A rewrite of Androcles and the Lion by Glennellen...
I ran for my life that night, fleeting to the forest. I had managed to escape from my cruel master without being caught. I’d been his slave, his servant, all of my life. I’d dreamed about this escape since the day he bought me at the market. And now here I was, running through the cold, dark midnight, not daring to look back and praying fiercely.
I had finally reached the woody forest, and bundled up near a tree to try to catch some sleep when I was sure I was a great distance away from my original home…if that’s what you can call it. But I couldn’t sleep. How could I? So many thoughts were running through my head. Like the fact that I’d never have to feel the horrible pain of whenever my master would beat me when he was mad or upset with me; and not having to wake up in fear the next morning of what was to become of me that day. Not only were these thoughts keeping me awake, but my heart was pounding from all of the running.
Eventually, the sun began to rise; and I could see through the entire Greenwood. I began to wander around, breathing in the fresh air and feeling free. I was rather enjoying myself, until I came upon something that made me stop dead in my tracks, wide-eyed. There, about 4 yards in front of me, lay a lion in the grass. He seemed to be in pain; for he was moaning and groaning, and wallowing on his back in the meshy ground. Immediately, I turned to run away in fear it might attack me, hence its injury. But to my surprise, he did not pursue me. Instead, he remained where he was, looking desperate for help. Sorrow swept over me, and I began to walk towards the big lion.
As I knelt down beside him, I noticed his left paw was raised limply. It was swollen and bleeding, and after I brought myself to take it into my hands, I examined it. I realized that there was a huge thorn in his paw, and that it was the source of all the pain. I looked into the remarkable creature’s great, chestnut eyes, which gazed at me as if they were wondering what I was about to do to him. I took my thumb and index finger, gingerly removing the nasty, sharp object out of his furry skin and bound it up with some cloth from my rag shirt.
He then rolled over on his stomach, and gracefully stood on all fours when he was able to do so without it hurting him. I sat on my knees, watching the lion with curious and awe-struck eyes. He was truly a magnificent creature. His brownish-gold fur glistened in the sunlight. After looking at me for a moment, he suddenly started licking my hands, just as a puppy would do. He seemed so grateful and kind, and I couldn’t help but laugh with happiness, and relief, as he kept kissing my hand with his tongue.
Later on, the lion and I began to roam through the forest together. The sun was beginning to set, and the lion led me into his cave, giving me shelter for the night and a home. He even came back with fresh meat from his prey for us to eat at meals. For what seemed like the first time in my life, I felt like I was at home.
This lasted for about a week, when one day we heard other humans within the woods. I feared it was perhaps my old master with some other hunters to help him search for me. It turned out it wasn’t; but before I could feel safe again, the Lion and I were both captured by these strangers. I cried out to my dear friend in agony as they pulled us out of the forest. I knew that I’d probably be just a slave again to another human now, but what was to become of the Lion is what had me most concerned.
The strangers then held me captive without food or drink for several days. I then heard them discussing what was to be done with me after the horrible latter of hunger. “We’re to throw the boy to the Lion,” I heard them say. “Tomorrow morning.”
What? This couldn’t be happening! These horrible people were to make a savage of my friend in front of many people by making me its prey. How could one do such a thing? Would my lion friend really eat me?
The next day, I was taken to stand in the middle of an arena, which was crowded by many observers. I took in my surroundings, and saw that even the Emperor and all his Court had come to watch. He looked content and curious, his hands folded nicely in his lap and his eyes on me. Then finally came the event of the day. I heard a snarl come from behind me, and whipped my head around to see the Lion being let loose from his den. I stared at him, blankly. I felt myself freeze and not even attempt to make a run. Silent but powerful tears sprang to my eyes as I stared at the great Lion spot me. He bounded towards me, growling and roaring louder than ever. I clamped my eyes shut tight, waiting for the pain. But the pain didn’t come. I opened my eyes to see my friend staring at me with knowing eyes. Hope fluttered in my heart, and I gazed right back at him. Then, the most beautiful thing of all, the Lion fawned upon me and started licking me like a puppy, just like he had when we’d first met. I couldn’t help but let out tears of joy and love him back when he did this. I was once again reunited with my friend.
I heard gasps of shock from the crowd, along with utter confusion and much conversation. I looked in the Emperor’s direction to see his reaction to this, and he was absolutely shocked. He rose slowly from his chair, never taking his eyes off of the Lion and me. Then he summoned me to him.
After I walked toward him, he spoke. “Your name, child.”
“Androcles, sir,” I said.
“Androcles,” he said. “What is the purpose of this? Never in my life…” He didn’t even finish his next sentence. I took a deep breath, and told him the whole the story of when I’d run away and found the Lion in the forest. The Emperor looked at me with an amazed expression, and he looked at me as a father would who is proud of a child.
