Part Two of Creative Writing in Seventh Grade: sample work

Childhood Memory

Thanksgiving Dinner

By Avery Zody

I smelt the fresh scent of turkey and dinner being served. The lighting in the room was tinted with a golden yellow glow from the cheap two dollar candles. I heard the faint sounds of people entering the house. As I ran back to the table, excited for dinner, my parents brought in the turkey and stuffing. The table filled with people and food.

Childhood Memory

Back In The Day

By Brady

As I get in my great grandpa's side by side, we drive through his fields. When we look back we see bulls running after us like a pack of wolves. When we get to his bulldozer, he starts the engine and I can feel the ground vibrating. He starts to push down trees. As I hear them falling, like big thunderclaps, it shakes the ground and I'm amazed. 

Pet Sketch

Bode

by Brent Campbell

Bode slept peacefully until he hears a sudden thump. He lifts his head, as a leathery ball nails him in the neck. His doggy head hurts, but he ignores it. “He makes a deep guttural sound and then goes back to sleep”. The person drops the ball on him (literally). He gets up to move his legs and licks his father with his slimy, stinky, rough, strip of flesh on his father’s foot. After that, he wishes to go for a walk so Bode peers into his brother’s office (also Bode’s bedroom), sees him doing his homework to screaming noises, (music) and he backs out to go and take a long sleep-deprived nap. He is annoyed that he can't be taken for a good long walk. He thinks, “I should sink my bone-white teeth into my brother's thigh right now”. It would be so nice to get my legs stretched but he is too selfish to just let me go for a walk.  I would love to know why these stupid humans won’t just walk with a leash in their hands. I'm not that bad. 

Childhood Memory

Runaway Bunny

by Cami Noble 

Running, running, running, must catch her. Her long ears were flopping as she darted around the chicken coop, “Must catch Buttons”, I mumbled then paused, gasping for breath. Darting, she ran off into the distance, her white tail bobbing away forever, never to be seen again.

Cinquain Poem

By Charlie Wardle

Wolves

Dusky, menacing

Watching, lurking, lunging

Gleaming white teeth unsheathe

Hunters

Northern lights

By Clarity Partridge

My eyes opened I looked at the clock; it was 5 o’clock. I hopped out of my bed. My dad had all our home school stuff ready for the morning. He looked at me and smiled. “Sweetie, why are you up so early?” I ran to him and threw my arms around him. He laughed and his warm arms comforted me. His familiar scent made me smile. My excitement bubbled up in anticipation for our morning. I wormed my way out of his warm embrace and ran to get my swimsuit on.  We ran across the icy snowy deck, our bare feet pattering and moving as fast as we could so our feet did not become cemented to the icy trap.  We climbed in the hot and steamy water, our feet tingling.  I  dunked my head under the water, my hair instantly turning into icy spikes. I touched the spikes and they crunched under my fingers, icy crystals raining down from my hair.  When I looked up at the star patterned sky, I noticed there was a wave of green frog. It twisted and faded at the bottom of the sky coming back even brighter. My dad looked at me and said, “Oh, it's Northern Lights.”  We stared at the magical light. 

Fairy Tale

By Cruz Portellas 

One day an old man strolled down a cobblestone street. He peered into the small windows of the passing houses wondering what it must feel like to have food, to have meals like that and not be thirsty. All the passersby stared in disgust at his begging. No one, not even his friends knew that he was once a rich nobleman known throughout the land. His only wish was to one day have food on the table every day and live like he once did. When he awoke one morning, he was approached by two guards. They were guards sent by the king to remove everyone living on the streets. So he packed up the few things he had and headed for the forest. After days of searching for a suitable place to live, he found a village. When he entered the town he recognized it from his father’s description of where he had grown up and died. He looked through the town with great interest. 

One of the men on the side of the street suddenly called out, “HEY! Everybody look! It is the king’s son.” 

Everyone who heard him came running to greet him. They told him that they knew the king had a son but they didn’t know where so they started searching for him. However, now he appeared by himself. The next day everyone gathered to watch the crowning of their new king for the rest of his days.

