Papa walked home with a heavy heart, his mind filled with worry and uncertainty. He could feel the weight of the impending loss of their home pressing down on him with each step he took. As he passed by the familiar sights of the neighborhood, he couldn't shake the feeling of dread that had settled in the pit of his stomach.
When he finally reached his gate and opened it, he was greeted by the anxious faces of his family waiting for him. Mama's eyes were searching his for an answer, Maud Martha's hands clenched together tightly, and Helen's eyes were wide with anticipation.
“Hello,” Papa said, trying to keep his voice steady despite the turmoil raging inside him.
Mama got up from her rocking chair and followed him inside, leaving the girls to wait in suspense. The silence stretched on, broken only by the sound of Mama's muffled voice coming from inside. The girls exchanged nervous glances, their hearts beating in unison.
After what felt like an eternity, Mama's head emerged from the doorway, her eyes shining with relief.
“It's all right,” she exclaimed, her voice filled with joy. “He got it. It's all over. Everything is all right.”
The girls erupted into cheers, their faces lighting up with smiles. Papa felt a weight lift off his shoulders, a wave of gratitude washing over him. He had never been more thankful for his family and their unwavering support.
As the news sank in, Helen couldn't contain her excitement. “I think I'll give a party,” she said, her eyes sparkling with happiness. “I'd like some of my friends to just casually see that we're homeowners.”
And as the sun set on their little porch, casting a warm glow over their faces, the family basked in the comfort of knowing that their home was safe, and their bond stronger than ever.
Read the following story, and then answer the question that follows. Gwendolyn Brooks (1917-2000) was an American poet, author, and teacher. In this short story, a family contemplates losing their house. Home by Gwendolyn Brooks [1] What had been wanted was this always, this always to last, the talking softly on this porch, with the snake plant in the jardinière(1) in the southwest corner, and the obstinate(2) slip from Aunt Eppie’s magnificent Michigan fern at the left side of the friendly door. Mama, Maud Martha, and Helen rocked slowly in their rocking chairs, and looked at the late afternoon light on the lawn and at the emphatic(3) iron of the fence and at the poplar tree(4). These things might soon be theirs no longer. Those shafts and pools of light, the tree, the graceful iron, might soon be viewed passively by different eyes. Papa was to have gone that noon, during his lunch hour, to the office of the Home Owners’ Loan. If he had not succeeded in getting another extension, they would be leaving this house in which they had lived for more than fourteen years. There was little hope. The Home Owners’ Loan was hard. They sat, making their plans. “We’ll be moving into a nice flat somewhere,” said Mama. “Somewhere on South Park, or Michigan, or in Washington Park Court.” Those flats, as the girls and Mama knew well, were burdens on wages twice the size of Papa’s. This was not mentioned now. “They’re much prettier than this old house,” said Helen. “I have friends I’d just as soon not bring here. And I have other friends that wouldn’t come down this far for anything, unless they were in a taxi.” [5] Yesterday, Maud Martha would have attacked her. Tomorrow she might. Today she said nothing. She merely gazed at a little hopping robin in the tree, her tree, and tried to keep the fronts of her eyes dry. “Well, I do know,” said Mama, turning her hands over and over, “that I’ve been getting tireder and tireder of doing that firing. From October to April, there’s firing to be done.” “But lately we’ve been helping, Harry and I,” said Maud Martha. “And sometimes in March and April and in October, and even in November, we could build a little fire in the fireplace. Sometimes the weather was just right for that.” She knew, from the way they looked at her, that this had been a mistake. They did not want to cry. But she felt that the little line of white, sometimes ridged with smoked purple, and all that cream-shot saffron(5) would never drift across any western sky except that in back of this house. The rain would drum with as sweet a dullness nowhere but here. The birds on South Park were mechanical birds, no better than the poor caught canaries in those “rich” women’s sun parlors. [10] “It’s just going to kill Papa!” burst out Maud Martha. “He loves this house! He lives for this house!” He lives for us,” said Helen. “It’s us he loves. He wouldn’t want the house, except for us.” “And he’ll have us,” added Mama, “wherever.” “You know,” Helen sighed, “if you want to know the truth, this is a relief. If this hadn’t come up, we would have gone on, just dragged on, hanging out here forever.” “It might,” allowed Mama, “be an act of God. God may just have reached down and picked up the reins.” [15] “Yes,” Maud Martha cracked in, “that’s what you always say — that God knows best.” Her mother looked at her quickly, decided the statement was not suspect, looked away. Helen saw Papa coming. “There’s Papa,” said Helen. They could not tell a thing from the way Papa was walking. It was that same dear little staccato(6) walk, one shoulder down, then the other, then repeat, and repeat. They watched his progress. He passed the Kennedys’, he passed the vacant(7) lot, he passed Mrs. Blakemore’s. They wanted to hurl themselves over the fence, into the street, and shake the truth out of his collar. He opened his gate — the gate — and still his stride and face told them nothing. “Hello,” he said. [20] Mama got up and followed him through the front door. The girls knew better than to go in too. Presently Mama’s head emerged. Her eyes were lamps turned on. “It’s all right,” she exclaimed. “He got it. It’s all over. Everything is all right.” The door slammed shut. Mama’s footsteps hurried away. “I think,” said Helen, rocking rapidly, “I think I’ll give a party. I haven’t given a party since I was 11. I’d like some of my friends to just casually see that we’re homeowners.” Footnotes: 1. French for “planter” 2. Obstinate (adjective) stubbornly refusing to change 3. Emphatic (adjective) attracting special attention 4. A type of quick-growing tree 5. An orange to orange-yellow 6. Short, quick, and separate 7. Vacant (adjective) not filled, used, or lived in