“I pardon and free you,” he said to me. “And your friend may return to his native forest, as well.”
I felt great joy within me, and my Lion friend and I soon returned back to the forest.
The beautiful purpose of this tale is based on gratitude and loyalty. In this case, it is known as the saying, “Gratitude is the sign of noble souls.”
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
New York, The City that Never Sleeps
Here's Glennellen's essay:
Suspended above me was a sky of bright white, cloudless and blank. Though in some ways it should be somewhat blinding, it was just fine to my eyesight. Cars and taxis zoomed past me, some honking as they raced down the busy highway. People flooded the streets of the crowded city; talking, hailing a cab, chatting on their cell phones… Almost everyone seemed to be in a hurry. Some on their way to work, some on their way to lunch, to a meeting, or just errands. It was all pure chaos. I could smell the gas fumes and pollution of NYC that filled the air. It made my head spin. I could also smell freshly popped popcorn, coffee and lattes from the Starbucks across the street, food, perfume from boutiques…all sorts of smells that filled my senses.
Hustle and bustle filled the cramped and industrious sidewalks, a sort of exhilarating turmoil. The rush of the city amazed me!
Nowhere was there a sense of peace or tranquillity. Everywhere I turned, sound filled my ears and made my eardrums rattle.
I walked past designer shops, boutiques, fancy restaurants, apartment buildings, a movie theater, bookstores, and all other sorts of fascinating places that caught my eye. I later found myself nearing one of the fantastic Broadway theaters. Towering above me were animated posters of famous shows, like “Wicked” and “Mama Mia!”. I could only imagine how amazing and magical the theatricals were when they came to life onstage… I walked into the magnificent theater, feeling as if I were home, as the two big doors closed behind me; eliminating all the craziness and noise of the outside world. I was finally in my own world again- the place where the outside world cannot touch me. Where I am lost in the beauty and the magic of the moment.
Who knew one place could hold such sweetness and fulfillment in my heart?
Suspended above me was a sky of bright white, cloudless and blank. Though in some ways it should be somewhat blinding, it was just fine to my eyesight. Cars and taxis zoomed past me, some honking as they raced down the busy highway. People flooded the streets of the crowded city; talking, hailing a cab, chatting on their cell phones… Almost everyone seemed to be in a hurry. Some on their way to work, some on their way to lunch, to a meeting, or just errands. It was all pure chaos. I could smell the gas fumes and pollution of NYC that filled the air. It made my head spin. I could also smell freshly popped popcorn, coffee and lattes from the Starbucks across the street, food, perfume from boutiques…all sorts of smells that filled my senses.
Hustle and bustle filled the cramped and industrious sidewalks, a sort of exhilarating turmoil. The rush of the city amazed me!
Nowhere was there a sense of peace or tranquillity. Everywhere I turned, sound filled my ears and made my eardrums rattle.
I walked past designer shops, boutiques, fancy restaurants, apartment buildings, a movie theater, bookstores, and all other sorts of fascinating places that caught my eye. I later found myself nearing one of the fantastic Broadway theaters. Towering above me were animated posters of famous shows, like “Wicked” and “Mama Mia!”. I could only imagine how amazing and magical the theatricals were when they came to life onstage… I walked into the magnificent theater, feeling as if I were home, as the two big doors closed behind me; eliminating all the craziness and noise of the outside world. I was finally in my own world again- the place where the outside world cannot touch me. Where I am lost in the beauty and the magic of the moment.
Who knew one place could hold such sweetness and fulfillment in my heart?
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
A Quiet Place
Here's Amy's description:
I look around in the early morning, watching the sun rise over the steep hills in the distance. Dark rocks sitting in the still, blue waters reflect the sun above. The smell of the clean breeze moving by me, waves through the tall, old oak trees that rest by the bay, a peaceful presence in the air.
I look around in the early morning, watching the sun rise over the steep hills in the distance. Dark rocks sitting in the still, blue waters reflect the sun above. The smell of the clean breeze moving by me, waves through the tall, old oak trees that rest by the bay, a peaceful presence in the air.
Friday, January 9, 2009
My Essay Thing ....
The Brightness of the lights , all most blinded me , as I got out of the small , cramped taxi . You couldn't even see the stars , in the dark, black sky . So many buildings towered over me like giants starring down at me . As I was searching for a place to eat , I smelled all of the food , which made me hungrier then I was before . The busy people almost knocked me over , trying to get to the shops and the restaurants . The sounds of cars beeping and people chattering , filled my ears. Finally , I got into a restaurant , out of the busy city , and finally got to eat .
~Meghan
Describing setting..
Here's Anna's essay:
Adobe Homes in Italy
As I remember it, it was very calm. Only a little noise from the few fisherman departing on their boats or returning from their venture, and the sound of their wives hanging the laundry over the railings and chatting with their neighbors. It smelled of the sea, but even more so of fish. A pleasant smell it was, yet revolting at the same time. You could literally taste the salt in your mouth, without even tasting any of the water from the sea.
