappointment. No real action had been taken. He returned to full-time study of the law.
Before Lincoln would become president, however, another problem was rising: slavery. It was something Lincoln disliked, and became another goal for him: to abolish slavery. He held 7 debates with his long-time rival, Stephen A. Douglas, for the Senate. Lincoln lost the election, but the debates had catapulted him to national prominence. He was even mentioned as a possible president, an idea he took up. Later, he ran for it, taking the advice of Grace Bedell, who suggested he should grow a beard to boost his chances of winning. On November 6, 1860, Abraham Lincoln was elected president.
Now his only goals were about slavery and the departing South. All compromises Lincoln tried to make failed, and the South was ready for war. Finally, it started when President Lincoln sent supplies to Fort Sumter. He set yet another goal: to end the war as quickly as possible.
It wasn’t easy. Lincoln could not find suitable generals.
Meanwhile, President Lincoln came up with an idea for the slavery problem. He wrote an Emancipation Proclamation, stating that if the rebels didn’t return by January 1, all the remaining Confederate slaves would be freed “thenceforward and forever.” However, the rebels did not return to the Union by the deadline. The Southern slaves were freed in America.
Many slaves joined the Union, but Lincoln still couldn’t find a good general. It went on, until he met Ulysses S. Grant, the general he had been looking for. He appointed Grant general in chief of all Union armies.
Down in Georgia, General Sherman finally pushed his way to Atlanta, setting the city in flames. Soon, after a string of Union victories, the South surrendered. 5 days later, Lincoln was shot by John Wilkes Booth, so ending the Civil War was the last major goal the president would ever accomplish.

2. Character Trait
I think Abraham Lincoln was a confident person. It takes confidence to deliver supplies when you know it might start a war and to keep plowing on without surrendering even when everything is going downhill. During a debate, when a rival called Lincoln “two-faced,” Lincoln responded, “I leave it to my audience. If I had another face, do you think I’d wear this one?” He learned to laugh at his looks, and brushed aside any insults or ridicules in the news paper, though he kept pieces which praised him. Lincoln was also a very confident man ever since he was young, because he would run for important positions and (over time) was not scared of public speeches and debates. Lincoln even ignored the multiple death threats that arrived in his mail every day after the war, believing that they were only meant to scare him, until he was shot at Ford’s Theatre on April 14, 1865. One thing he was renowned for is his jokes, which he told as greetings, and made him a very confident person. We know him as an American hero who freed the slaves by starting a war, which took confidence. And it also made Lincoln very confident when he declared the Emancipation Proclamation, making the slaves forever free, although there was a risk Kentucky, Missouri, Maryland, and Delaware, who were loyal to the Union, but held slaves, would secede. All this made him very confident, and also thoughtful and caring, because the main point of the Civil War was about slavery and keeping the United States together, and you could see that he cared for people and the nation.

3. Personal Successes or Contributions to our society
The thing Abraham Lincoln did that he was most renowned is that he freed the slaves of the South. This may have changed our lives a great deal, for if the Emancipation Proclamation had never been announced, why, people might not realize the cruelty of slavery for a while, and about the only place you would see blacks are in the South plantations for a time. He also brought the North and South together, when the South had seceded. If he didn’t, you might need a passport to get into states like Texas or Georgia, instead of just airplane tickets or car drives. Lincoln had changed the lives of whites and blacks the same. Had he not come along, you would most likely still see WANTED posters everywhere on stores and buildings, and the sound of a whip would still break through the air of the South much longer than 1862. Who knows? Maybe the act would spread throughout the entire United States, to Mexico, and even Canada, if not stopped as early! But no. The United States is still completely united, and slavery has become illegal. Abraham Lincoln has changed the course of American history.

4. Reader’s Personal Reflections
What I found admirable about Lincoln is how he could take action and gain confidence rapidly. No insults would do more than slightly rile him, he just went on to end the Civil War, halt slavery, and run for any position he thought he might like. I don’t know if I can truly ever achieve that, but all the same, his life taught me some lessons. It is all right to speak up for things that others have another opinion of, especially now we have freedom of speech, for you have a right to feel how you feel, and say what you want to say. This is America. And also, laugh at your imperfections.