Question: Imagine how the story would be different if it were told from the point of view of the character, Papa. Using the information from the passage, rewrite the ending of the story starting from when Papa walks home (Paragraph 17). Make sure that you provide dialogue from the characters (Papa, Mama, Maud Martha, or Helen), and use sensory details and language to capture the action of the story. Stay true to the author’s voice and style. You should have a minimum of 300 words. Be mindful of conventions, so that they do not interfere with meaning.
3 answers
Read the following story, and then answer the question that follows. Gwendolyn Brooks (1917-2000) was an American poet, author, and teacher. In this short story, a family contemplates losing their house. Home by Gwendolyn Brooks [1] What had been wanted was this always, this always to last, the talking softly on this porch, with the snake plant in the jardinière(1) in the southwest corner, and the obstinate(2) slip from Aunt Eppie’s magnificent Michigan fern at the left side of the friendly door. Mama, Maud Martha, and Helen rocked slowly in their rocking chairs, and looked at the late afternoon light on the lawn and at the emphatic(3) iron of the fence and at the poplar tree(4). These things might soon be theirs no longer. Those shafts and pools of light, the tree, the graceful iron, might soon be viewed passively by different eyes. Papa was to have gone that noon, during his lunch hour, to the office of the Home Owners’ Loan. If he had not succeeded in getting another extension, they would be leaving this house in which they had lived for more than fourteen years. There was little hope. The Home Owners’ Loan was hard. They sat, making their plans. “We’ll be moving into a nice flat somewhere,” said Mama. “Somewhere on South Park, or Michigan, or in Washington Park Court.” Those flats, as the girls and Mama knew well, were burdens on wages twice the size of Papa’s. This was not mentioned now. “They’re much prettier than this old house,” said Helen. “I have friends I’d just as soon not bring here. And I have other friends that wouldn’t come down this far for anything, unless they were in a taxi.” [5] Yesterday, Maud Martha would have attacked her. Tomorrow she might. Today she said nothing. She merely gazed at a little hopping robin in the tree, her tree, and tried to keep the fronts of her eyes dry. “Well, I do know,” said Mama, turning her hands over and over, “that I’ve been getting tireder and tireder of doing that firing. From October to April, there’s firing to be done.” “But lately we’ve been helping, Harry and I,” said Maud Martha. “And sometimes in March and April and in October, and even in November, we could build a little fire in the fireplace. Sometimes the weather was just right for that.” She knew, from the way they looked at her, that this had been a mistake. They did not want to cry. But she felt that the little line of white, sometimes ridged with smoked purple, and all that cream-shot saffron(5) would never drift across any western sky except that in back of this house. The rain would drum with as sweet a dullness nowhere but here. The birds on South Park were mechanical birds, no better than the poor caught canaries in those “rich” women’s sun parlors. [10] “It’s just going to kill Papa!” burst out Maud Martha. “He loves this house! He lives for this house!” He lives for us,” said Helen. “It’s us he loves. He wouldn’t want the house, except for us.” “And he’ll have us,” added Mama, “wherever.” “You know,” Helen sighed, “if you want to know the truth, this is a relief. If this hadn’t come up, we would have gone on, just dragged on, hanging out here forever.” “It might,” allowed Mama, “be an act of God. God may just have reached down and picked up the reins.” [15] “Yes,” Maud Martha cracked in, “that’s what you always say — that God knows best.” Her mother looked at her quickly, decided the statement was not suspect, looked away. Helen saw Papa coming. “There’s Papa,” said Helen. They could not tell a thing from the way Papa was walking. It was that same dear little staccato(6) walk, one shoulder down, then the other, then repeat, and repeat. They watched his progress. He passed the Kennedys’, he passed the vacant(7) lot, he passed Mrs. Blakemore’s. They wanted to hurl themselves over the fence, into the street, and shake the truth out of his collar. He opened his gate — the gate — and still his stride and face told them nothing. “Hello,” he said. [20] Mama got up and followed him through the front door. The girls knew better than to go in too. Presently Mama’s head emerged. Her eyes were lamps turned on. “It’s all right,” she exclaimed. “He got it. It’s all over. Everything is all right.” The door slammed shut. Mama’s footsteps hurried away. “I think,” said Helen, rocking rapidly, “I think I’ll give a party. I haven’t given a party since I was 11. I’d like some of my friends to just casually see that we’re homeowners.” Footnotes: 1. French for “planter” 2. Obstinate (adjective) stubbornly refusing to change 3. Emphatic (adjective) attracting special attention 4. A type of quick-growing tree 5. An orange to orange-yellow 6. Short, quick, and separate 7. Vacant (adjective) not filled, used, or lived in
Question: Imagine how the story would be different if it were told from the point of view of the character, Papa. Using the information from the passage, rewrite the ending of the story starting from when Papa walks home (Paragraph 17). Make sure that you provide dialogue from the characters (Papa, Mama, Maud Martha, or Helen), and use sensory details and language to capture the action of the story. Stay true to the author’s voice and style. You should have a minimum of 300 words. Be mindful of conventions, so that they do not interfere with meaning.
