Writings by Sarah As I see it..

My name is Teresa Hunter, and I was almost 13 years old when it happened. I was working with Dad in the basement when he switched on the TV to channel 5. I sighed silently and continued shaping my jar, concentrating on every move I made. Wide at the bottom, narrow and long at the neck, with an open mouth like the end of a trumpet... This is an excerpt from chapter 1 of Teresa’s Pottery by Sarah Gichuhi. She is 11 years old and one of my favorite authors. Fellow Toastmasters, Madam Toastmaster, my name is Sarah Gichuhi, and in addition to writing a book, some of the ways I spend my time include writing poetry and short stories, and listening to music. I don’t like non-Christian music, and I do not know any songs that aren’t Christian. Music is a big part of my life, and if I hear a song, I won’t be able to forget it, ever. Some of my favorite artists are TobyMac, Mandisa, Sidewalk Prophets… the list goes on and on. I listen to WCIC, and I love my radio. My family is composed of five ingredients; a homeschooling mother, a State Farm dad, two little sisters, Allyna, who is 7, Charlene, age 4, and me. We are a normal family that has many activities. Currently, I am taking swimming, YAK, 4-H, sewing, piano, Awana, piano theory, Bible study, and of course, Toastmasters. I collect Highlights magazines and stuffed animals, and yes, I still sleep with my teddy bear. I have a blog that is connected to my dad’s website, and I often put my stories on it. If you want to read it, my blog’s address is www.youngluke.com/sarah. I must warn you though; some of the stories have been there forever. I wrote stories when I was younger, and some of them are very silly. If you forgot the address of the blog, just come up to me anytime. My mom says that I’m popular, but I just like people. I’m really looking forward to meeting you and getting to know you more. Thank you.

Excitement is

a feeling of nervousness

walking down the stairs

taking a seat

before a recital

seeing the grand piano

talking to the other performers

Hushed voices

as the recital starts.

Beginning Mozarts

are applauded by family.

Nervousness is

a feeling of excitement

pancakes in your stomach

playing your piece

making two inaudible mistakes

swollen with pride

taking a bow.

Amazed feels like

listening to beautiful pieces

awed by talented skill.

Afterwards is

gratefulness to Teacher

taking a class picture

him in the middle

couldn't stop smiling.

Pedro ran up to Angelo with news that Santa Anna was coming. William Travis and his 150 men hid behind the Alamo's walls, while Santa Anna and his army of 2,500 men chased them. Santa Anna became president of Mexico after being a dictator, and when Lieutenant William Travis started a rebellion against him, Santa Anna was angry. This was the beginning of a siege that started on February 23, 1836. The first day of the siege, men tried to fight their way out. By the end of the day, they gave up. They were outnumbered, and they knew it. The enemy knew it too. The men inside the fort had nothing to eat except a small supply of chocolate. One time, during the night, one of the men got scared and ate it all. As a result, the others wouldn't speak to him for two days. On the fifth day, everyone huddled around a small fire that had a small kettle with "coffee" made from dandelions plucked from the ground and hot water. They never warmed it up too much for fear it might evaporate. The men were arguing over whose turn it was to eat, and there was much shouting. "Billy, why can't you go buys us some food," someone shouted. "I can't," Said Billy, quivering with fear until Angelo rose from the circle and said,

"I have come to a conclusion." No one spoke. "Pedro will gather what little money we have, and go buy us some food."

"Why me?"

"No one would dare to hurt a small child."

"I will go," said Pedro. "Good," said Angelo. "Do you have any peasant clothes? "Pedro blushed, looked down at his ragged clothes, and nodded. It was Angelo's turn to blush. Billy gave Pedro and old cap of his, to "Complete the look and cover your eyes," Billy had said. Pedro bid them all good-bye, and hurried into the night.