-By Hannah Wang

Sunday, April 13, 2008

a book report: character trait

The name of my book is titled ‘Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry.’ The author is Mildred D. Taylor, and the main character is Cassie Logan.
In the story, the main problem is that a boy named T.J. Avery was always a pest and a bother. He stole Stacey’s coat and fired their mother’s job as a teacher. H was spoiled, and the Logans disliked him very much.
The solution was that one night; T.J. broke into a store with his “friends” R.W. and Melvin to get an expensive pearl-handled pistol. But then R.W. and Melvin ran away to tell the police, and the Avery family was arrested. But in T.J.’s absence, Cassie realized maybe T.J. wasn’t so bad after all. If he was there, they would have been friends.
A minor problem was that when Cassie and Little Man went to school, the front cover of the books showed a piece of information stating that the “nigras” treated the books “very poorly.” When they pointed it out to their teacher, Miss Crocker, they were whipped.
The solution was that when Miss Logan was presented the neglected books, instead of scolding Little Man and Cassie, pasted paper over all of the front covers of the books so they wouldn’t feel insulted.
I think Cassie Logan’s strongest trait is that she is attentive.
Evidence 1: This moon shows that Cassie was an attentive person. The author used action to show this trait.
“After Mr. Morrison had retired to his own house and Big Ma, the boys, and I had gone to bed, Papa and Mama remained on the porch, talking in hushed whispers. It was comforting listening to them, Mama’s voice a warm, lilting murmur, Papa’s a quiet, easy-flowing hum. After a few minutes they left the porch and their voices grew faint. I climbed from the bed, careful not to awaken Big Ma, and went to the window. They were walking slowly across the moon-soaked grass, their arms around each other.”
This evidence from the book shows that the main character, Cassie, was an attentive person. She was supposed to be in bed, but when she heard her parents talking outside, stayed up to listen, although her parents probably wouldn’t have wanted her to listen, which made her very attentive. The moon had come out that night, so that’s why I chose this moon for my item.
Evidence 2: These beans also prove that Cassie is attentive. Once again, the author used action to show this trait.
“As the three of them washed up on the back porch, Mama went to the end of the porch where Papa stood alone.
“What did Mr. Jamison want?” she asked, her voice barely audible. Papa took the towel but did not answer immediately. I was just outside dipping out the butter beans. I moved closer to the window so that I could hear his answer.”
This second piece of evidence also shows that Cassie was attentive. While preparing dinner, she heard her parents talking about important matters through an open window. Usually someone would just ignore other discussions, but for Cassie, it didn’t just slip by, which made her very attentive. She had been dipping out butter beans at the minute, so that’s why I brought some beans for my item.
Evidence 3: This quilt is something else that shows Cassie is attentive. The author used action to show this.
“A few moments later Big Ma came in, leaving the door to Mama’s room open. Knowing she would be suspicious of such an early surrender to sleep, I sighed softly and, making sleepy little sounds, turned onto my stomach, careful not to expose my shirtsleeves. Obviously satisfied by my performance, Big Ma tucked the covers more closely around me and smoothed my hair gently. Then she stooped and started fishing for something under our bed.”
Cassie pretended to be sleeping so her grandmother wouldn’t go away and find out what she was doing. That made her an attentive person, since she was trying to find out what her parents were doing that they didn’t want her to know. She had been “sleeping” while this happened, so I brought a quilt for my item.
Evidence 4: This flashlight shows that Cassie was attentive. The author used action again to show the trait.
“I started to climb back up the porch but froze as a caravan of headlights appeared suddenly in the east, coming fast along the rain-soaked road like cat eyes in the night. Jason whined loudly, growing skittish as the lights approached, and when they slowed and braked before the house he slunk beneath the porch. I wanted to follow, but I couldn’t. My legs wouldn’t move.
The lead car swung into the muddy driveway and a shadowy figure outlined by the headlights of the car behind him stepped out. The man walked slowly up the drive.”
This was the thing that Cassie’s parents had tried to keep her from seeing, but Cassie still went to look when she heard her dog whining, because it meant there was something wrong. This made her very attentive. The flashlight looks like the headlights, so that’s why I chose a flashlight for my item.