The End

Acrostic Poem

By Hana Ramsey

Amazing, talented people

Come together to form a cast

Together as a team,

On stage as a character

Recreating books and

Stories, bringing them to life.

Show Not Tell (The Party Was Fun)

THE PARTY

By H.C.Keating

The sun seemed dim and unfocused in the background. It beat down off-center like a blurry mirage. The glimmering water hardly portrayed its freezing temperature. My fingers were white, gripping Charlie’s cold, clammy hands like a lifeline. I felt no fear. In a way I was barely worried. All I felt was a dull numbness and detachment, like watching the distant film of our lives. It was sad, but not too emotional to have no real feelings. We turned and walked down to the two, small, plastic, blue kayaks. Thorns caught on our wet swimsuits and we started the wet, cold, semi miserable journey back.

 I spent the time whispering  encouragement, estimating the remaining miles, and giving pep talks. We had only two one-person kayaks, so I had to swim next to the boats in the frigid water the whole way, not wishing my friends to suffer. When we arrived at the Pack River Store, exhausted, teeth-chattering, and cold to the bone, Taylor’s mother offered us chicken strips, and we took them wordlessly. The chicken seemed better than I ever remembered chicken tasting. Suddenly, Charlie paused, shivering and chewing long enough to exclaim, “It tastes like fish.”

And then it dawned on me.

Acrostic Poem

By Jasper Caslund

Something almost too great to describe

Unusual in nature

Put to use for every description of every feeling

Everlasting joy and contentment

Revealing every complicated feeling

Ceasing never to impress

Always quenching the need for a word

Love, hate, and anger

It describes all feelings

Forever will I use it

Replying to all questions

Always answering

Giving advice through this complicated word

Inventing new things that this

Lovely word can mean

It is so complex of feeling

Such a word as

This can be the only word that 

Is usable for a

Context such as this feeling presents

Exceptional meaning

X-raying anyone's complex feelings into one

Particular word

I'm inclined to use it

Always and anyone who 

Loves it as much as

I will know that it

Does never stop to

Opening people's eyes with its

Complex meaning

It always 

Opens a new path in the 

Unusual human mind

Sometimes this is the only word to put our feelings and ideas into words.

Alternate Surprise Ending

Sherlock Holmes

By Madisen Downen

The next day Sherlock Holmes, Watson, and the king knocked on Irene Adler's door dressed as house inspectors. A servant answered, letting them in almost like she was expecting them. Holmes said, “We are not the only men here. I saw big leather boots by the door”.

The three men walked into the sitting room. Irene came in offering them to stay for breakfast, Holmes humbly accepted the invitation. The servants walked in with a fruity, filling meal. Holmes sniffed the air for poison but did not detect any. The king was staring at the woman's face with angry eyes. They ate the food but then the king requested to be excused to go to the bathroom. Irene excused him.

The king went down the hall to the bathroom glancing at the spot the painting was hidden. Sneaking over, he tried to open it but couldn't. Then he saw there was an almost invisible keyhole in the bottom left corner. Walking back to Holmes with uneasy eyes, he whispered in his ear, “We have a problem”.

The king told him the issue. Holmes scanned the lady and didn't see a key. He thought to himself. “It must be hidden.” At that moment, Irene offered them a tour of her home for it was quite large and beautiful, Holmes automatically answered. “Yes”.

Irene showed them the kitchen, all five bedrooms, and the other bathroom but left out a room that was in the furthest hallway. Watson noticed the same thing and sneaked away to look through the keyhole. Irene looked around and saw him. She said: “Why are you looking through the keyhole?” in a slightly angry voice.

I answered, “I wish to see the other side of this door.”

Irene gave me a suspicious look. The tour ended with Holmes falling to the ground in pain, screaming and squirming. Irene panicked calling her maids to help bring him to the sofa he had sat in just two days before. Irene called the doctor. He came thirty minutes later, checking his heartbeat and looking down his throat. Holmes did not enjoy this but it gave the king and Watson time to open the door and get the key.