When he got to the wall, a gruff voice stopped him. "What are you doing boy?" Pedro's heart stopped. "I-I was going to buy food." He figured it would be best to tell the truth, since he would be caught anyway. "Where are you?" asked Pedro. A man in his late twenties stepped into the moonlight. "Who sent you, boy? "Angelo told me to-" "Angelo? You know a man named Angelo? "Yes, I know him." "Is he still alive?" Yes, and he has guided me like a father. He had a son named Diego, but he is dead. Did you know Diego? " "I am he." Pedro and Diego felt like they had known each other for a long time after talking for ten minutes. When Diego let Pedro go buy food, he called after him,

"Send my love to my father Angelo!"

Pedro had to sleep out in the open that night because stores weren't open yet. At the break of dawn, just as the storekeeper unlocked the door, Pedro followed in right behind him.

"How much money would I need in order to buy seven days' worth of food for thirty-five men?" he asked. "The storekeeper stared at him. Pedro felt his face growing warm. "I need to know, sir." The store keeper figured the total and said,

"Less than you have, son. I've heard about those men down in the Alamo. What they're going through is mighty brave. I'd do it myself. The food is free."

"Thank you, sir. You are very kind." Pedro took the food and started out the door.

"Now hold your horses, sonny. You didn't really think I'd give you a big sack of food and not give you some transportation?" The storekeeper chuckled. "It's not much, but it's the least I can do. I found this old bicycle in the road and took it home. It's all fixed up now, and it's made exactly to carry a big sack of free food." The storekeeper threw his head back and laughed heartily. Pedro smiled and pushed the bicycle out the door.

When he was safely backed inside the Alamo, everyone was glad to see him. Billy cried out with surprise when he saw more food than he had ever imagined. It was more than enough, so every day they had a feast. They joked and laughed together every time they sat down to eat. On the day before the siege was over, Pedro remembered Diego. Angelo was reunited with his son, and Pedro and Billy were officially adopted as Angelo's children. Now they had a home to miss when they went away.

Helumuth Hubener, a boy of seventeen lies on a wooden bed in a cold cell huddled and shivering. It's Tuesday. The executioner works on Tuesday.

The Boy Who Dared was written by Susan Campbell Baroletti and is a novel based on the true story of a Hitler Youth. The story takes place in 1942 in Germany during the time of Hitler's reign, when Helumuth was four years old. Then, he was a strong patriot. But now, he isn't so sure. Hitler has broken his promise more than once, and Helumuth feels he should do something about it. Other people are afraid to speak out for fear they might be whipped, which makes Helumuth even more determined to take a stand. He listens to an illegal radio and passes out pamphlets stating the truth about the war and Hitler's promises. The author was inspired to write the book after writing Hitler Youth: Growing up in Hitler's shadow.

This book is good to read if you like to read scary books. I'm not that type of person, but you may try it if you want.

Bloomington-Normal is a city with many sights and things to do. You can find the daily news in The Pantagraph, the city's most trusted newspaper.

As far as education goes, there are schools close to every neighborhood. There are two libraries, one in Bloomington and in Normal. In the summer reading program, you can read enough books to win multiple prizes, from coupons to stuffed animals. There are many activities and opportunities to learn different sports and trades like tennis, sewing, and so on.

And for the athletic one, there are many choices. There are a few gymnastic schools scattered around. There are two places you can skate, both on ice and on the ground. Four Seasons is a facility that offers classes for swimming, karate, and exercise classes for adults. It features two swimming pools, one with a depth of 3'6" to 8". The other swimming pool is for laps only and is 4" deep all the way through. It also has a gym with basketball and volleyball courts. Four Seasons is a great place for family fun.

Speaking of fun, there are a few movie theaters around. Wehremberg theater Keeps you up to date with the newest movies before anyone else. If you like baseball, then you'll love the Cornbelters, Bloomington-Normal's local baseball team.

Being bored is unlikely when you're in the twin cities.