A second strong trait in Cassie is that she is very bold.
Evidence 1: This shopping list shows that Cassie was bold. The author used dialogue to show this trait.
“The girl gazed at me strangely, but Mr. Barnett did not look up. I assumed that he had not heard me. I was near the end of the counter so I merely went to the other side of it and tugged on his shirtsleeve to get his attention.
He recoiled as if I had struck him.
“Y-you was helping us,” I said, backing to the front of the counter again.
“Well, you just get your little black self back over there and wait some more,” he said in a low, tight, voice.
I was hot. I had been as nice as I could to him and here he was talking like this. “We been waiting on you for nearly an hour,” I hissed, “while you go ‘round waiting on everybody else. And it ain’t fair. You got no right-“
“Whose little nigger is this!” bellowed Mr. Barnett.
This evidence from the book shows that Cassie is a bold person. When the owner of the store, Mr. Barnett, waits on everyone else in line although it is T.J.’s turn, she tried to remind him that he had been helping them, though she fails and was driven out by a furious Mr. Barnett. But it still was very bold of her to speak up like that to a grown white man while she was only a young 9-year old black in the early 1900’s. She was shopping with T.J. and Stacey at the time, so I chose a shopping list for my item.
Evidence 2: These shoes prove that the main character, Cassie, was bold. The author used dialogue to show this trait.
“I did not feel like messing with Lillian Jean. I had other things on my mind. “Okay,” I said, starting past. “I’m sorry.”
Lillian Jean sidestepped in front of me. “That ain’t enough. Get down in the road.”
I looked up at her. “You crazy?”
“You can’t watch where you going, get down in the road. Maybe that way you won’t be bumping into decent white folks with your nasty self.”
This second insult of the day was almost more than I could bear. Only the thought of Big Ma up in Mr. Jamison’s office saved Lillian Jean’s lip. “I ain’t nasty,” I said, properly holding my temper in check, “and if you’re afraid of getting bumped, get down there yourself.”
This piece of evidence from the book shows that Cassie is bold. Instead of just surrendering and stepping down onto the road, Cassie stayed, believing she shouldn’t let herself be bossed around, although it was obvious this would infuriate Lillian Jean. This made Cassie a bold person. She had been walking down the street, so I chose a pair of shoes for my item.
Evidence 3: This speech bubble shows that Cassie is bold. The author used dialogue to show this trait.
“Not ‘fore she ‘pologizes to my gal, y’all ain’t,” said Mr. Simms.
Big Ma gazed down at me, fear in her eyes, then back at the growing crowd. “She just’ a child-“
“Tell her, Aunty-“
Big Ma looked at me, her voice cracking as she spoke. “Go on child…apologize.”
“But, Big Ma-“
Her voice hardened. “Do like I say.”
I swallowed hard.
“Go on!”
“I’m sorry,” I mumbled.
“I’m sorry, Miz Lillian Jean,” demanded Mr. Simms.
“Big Ma!” I balked.
“Say it, child.”
A painful tear slid down my cheek and my lips trembled. “I’m sorry…M-Miz …Lillian Jean.”
The evidence from the book proves that Cassie is bold. She didn’t believe in apologizing twice including a “Miss” just for accidentally bumping into Lillian Jean. That was very bold of her to do, although it mingled with a little bit of disobedience. She was basically saying “No, I don’t want to!”, so I chose a speech bubble for my item.
Evidence 4: This jar of water shows that Cassie is bold. The author used action to show this trait.
“When Stacey’s and my holes merged into one big hole with Little Man’s and Christopher-John’s, Stacey and I threw down our shovels and grabbed the extra buckets. Then the four of us ran back and forth to the gullies, hastily filling the buckets with murky water and dumping it into the hole.
Now understanding Stacey’s plan, we worked wordlessly until the water lay at the same level as the road. Then Stacey waded into the gully water and pulled himself up onto the forest bank. Finding three rocks, he stacked them to identify the spot.”
The evidence from ‘Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry’ shows that Cassie is bold. A bus passes by everyday as the Logans went to school and the bus driver would amuse his passengers by splattering them with mud, so they decided to get back. They dug a large hole and disguised it as a large puddle, so the bus would fall in. Cassie was willing to risk being found out and getting into big trouble just for getting revenge. Because they made the hole into an innocent puddle, that’s why I brought a jar of water for my item.
I liked ‘Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry’ because it gives a lot of information about how blacks were treated soon after slavery ended. It also is a loving story and proves the power of family and friends.

