...sharing thoughtful, mentor text-inspired lessons your students will love!
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At right, you see the student-winning digital photograph from our 2009 contest. It was taken by middle school student Trae Jones.
If you use this photo in class as a writing prompt, and then have a student like what they're writing so much that they take their writing through the writing process, we want to see their published stories posted here!
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Never Ending Road, 5th Grade
Runaway, 5th Grade
The Past Road, 5th Grade
Everlasting Road, 5th
O'Little Never-ending Road, 5th
The Never Ending Road, 5th
The Road of Life, 5th
The Winding Road Ahead of Me
By Lily, 8th Grade, August, 2011
The Winding Road Ahead of Me
The road is straight for now
But I view the winds and curves ahead
I keep on walking not worried about it just yet
Sometimes I don't know what's coming
I can't prepare until the giant hill is right in front of me
I traipse up it straining with every step
I cry out “Help!!”
But no one is around
Then I fall and tumble down the hill
I hear a far off voice say “Try again,” so I do
This time it's easier
I some how feel a hand helping me up to the top
I get there and in the distance I see a town
A lovely town I long to get to
But still there ahead of me is
……a winding road
Nick, Grade 8
Geez, it seems like I have been walking on our old, country road forever. It leads to our farm, where Papa always taught me how to work hard and to do my schoolwork. He will be so disappointed. This is the exact road I walked on to get to school. I sure loved school and everyone knew it. I was always the top of my class, and was determined to be the first member of my family to go to college.
Oh boy. What will Mama and Papa think? They wanted me to go to college for so long, how will I tell them I dropped out to be an author? Mama will support me for sure, but I am worrying about Papa’s reaction.
My dream is to write a novel about work on the farm. It is very strenuous work, but it pays off knowing that you can grow and raise everything you need. I understand why Papa always looked down upon the people that have to buy everything without knowing how to make it. When I daydreamed about writing, Papa would always catch me, and say “Get back to work boy!”
I walk on this narrow road that my father built himself, and I can only hope that my family will understand my decision. As I come closer to our farm, I can hear the gentle clanking of cow bells. It brought a sudden moment of relaxation amidst all of the anxiety. I thought about myself when I was young, and getting the eggs out of the hen’s nest. I would have never imagined college or getting a job. I didn’t have any worries in my life at that time.
Finally I’m standing before our small cottage. Through the rickety screen door, I could hear Mama cleaning dishes. And then I walk in. . . .