Now I am running, away from the men who try to capture me. I run as hard as I can, my silver coat flying in the wind. I am safe now, but my family is in danger. They have been captured by the men who try to catch me. The men have sticks with them, and when they point it at you, fire comes out. I know this from our father, who had been hunting with a group of wolves when one of them had been shot. The horrid beast who shot him just laughed when the other hunters growled at them and made fun of them. My father always got angry when he told this story.

“How dare he insult the leader of the pack,” he growled and stormed out of the room. My mother told me to let him cool down for a while, when I tried to follow my father.

Back then I was a tiny cub, unable to understand why things happen. But now, I am the son of the leader, the heir to the throne. One day I will lead the pack, so my father, as he is aging, teaches me the way of life.

The gray wolf is one of the most endangered animals in north America. They are mostly known for their howl, which pierces the night and startles everyone who is sleeping peacefully in their beds. Gray wolves are endangered due to uncontrollable hunting, and their skins are used for coats and boots, among many others.

The gray wolf 's anatomy and looks are similar to those of the most common house pet; a dog. It is the largest in the canine family and weighs about 80 pounds as an adult. It is 5 to 6 ½ feet in length, and its life span is about 13 years. It is an excellent hunter, due to its sharp nose and ears. It normally depends on these two senses for survival. They have a gray fur coat, which corresponds to their name. They have long legs, which help them hunt quickly, and a narrow chest.

The gray wolf's prey is large, but they live in packs, so they have many mouths to feed. Their prey consists of deer, moose, caribou, rabbit, and occasionally rodents. When they are alone they hunt smaller animals, such as as hare or beavers. In packs, wolves can travel up to 30 miles a day searching for food to eat. Howling is another helpful ability of the gray wolf. Howling helps to keep the pack together, and to tell where there is fresh meat. It also can declare where your territory is.

Wolf packs consist of two parents, their four or five pups, and a few other single adults. The pups drink milk from their mother for seven months, and then begin to hunt with the adults. They stay with the pack for up to three years, and then leave to form their own.

The gray wolf is largely endangered. There used to be over two million gray wolves in 57 different countries, but now there are only about two hundred thousand left. So save the gray wolf and help it get its home back!

The men with fire sticks have come back for me, but I do not show my fear. I growl at them, keeping my distance. One of them puts meat on the ground in front of me. I hesitate to eat it, but my stomach convinces me to eat. I follow the trail of the deer meat to a cave. I stop at the doorway afraid to go in. but then I hear my father's voice. “Come in,” he says. “there is nothing to be afraid of. Your mother is here. Your five brothers and sisters are here. Join us. These men are trying to help you, the new leader of the pack.”

Have you ever been stuck in the wilderness for more than 49 days, alone and forgotten at the age of 13? This is just how Brian Robenson feels as he builds up his courage and knocks down self pity in Hatchet by Gary Paulsen.

Brian's parents are divorced, and Brian must carry the heavy burden in a single- engine plane across the land to visit his father in Canada. Suddenly, the plane swerves of course, and Brian finds himself crashing into an L- shaped lake with no one to ensure a safe landing. Through his early mistakes, he learns to survive in the harsh woods. But then he makes one big mistake- one that will cost him his life. Will he survive? Read the book to find out.

First of all, I like this book mainly because of the setting. It's in the woods, which to me, makes the story more adventurous. Another good point is the characters. They seem like real people and have different and changing personalities. Lastly, I like the ending because it left me feeling satisfied and it builds stronger character.

In conclusion, I would recommend this book to anyone who loves adventure.

Today when we were going on our daily walk across the bridge, a little girl fell into the river. But even though she was a good swimmer, the current was too strong for her. Immediately, I knew what to do. I jumped in and tried to rescue her, but only succeeded in grabbing her before the hostile river hurled us downstream. one by one, people started to jump in and help. But that current was just too strong. We all got carried far downstream to a small stranded boat. Some of the weak ones jumped in, and the rest of us, with the small ones paddling, pushed and heaved the boat to shore. Then we heard shout from above us . The people that hadn't jumped were now whooping and cheering us on! Our group whooped back. Pretty soon, the river was rippling and the riverbanks ringing. We finally got back, and our supporters whooped and cheered as we walked our soggy selves home.