Saturday, March 29, 2008

Haiku Collection

On a lily pad
In a tender shade of pink
A flower opens.

Beautiful treasures
Lie within the branches of
Blooming cherry trees.

Pale, soft moonbeams
Fall on a great willow tree
Changing it to white.

A solitary
Red rose sits on the meadow
But never wilting

~by Hannah

* A haiku is a three-lined poem with the first and last line having 5 syllables and the second having 7.

Friday, August 24, 2007

Philosophy

Me: 'Lila can get embarrassed when we watch her use the litter box, even though she's a cat.'
Mommy: 'How do you know she is?'

Now that's a good example of philosophy!

Saturday, August 11, 2007

Tomatoes

Under the tomato plants that were growing until they blocked the sunlight from the tomatoes that dwelt in the depths (they were all spread on the ground, not upright), growing until they were as bushy as a beard, growing until they finally blocked our garden path, underneath all the crawling leaves that were desperately trying to reach across to a new destination, were small, red, ripe, healthy little tomatoes.
So we scampered out eagerly after dinner one night and gathered only the best ones for dessert instead of cake.
Our plant was like a rain forest; it was very dark at the bottom, little rays of light peeked through at the 'medium' layer, and the top grew the largest.
The biggest were sugar-sweet, much better than the ones at Costco, and it was one of my most favorite desserts at all times.

-Hannah

Friday, August 3, 2007

Something's Funny

We were outside, waiting for Mommy to arrive...

Melody: Hannah, you like my pink and green dress?
Me: Yes

A few minutes later...

Melody: Mommy, you like my dress?
Mommy: This isn't a dress. This is a shirt and you're not wearing pants!

-by Hannah

Sunday, July 29, 2007

A Journal Entry

Here is a sentence from an entry in my journal:

'Who said there was a segregation between boys and girls in bathroom matters?'

-by Hannah

Monday, July 16, 2007

Nerds

It was my classmates birthday. He brought nerds (tiny bits of sour, lump-shaped candy) as a treat.
Then, after school was out, Riddhi played a joke on me:

Riddhi: "Have you ever seen nerds? Say no."

Absent-minded, I thought she meant a movie, novel, or whatever called 'Nerds Say No.'

Me: "No."

Riddhi: "Then you're a nerd!"

I looked at her blankly. The truth of what she really was saying hit me with a whoosh, a heap of snow sliding off a roof. I also didn't like that joke at all (calling someone 'a nerd' meant that person was dumb) and I showed it in my look, but she just laughed until she nearly split her sides.

-by Hannah

Saturday, July 14, 2007

The Inchworm

It was morning. Mom was digging through the soil to pull out crabgrass and I was inspecting the flowers. Dad came out too. Suddenly, my mom screamed and dad gave an excited shout. "Come here! Quick!" my mom called.

"Slug." I thought as I hurried over. My mom pointed to a thing. My eyes were bigger than dinner plates as I stared at it. There, right in front of me, was a little worm-like creature that shone jade green. It had little spots that sparkled like emeralds. And it had the most peculiar way of getting around.

First, it stretched it's whole body out. Then, it would move it's rear forward until it's back made a big loop. And it would stretch itself again, make the loop, stretch, loop, stretch, loop.... That way, it moved really fast. Sometimes, the little creature would pause and place it's whole skinny body up vertically (on a flat surface). I noticed that it had 2 'claws' at the other end of it so it could hold on to things and grab on thin blades of grass to walk on.

"Is that an inchworm?" my mom said. I moved my pointer finger and my thumb roughly an inch apart and tried to measure the 'inchworm' when it stretched. Sure enough, it was pretty much an inch. "I never thought inchworms existed," I said. "Of course," said mom. "They definitely do." My sister thought the inchworm was measuring.

If I ever could have a pet inchworm, I would train it to measure things whenever and whatever I want. That way, most of my homework would be done in a flash.

Here is the video we shot:


-by Hannah

Tuesday, July 3, 2007

A Dead Bird

This morning, mom found a dead bird by the side of the door that leads to our backyard. She threw it in the large steel garbage can we keep outside so our kitchen won't be perfumed by the stink. I thought it was a dead rat. When I went outside to dump garbage, I saw the bird, it's head half naked. I hurried back inside before I thought I was going to vomit.
"I think Lila killed it," mom explained, "because she was plucking off the feathers when I found her." By the base of the stinky can, there were a few downy feathers that were orange and brown.
"Poor bird," I sighed. We looked at Lila. "I'm not going to let her in; for now," said mom. "The bird might have been sick and the germs could still be lingering over her."
"How about a bath?" I suggested.
"No. Cats don't like baths."