It was late morning, the sky a clear blue. In fact, it matched the top tier of the fishing boats. The sun glimmered high above the few breaths of clouds, almost as if the clouds had left on some adventure and forgotten to bring their shadows also.
The village was beautiful, all the adobe homes on top of each other. Their foundation was a cliff... Though this frightened me at first, I eventually got used to it. The homes closer to the sky were blander than those closer to the sea. The homes near the sky were in creams and beiges, and a few grey from the wear and tear of the sea weather. Those closer to the sea I loved the most. They dazzled me in sunny yellows and pinks that should belong to a bubblegum making factory. All these homes were two stories or more (in fact most were three stories!), many with stairs leading to the front doors, which were on the second floor (usually). Most of the homes windows and doors were open, because everyone loved the breeze from the sea during those hot summer days. Even nearer to the sea were the fishing boats and their nets, most of the nets thrown askew on the concrete. The boats were of wood and had three different colors, red, white, and blue. It was strange to see these colors in Italy, they reminded me of my American heritage. The fishing nets glowed in shades of red and pink, with ropes resting on top of some of them. Further out was the sea, shallow and crystal clear with the sun shining down on it. So inviting it was on such a hot summer day that I longed to dive into it head first. However, my logic told me that I would probably not be seeing a lot of this beautiful village if I tried such a thing!
Monday, December 22, 2008
Thursday, December 11, 2008
Glennellen's Compare/contrast essay
Glennellen’s Essay
In this essay, I am going to discuss two short stories by two brilliant authors. One of the stories is entitled “The Little Match Girl” written by Hans Christian Andersen in the 1800s. The other story is entitled “A Child Dreams of a Star” by Charles Dickens in the 1800s. He is known best for his Christmas classic, “A Christmas Carol”. Both men were born relatively around the same time, and were both very famous authors.
The story of “A Child Dreams of a Star” is about a young boy, a very caring, loyal, and positive child. He loves his family dearly, and has a special spot in his heart for his little sister. Every night, they would look out and see a bright, shining star that would come out before all other did. Unfortunately, she becomes ill, and is so weak that she can no longer look at the star anymore. Her brother would for her. She soon passes, causing much grief upon her family…especially her brother. He missed her so, but would always keep a positive mind. He loses all those who are dear to him through his life, including his mother and newborn brother. He longs to be with them, but knows that he will be soon. When he eventually grows to be an old man, he becomes tired and weak. He then ascends to Heaven to be with his family and loved ones, and all is right…at the right moment, and at the right place.
The story of “The Little Match Girl” is about a young girl, who is poor and without a mother. Her father is a cruel man, so she feels unloved and lonely…and often longs for something better. She roamed through the streets one night, with no shoes and clothed in rags. She had only owned a pair of slippers, but one she lost and one fell off her foot and was stolen by a little boy. He told her that it would make a good cradle for his own child when he was older. He said this because the shoes had been so large and way too big for her little feet. She was hungry, tired, and chilled to the bone as she continued to walk in the dark night. It was New Years Eve, and all the lights were on in every house. She could smell the roast goose in the air, making her mouth salivate. She had sold nothing that day, and new that if she were to return that night to her home, her father would surly beat her for not earning any money. She then came to a little corner between two houses, and sank down within it, huddling herself together to keep warm. She was frozen, and longing to be warmed and fed. Inside her pocket remained a little box of matches she had not sold. She took one and gave it a “scratch!” and it sputtered as it burnt. In the light of the fire, it appeared that she was next to a large iron stove. It had polished brass feet and a brass ornament. The light burnt out and she no longer saw these images. She then lit another match, and saw a table with a snowy tablecloth upon it, and on top of that, a roast goose stuffed with apples and dried plums. The goose jumped at her, with a knife and fork in its breast. Then the match went out. She lit another match, and this time found herself underneath a Christmas tree, larger and more beautifully decorated than any other she had seen before. And the light went out. She looked out and saw a star falling from the sky, and quietly said to herself, “Someone is dying”. Her old grandmother, the only one who had ever loved her, had told her when she was alive that whenever a star falls from the sky, a soul is going up to God…
She lit yet another match, and saw in the brightness, clear and shining, the figure of her grandmother. “Grandmother!” she exclaimed. “Oh, take me with you; I know you will go away when the match burns out; you will vanish like the warm stove, the roast goose, and the large, glorious Christmas tree.” She hastily lit all of her last matches in haste so that she may keep her grandmother with her. Her grandmother had never looked so beautiful. She took the little girl up in her arms, and carried her away with her, up to the Heavens, the brightness, the joy far above the earth, a place where there was no hunger, pain or cold, to be with God. In the dawn of morning, her little corpse, pale and smiling was found. She had frozen to death on the last night of the year. She sat there, in the stiffness of death, holding her little matches in her tiny hand, a bundle of which were all burnt. Some people would say, “She tried to warm herself with them”. No one ever quite knew, nor did they know what wonderful things she had seen or the glory she had entered with her grandmother, on New Years Day.