-Sarah, the Superstar

Chapter 1

It’s 1920 and the decade is off to a good start. Father is coming home, but we still don’t know where my brother Sam is. Maybe he’s a prisoner in Germany. Or he could be a captive in Austria – Hungary. Hmmm…

“Diana, it’s almost time for the ticker tape parade. Do you have your very best dress on? We want to make sure that Father recognizes us, don’t we?” my mother is very excited at meeting Father again. We all are looking forward to when we will see his loving face, and smell a fresh Irish day in spring, filled with books that are worn from being read so many times. We are all looking forward to seeing Father, the man we love. The soldiers are starting to parade down the street. We clap to the time of the music and look eagerly through the parade to see if we can spot Father. I nearly race to the edge of the crowd to get a better view, but Mother holds on tight to my hand and carries Baby Anne in the other. I so much wanted to see Father, marching proudly towards us in his uniform. But when he finally did come, he didn’t look like the father I used to love. Instead, all I saw was a man, still with a sparkling uniform, but a sleeve that was cut off. But I didn’t notice this at first. Everyone around me was crying, and I cried,

“Daddy, pick me up!” But he shook his head playfully, causing his messy hair to hurl blobs of mud at my older sister Marianne’s dress.

“Father, how could you do this to me? I spent hours trying to get it straight,” she shrieked. We all laughed at her wit. Then Father turned to watch the rest of the parade, and I saw why he couldn’t pick me up. His tattered uniform had been cut in the sleeve and suddenly, I knew. Father had lost his arm in the war.

……………………………………………………..……………………………•…………………………………………………………………………..

That night, I was thinking about Father’s arm. Why, oh why did this have to happen? Mother came in at that moment, and seeing my troubled face, she came and sat by my bed.

“War changes people, honey,” she soothed. “But why?” I asked.

“Hush now. Your father is tired and needs a rest. You don’t want to wake him up, do you?” I shook my head.

“Good. Now go to sleep. If he gets enough rest he’ll be picking you up in no time.” She smiled and left the room, closing the door behind her. I lay on my bed in deep thought, still thinking about the future to come. I pictured myself a young lady with a long elegant dress and jewels around my neck. I smiled at the thought and drifted into a deep slumber.

Chapter 2

The next day, Father was reading the daily newspaper. He had to set it on the table because of his arm. But he was reading just as usual and telling us whatever interesting things he discovered. Soon everyone was howling with laughter at the story Father was telling us.

“… So the greedy boy glanced at a pitcher filled to the rim with walnuts and hurried over to get some. He snatched as many as he could grasp, then struggled to pull out his hand. However, his hand was as huge as a balloon and he could not yank out his hand. He was so stubborn he did not let go of any of his walnuts in order to retrieve his hand. As he burst into a sob, an old man, who was highly respected for his generous actions viewed him crying and talked to him gently.

‘If you are pleased with fewer nuts, I am greatly sure that you will get your hand out, foolish lad,’ and went on his way, whistling a happy tune, leaving the poor boy to his unfortunate fate.

But after all the stories and jokes and riddles, Father read something that was way more important.

“Well, women now have suffrage.”

“That’s the right to vote. Bet you didn’t know that,” My brother Richard bragged.

“Be quiet, Mister Smarty pants, I’m trying to listen,” I responded.

Father looked at us sternly, and we quieted at once. “Listen to this, and pay attention,” he said. “And,” he paused, making the room so tense that even Baby Anne stopped crying.

“The Eighteenth amendment says that there has been a ban on alcohol.”