I consulted my dad with a question after telling him about Lila and the bird. "If Lila really did kill that robin," I said, "How would she have caught it? Birds are smarter than flies and they're much faster. If Lila has a hard time catching a tiny flying insect, then she has got to have a strategy.
"Maybe the bird was resting in one of our trees at night," said dad. "Lila can climb all 3 of our trees and has a very high jump, so she might have plunged on that bird...and killed it."
"Pounced," I corrected him.

I went back downstairs, pondering over how to save the birds from Lila's jaws. "The good thing is that if she got lost, she can still survive," mom remarked. We put Lila's food outside so she won't go hungry for little creatures. But I don't know if it'll work.....

-by Hannah

Monday, July 2, 2007

Summer Homework for Melody.

Mom bought a preschool workbook. Melody became very involved in it before you can even say "Homework."

To teach Melody how to write her name better (like switching the way the 'd' was faced so it wasn't a 'b'), Mom wrote Melody's name several times in dotted lines so that she could trace it. When it was done, it looked something like this:
M M M M
e e e e
l l l l
o o o o
d d d d
y y y y

so she could practice each letter a good number of times. Then I did it with my own name:
HHHH
aaaa
nnnn
nnnn
aaaa
hhhh

She was a good 'student', that is, if I were a teacher. I put stars and tiny pictures with short compliments like 'Good job!" and "Wow!" to go with them. Even right now at this moment she is practicing numbers, colors, and words with mom. Maybe she'll enjoy homework up to high school.

-by Hannah

Sunday, July 1, 2007

Be Yourself

It is good to be yourself, not someone else. Even if they have a special talent, ability, or something that you don't have, just remember: YOU are also special in a way.

For instance, at my class, I sometimes get jealous of other people.

Luke can play the recorder. Julia draws good. Kyle, Anthony, and Drew play football. Ali's rich. Riddhi got held back and in turn became very popular.

But my ways of drawing captures Julia. I play the piano and Luke gets envious. And I stand out in the class in a way, too.

I am not THAT smart, but I know more than other people. They want to copy my work (which I find annoying!) and sit next to me.

I like this in one way and I don't in another. If we need partners, I have a hard time choosing. But everyone likes me.

Anyway, if I were Ali, I would have a mother who always gives me what you want, a cute brother, and luxuries, but I would lack intelligence and flexibility. If I were Julia, my drawings would look good, but not much detail. If I were Luke, I wouldn't get to play songs that soothe and surprise people.

Also, when I read various novels, I would wish I was a child that had a dog nurse (from Peter Pan), a grandmother that collected rare dolls from around the world (from Nancy Drew: The Clue in the Old Album), breakfast in an orchid with the loveliest fruit ever tasted (from The Lost Princess of Oz), and cute ponies (from Pony Pals:I Want a Pony). But later, I would think that it's better to be me.

Mrs. Price, the school counselor, read a book that everyone is special and different in some way. Just how boring if everyone was the same! Same color, same race, same name, same language, same clothes, everything. The world would be simple and boring! So it's good to be different.....and yourself.

-by Hannah

Wednesday, June 27, 2007

Just an Ordinary Morning

It was just another ordinary morning
You couldn't expect a thing.
Nothing was unusual or out of place
But then my alarm clock started to
Sing!

Father came in and opened the door
My, he had shrunk to my hip!
He had grown a ten-foot long beard,
And his nose was just a snip!

Mother came behind him,
Her hair was longer than
Rapunzel's!
It had turned purple and a million
Feet long,
It nearly reached a billion!

My room started shaking,
And everything was upside-down!
I was walking on the ceiling,
My pictures started to frown!

I was so surprised,
My sister was eleven!
My cat, usually nice and sweet,
Was suddenly very stubborn!

Then, there was a deafning BANG!
And everything was all right!
My sister was three again,
Dad regained his normal height.

But then my alarm clock started to sing.........

-by Hannah