Watson and the king ran up the stairs and burst down the door only to find the painting. The king squealed with excitement, I said “Well look at this, how lucky are we.” The king grabbed the painting, covered it with a cloth, and ran downstairs past the maids and into the streets. Holmes jumped up hitting the my head and making me briefly pass out. He ran all the way back to his apartment, the king took off the cloth only to find a handwritten message saying  “This is what happens when you take what's mine.” The three men gasped. Holmes looked closely at the message and saw a coffee stain and some squished crumbs on the corner.

Holmes deduced that while he was on the sofa, Irene had already known they were after the painting. She had written the note in the morning as the coffee on it was still wet. So the real painting was long gone, already on its way to the palace of the king because today was the betrothal. Holmes said, “This isn't over yet. We still don't know who else was in the house”.

Fairy Tale

By Taylor Kirsch 

I was staring out the window, just hoping for snow for Christmas Day. I waited three days, then I was thinking about why there was no snow. It was getting late so I crawled in my bed thinking about something I had never thought of before. 

    I got out of bed and went into my back yard. I got my hot air balloon out of the garage and started the fire. Soon the balloon filled up with hot air and I started going up. 

My plan was to go talk to the clouds to see what was going wrong. 

Finally I got up the clouds; they seemed sad. I asked them why they were so sad.

“We don't have any sun to evaporate the water,” the clouds said. 

I looked around and said, “There is no sun because all of you are blocking it.”

The cloud told all of the other clouds to move a little farther up in the sky. They had seen something they hadn't seen in a long time: the moon. The clouds said, Thank you,” to me.

The next morning the little boy thought, “The clouds can't talk. I don't have a hot air balloon.” But he looked outside and the trees were covered in snow, the roads were white, and snow was falling from the sky. He wondered if he could have made his wish come true in a dream.

Creative Writing in Seventh Grade

A Waldorf seventh grade has a block unique to Waldorf Schools, a writing workshop where the content is explicitly the moods of soul: wish, wonder and surprise. Why should moods of soul be a part of a child’s education and why especially in seventh grade? Seventh grade lies just past the halfway point of a child’s K-12 education. The seventh grader can both look back to the childhood they left behind and forward to where a new world is dawning. Society would prematurely pull the young adolescent into this emerging world and rush them into consumerism, sensuality and more. The Waldorf curriculum attempts to bring to this passage a balance between new awakenings and old connections to the spiritual world. In slowing down this transition, we are not wishing to keep the child imprisoned in childhood, but instead are tending to the innate qualities of childhood which become strength of soul and character for their entire adult life. We can keep their wonder alive and still meet the child’s need for understanding with a careful scientific study of the world. We can be scientific not only in chemistry but also in how we bring writing and poetry, adhering carefully to the well crafted form of a sonnet or five paragraph essay. We choose subjects that arouse anew the wonder of life and amaze us. Through many guided writing exercises the students learn to “paint pictures” with their words.

Week one began by practicing “showing” with our words instead of “telling.” For example, a simple phrase such as, “The day was hot” was given as an example of “telling.” The students were then asked to expand upon this using their senses - to bring the heat alive. Fundamental to wonder is our power of observation and the students were then asked to observe an animal (pet study) and a person they admired (character sketch). Through paying attention, we can reawaken to the world around us and enkindle wonder.

Building upon our practice with description, week two’s compositions were infused with the mood of a wish. The students wrote compositions describing personal wishes. The class then made a wish and each student expanded upon it personally. Lastly they wrote a fairy tale with the theme of a wish. Expressing a wish gives the children an opportunity to articulate ideals. Within our personal ideals is the possibility of these “seed” thoughts and feelings becoming manifest. Our will is developed by taking impulses and raising them to the level of wishes and finally, when we have the inner strength and discipline, making them come true.

Week three’s theme was surprise. A surprise takes us out of our self – perhaps we laugh and experience joy. Amazement takes this a step further and adds to surprise an element of awe. The element of awe brings us back to ourselves with the possibility of being changed. Our minds have been opened and our opinions of the world and ourselves can expand. Surprises can take many forms. They experienced surprise when seeing pictures of their teacher in his twenties! The students experienced surprise in seeing two liquids mixed and result in the formation of a very long nylon thread. The telling of O. Henry’s Gift of the Magi gave them a taste of surprise endings. The students got to try their own hand at finishing a surprise ending to a Sherlock Holmes story.