A ban on alcohol. Okay, so that’s a Prohibition or something like that. Oh, great! My spelling is getting better! I’ll just have to tell Mrs. Whittaker that I don’t have to take the extra spelling test. Anyway, the rest of the day passed as usual.

The next morning, Mother took Richard and me to the market to buy groceries. I stopped by the radio that was playing the music, as usual, and listened to the music that was playing. But this time, it wasn’t playing the usual music I heard. This music was faster and had a different rhythm to it. I went across to where Mother and Richard were still shopping for broccoli, intending to admire the ladies’ long dresses that trailed along the floor along the way. I expected to hear their long skirts swishing on the floor, but surprisingly, I couldn’t. I looked around, and what I saw surprised me. Women were supposed to have dresses and skirts that were no higher than their ankles. Ladies were strictly forbidden to show their legs, until now. I saw legs everywhere! Their skirts were above their ankles, and only some of the older respected ladies had long skirts. I went a little further and decided to look at the hairstyles instead. The younger ladies had hair that was called bobbed, and only respected ladies kept their hair nice and long. I was enraged! This town was changing so much! First Father’s arm, then something called jazz, then bobbed hair and short skirts__ I couldn’t take it anymore. What was this horrible war doing to our peaceful little town? I headed on my way towards Mother and Richard.

On Wednesday, I talked to Mrs. Whittaker.

“.. So now I don’t have to take the extra spelling test!” I squealed. Her face lit up as I told her of my discovery in the market and how I remembered a word.

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” she asked playfully. “I already printed them out! And just when my printer runs out of ink! My, my, what should I do with you?”

“You could print it backwards,” I teased her. She shook her head at me and laughed at my remark.

A Christian newspaper came the next day. It was Marianne’s turn to read to us, so as we ate breakfast she read;

“Famous baseball player Billy Sunday and evangelist Bob Jones are now preachers, caring for ‘the lost generation’,” and at this Marianne snorted and said, “Why are they lost? I mean, who is lost?” And Mother answered her,

“Oh, many, many people are lost in the same way. They don’t know Christ. Well, they might know about Him, but they just haven’t accepted Him into their lives. And we should all try to stop that from happening. Now, how can we help? I want you all to think of something, then we will all practice sharing the Good News.”

“We could make and color tracts and go give them out in the park,” Richard suggested, and everyone went with the idea. We colored our tracts, two for each person, and went out the door of our home to the streets that led to the park, our final destination. We split up, looking for people to witness to. Richard found an old lady struggling with grocery bags, and while he helped her, he told her about the God who is always there to lift your burdens off your back. Marianne spotted a child whose kite had stuck in a tree, and as she got it down for the little boy, she told him about the God who came down from heaven to die to save you from death forever. And Mother and Father helped an old man whose car had gotten stuck in mud. I looked around for someone to help, and after walking a little way off, I saw a girl about my age who was struggling to put on some makeup. I walked over to her and asked,

“Do you need some help with that?”

“Yes please.” She nodded her head enthusiastically. “Oh and my name’s Fiona,” she added.

“I’m Diana, but you know, there is a God that doesn’t care how you look on the outside, and even though not even one of us is perfect, God helps us wash ourselves on the inside, so that it’s pure.” Fiona stared at me and said,

“I just had a shower this morning.” I shook my head and said,

“On the inside, Fiona. God cares about what you look like in your spiritual walk.”

“What’s that?” I was beginning to run out of answers, so I answered her,

“How about you just come to church with us this Sunday, okay? Here’s the address…”

Fiona came to church Sunday, and listened intently as the pastor talked of salvation. In response to the invitation to receive Christ as her personal Savior, she slipped away to the other side of the room where the pastor was waiting, talked with him for a few minutes, bowed her head and prayed, and came back to us with a happy face.

“Why are you so happy?” I asked.

And she sang the song that the Sunday school class had sung,

“I’ve got the joy, joy joy, joy, down in my heart.”

And we sang along with her on our way home,

“Down in my heart to stay!”