Ryan has been learning creative writing in second grade. Actually, he has been very frustrated with it.
He was given an assignment to write a story about a dog that got lost and had an adventure. As he sat down to write the story, his eyes filled with tears and he became frustrated and upset. He stood up and threw the paper on the floor and stormed off.
Fran went to talk to him and ask him why he was so frustrated.
Ryan responded, "If the dog gets lost, how will I know what kind of adventure he has?!"
Later, I explained to Ryan that, since he was the writer, he got to decide exactly what happened to the dog. That, if he wanted, he could have the dog run into a circus, or get a juicy steak, or jump into a hot air balloon, or anything he wanted. He smiled excitedly and seemed to get it. I told him that it would get easier and easier the more he tried it.
Sunday, while sitting in church, I started sketching a scene which has been in my mind from his baseball game this past summer. One of the fielders threw a ball to the catcher as Ryan was running home--the catcher flopped backwards with the ball to tag Ryan out. Ryan, however, while still in perfect stride, leaped over the outstretched glove and stepped on home plate for a run. I was coaching at third base and got the best view of anyone on the field. It was one of the most athletic plays I've seen him make, and it made me proud. Things like that sometimes come to me at inopportune times, like when I should be listening to the preacher.
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2 comments:
Bless Ryan's lost dog! I love the stories you post about your kids.
Once there was a dog named Kooky. He had a brown belly, and a black back, with a thin white stripe than ran from the tip of his nose to the end of his tail, where all the fur at the end of the earth looked off in different directions. Walking along one day, Kooky found a smell, a smell he'd never smelt before. It was a little like Rabbit, slightly like Shoe, and nothing like Tomato. The smell had journeyed along this way recently.
Kooky's boy called for him, but all he saw was Kooky sniffing, getting further and further away. The smell seemed stronger up here, as though the thing that was also a little bit Sofa had paused for a while. Then it had moved on, a little surther, a little further. And then Kooky was gone.
The end.
Thanks for the nice comments, Stormfilled, and for the great story! I'm going to print it out and tell Ryan that it came from England--he'll be extremely excited!
I try to be careful about posting too much about the kids--obviously, they occupy a lot of my energy...
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