Both of these short stories have such meaning to them. They teach us not to be afraid of death, nor to look upon it as such a horrible and dreadful thing. When we die, it is the time that god meant for us to. Don’t wish to die, but do not wish not to die. Both authors made this very clear through such wonderful, meaningful short stories. The main conflicts of the stories include Man vs. Death, Man vs. God, and Man vs. nature. We can truly learn something from both stories and enjoy them thoroughly at the same time.
In this essay, I am going to discuss two short stories by two brilliant authors. One of the stories is entitled “The Little Match Girl” written by Hans Christian Andersen in the 1800s. The other story is entitled “A Child Dreams of a Star” by Charles Dickens in the 1800s. He is known best for his Christmas classic, “A Christmas Carol”. Both men were born relatively around the same time, and were both very famous authors.
The story of “A Child Dreams of a Star” is about a young boy, a very caring, loyal, and positive child. He loves his family dearly, and has a special spot in his heart for his little sister. Every night, they would look out and see a bright, shining star that would come out before all other did. Unfortunately, she becomes ill, and is so weak that she can no longer look at the star anymore. Her brother would for her. She soon passes, causing much grief upon her family…especially her brother. He missed her so, but would always keep a positive mind. He loses all those who are dear to him through his life, including his mother and newborn brother. He longs to be with them, but knows that he will be soon. When he eventually grows to be an old man, he becomes tired and weak. He then ascends to Heaven to be with his family and loved ones, and all is right…at the right moment, and at the right place.
The story of “The Little Match Girl” is about a young girl, who is poor and without a mother. Her father is a cruel man, so she feels unloved and lonely…and often longs for something better. She roamed through the streets one night, with no shoes and clothed in rags. She had only owned a pair of slippers, but one she lost and one fell off her foot and was stolen by a little boy. He told her that it would make a good cradle for his own child when he was older. He said this because the shoes had been so large and way too big for her little feet. She was hungry, tired, and chilled to the bone as she continued to walk in the dark night. It was New Years Eve, and all the lights were on in every house. She could smell the roast goose in the air, making her mouth salivate. She had sold nothing that day, and new that if she were to return that night to her home, her father would surly beat her for not earning any money. She then came to a little corner between two houses, and sank down within it, huddling herself together to keep warm. She was frozen, and longing to be warmed and fed. Inside her pocket remained a little box of matches she had not sold. She took one and gave it a “scratch!” and it sputtered as it burnt. In the light of the fire, it appeared that she was next to a large iron stove. It had polished brass feet and a brass ornament. The light burnt out and she no longer saw these images. She then lit another match, and saw a table with a snowy tablecloth upon it, and on top of that, a roast goose stuffed with apples and dried plums. The goose jumped at her, with a knife and fork in its breast. Then the match went out. She lit another match, and this time found herself underneath a Christmas tree, larger and more beautifully decorated than any other she had seen before. And the light went out. She looked out and saw a star falling from the sky, and quietly said to herself, “Someone is dying”. Her old grandmother, the only one who had ever loved her, had told her when she was alive that whenever a star falls from the sky, a soul is going up to God…
She lit yet another match, and saw in the brightness, clear and shining, the figure of her grandmother. “Grandmother!” she exclaimed. “Oh, take me with you; I know you will go away when the match burns out; you will vanish like the warm stove, the roast goose, and the large, glorious Christmas tree.” She hastily lit all of her last matches in haste so that she may keep her grandmother with her. Her grandmother had never looked so beautiful. She took the little girl up in her arms, and carried her away with her, up to the Heavens, the brightness, the joy far above the earth, a place where there was no hunger, pain or cold, to be with God. In the dawn of morning, her little corpse, pale and smiling was found. She had frozen to death on the last night of the year. She sat there, in the stiffness of death, holding her little matches in her tiny hand, a bundle of which were all burnt. Some people would say, “She tried to warm herself with them”. No one ever quite knew, nor did they know what wonderful things she had seen or the glory she had entered with her grandmother, on New Years Day.
Both of these short stories have such meaning to them. They teach us not to be afraid of death, nor to look upon it as such a horrible and dreadful thing. When we die, it is the time that god meant for us to. Don’t wish to die, but do not wish not to die. Both authors made this very clear through such wonderful, meaningful short stories. The main conflicts of the stories include Man vs. Death, Man vs. God, and Man vs. nature. We can truly learn something from both stories and enjoy them thoroughly at the same time.
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