Throughout the three weeks, we also wrote poetry. We touched on many different forms including: cinquain, acrostic, sonnet and free verse.

Next week, we will publish some of the Seventh Grade student's writing.
Submitted by Michael Seifert, Grade 7 teacher

Honoring Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. with Service

Over the past few years, we have chosen to honor the legacy of Martin Luther King, Jr. with service. Each class found some way to be of service for a portion of the holiday or at other times close to the holiday. For instance two years in a row, Ms. Shaffer's class (which graduated last spring) worked at the Bonner Community Food Bank prior to the service day, since it is closed that day. They thoroughly enjoyed stocking boxes and shelves and commented on how rewarding it felt to be of service. When the weather cooperated, other classes have shoveled out the driveways of senior citizens or the parking lot of the Sandpoint Senior Center. Still other classes have played board games with residents at assisted living homes or presented songs and verses to them. Each year for the past few years, older classes have helped at the Panhandle Animal Shelter. One year one of our kindergarten classes also went to the animal shelter to deliver catnip cat toys that they had made.

This year our service will have to look different, because we cannot visit many of these places. We will find other ways to be of service: the teachers will be discussing ideas this week, such as holding a food drive, writing cards to the residents in assisted living or nursing homes, and yes, if it snows, shoveling snow. If you have any ideas of ways we can be of service, please contact me.

Traditionally, our eighth grade class has offered a Martin Luther Kind, Jr assembly. As part of the history curriculum in eighth grade, the students study the civil rights movement. Anyone who was here last year will remember the stirring presentation of "I Have a Dream" speech that the eighth grade presented both at assembly and at an evening assembly. This year, however, we cannot gather in an assembly, so we will find other age-appropriate ways to honor Dr. martin Luther King, Jr.

It is good to remember as the entire world faces the challenges of these times this quote by Dr. King. "The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stand in comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy." My experience of our school community is that each one of us is discovering new ways to be flexible, to take on new tasks, to resolve conflicts, and in this case, to discover new ways to honor Dr. King and the work which he began that so urgently needs to be continued.
Submitted by Julie McCallan

Artwork created by our 2020 8th grade graduates last year.

The Reverent Act of Beeswax Candle Dipping

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The warm scent of melted beeswax is the smell of Christmas and the symbol of Waldorf education for me.  Years ago when I was a freshman at Earlham College, my first roommate was a graduate of Green Meadows Waldorf School.  She introduced me to Waldorf education and changed the trajectory of my life.  She had the poise, confidence,  and can-do attitude that is characteristic of many Waldorf graduates and taught me some of what she learned as a Waldorf student.  She taught me to knit in our first month of school and from her descriptions, I was inspired when I went home for Christmas to build a bed and make candles.  The first project  had to be finished by my grandfather and ended my attempts to be a carpenter, but the second one became a yearly tradition.

Today leading the candle dipping with the Fourth and Fifth Graders, I was filled again with the wonder of candle dipping.  Most people doubt that children have the ability to walk around in a circle for 45 minutes, dipping their wick once at each pass.  However, they are fully immersed in the activity and many do not want it to end.  They exclaim as their candles gradually grow bigger and they note the change in color.  When the candle first emerges dripping from the hot wax vat, it looks like the pale, off white glaze on a donut. However, by the time the children have walked half way around the circle, the wax begins to harden and assume a deep golden color. 

Watching the candle change color reminded me of how  teachers get to know their students or how any of us really come to know another human being.  At first, there is only the initial impression; like the glaze on the candle, we are only seeing a superficial outer aspect.  However, as time passes, especially if we provide a loving space and feel reverence for what we are beholding,  the many, many layers of the person are revealed and the rich colors of who they are shine forth, just like in the candle the many layers of wax create the deep rich golden color. 

The children have much to teach us about reverence, about being present in the moment, about finding wonder in simple tasks like candle dipping.  I took a lesson home with me today from our candle dipping:  we can call forth the light in each other by beholding each other in reverence, especially in the dark of winter and in these troubled times. 

Submitted by Julie McCallan