During My Junior Year In High School, mr. Reynolds, my English Teacher, handed Each Student A List Of Thoughts Or Statements Written By Other Students, then Gave Us A Creative Writing Assignment Based On One Of Those Thoughts.
Go up when junior high school, english teacherReynolds thisesThe gentleman sent a piece of scrip to every classmate. All sorts of opinion that listed and other classmate writes on scrip and allegation. Next, he wants us to write the composition of a creativity accordingly.
At 17, I Was Beginning To Wonder About Many Things, so I Chose The Statement, "I Wonder Why Things Are The Way They Are? "That Night, I Wrote Down In The Form Of A Story All The Questions That Puzzled Me About Life. I Realized That Many Of Them Were Hard To Answer, and Perhaps Others Could Not Be Answered At All.
I 17 years old special to a lot of things feel puzzled. Did so I choose " am I not clear why is the thing now this appearance? "As the title. That day in the evening, I wrote down me to be opposite with the form of the storyThe lifeall bewilderment. I know a lot of problems reply very hard, probably some of problem cannot find the solution at all.
When I Turned In My Paper, I Was Afraid That I Might Fail The Assignment Because I Had Not Answered The Question, "I Wonder Why Things Are The Way They Are? "I Had No Answers. I Had Only Written Questions.
After giving in a composition, I fear exercise cannot pass to close very much. Because I do not have answer " at all,I do not understand why the thing is now this appearance " this problem, I search to be not worn the answer, wrote down a problem only.
The Next Day Mr. Reynolds Called Me To The Front Of The Class And Asked Me To Read My Story For The Other Students. He Handed Me My Paper And Sat Down In The Back Of The Room. The Class Became Quiet As I Began To Read My Story:
The following day, gentleman of Reynolds at present lets me read aloud my composition to whole class classmate to listen to dais. He hands me my article, at the back of sit to the classroom. The classroom is very quiet. I begin to recite the story that I write.
Mommie, daddy. . .Why?
" mom, father... why? "
Mommie, why Are The Roses Red?
Mom, why is the rose red?
Mommie, why Is The Grass Green And The Sky Blue?
Mom, why grass is blueness, is the day blue?
Why Does A Spider Have A Web And Not A House?
Why does the spider knit a net not to build a house?
Daddy, why Can't I Play In Your Toolbox?
Father, why cannot I be in your kit amuse oneself?
Teacher, why Do I Have To Read?
Teacher, why must I read?
Mother, why Can't I Wear Lipstick To The Dance?
Mom, why cannot I wipe able to read aloud fluently red play ball?
Daddy, why Can't I Stay Out Until 12:00? The Other Kids Are.
Previous12 Next