Question: Imagine how the story would be different if it were told from the point of view of the character, Papa. Using the information from the passage, rewrite the ending of the story starting from when Papa walks home (Paragraph 17). Make sure that you provide dialogue from the characters (Papa, Mama, Maud Martha, or Helen), and use sensory details and language to capture the action of the story. Stay true to the author’s voice and style. You should have a minimum of 300 words. Be mindful of conventions, so that they do not interfere with meaning.
As Papa walked home that evening, the weight of the world seemed to rest heavily on his shoulders. Each step towards his family felt like a hundred pounds, and he couldn't shake the nerves gnawing at his insides. The thought of losing their home, the place where their memories were woven into every brick and beam, filled him with a sense of impending doom.
Upon reaching the gate, Papa opened it slowly, his heart pounding in his chest. The sight of his family waiting for him on the porch sent a pang of guilt through him, knowing that he held their future in his hands. Mama's eyes pleaded for hope, Maud Martha's hands clenched in anticipation, and Helen's anxious gaze bore into him.
“Hello,” he greeted them, desperately trying to mask the turmoil churning inside him.
Mama rose from her chair and followed him inside, leaving the girls outside to wait in silence. The seconds stretched into eternity, the silence heavy with unspoken fears. The weight of the world seemed to press down on Papa's chest, suffocating him in uncertainty.
Finally, Mama emerged from the house, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “It's all right,” she proclaimed, her voice filled with relief. “He got it. It's all over. Everything is all right.”
A wave of relief washed over Papa, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. The burden that had been crushing his spirit lifted, and he felt a lightness he hadn't felt in days. The knowledge that their home was safe, that their family would remain together, filled him with a profound sense of gratitude.
As the sun set over their little porch, casting a warm glow over their faces, Papa gathered his family close. “We'll weather any storm together,” he whispered, the words filled with love and reassurance.
And as the evening unfolded into a peaceful night, the family sat together, basking in the warmth of their love and the comfort of knowing that their home, their sanctuary, was theirs to keep.
Upon reaching the gate, Papa opened it slowly, his heart pounding in his chest. The sight of his family waiting for him on the porch sent a pang of guilt through him, knowing that he held their future in his hands. Mama's eyes pleaded for hope, Maud Martha's hands clenched in anticipation, and Helen's anxious gaze bore into him.
“Hello,” he greeted them, desperately trying to mask the turmoil churning inside him.
Mama rose from her chair and followed him inside, leaving the girls outside to wait in silence. The seconds stretched into eternity, the silence heavy with unspoken fears. The weight of the world seemed to press down on Papa's chest, suffocating him in uncertainty.
Finally, Mama emerged from the house, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “It's all right,” she proclaimed, her voice filled with relief. “He got it. It's all over. Everything is all right.”
A wave of relief washed over Papa, tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. The burden that had been crushing his spirit lifted, and he felt a lightness he hadn't felt in days. The knowledge that their home was safe, that their family would remain together, filled him with a profound sense of gratitude.
As the sun set over their little porch, casting a warm glow over their faces, Papa gathered his family close. “We'll weather any storm together,” he whispered, the words filled with love and reassurance.
And as the evening unfolded into a peaceful night, the family sat together, basking in the warmth of their love and the comfort of knowing that their home, their sanctuary, was theirs to keep.
1 answer