As Papa walked home, his heart beat louder in his chest with each step. His mind raced with worries about the fate of their beloved home. Would they have to leave the place where they had built so many memories as a family? The weight of the decision sat heavy on his shoulders, and he clenched his jaw as he approached the gate.
Mama's eyes met his as he entered the yard, and he could see the tension in her face. The girls sat on the porch, watching him intently, their eyes filled with a mixture of fear and hope. He knew he had to share the news, whatever it may be, with them.
"It's all right," Papa said, his voice strained with emotion. "I got it. It's all over. Everything is all right." The words felt foreign on his tongue, as if he could hardly believe them himself.
Mama let out a sigh of relief, her eyes shining with tears. She embraced Papa tightly, grateful for the news. Maud Martha and Helen broke into smiles, their faces lighting up with joy and gratitude.
"Thank God," Maud Martha whispered, her voice filled with emotion. "I can't imagine leaving this place."
Helen's eyes sparkled with excitement. "I think I'll give a party," she exclaimed. "I want everyone to know that we get to stay."
As they all gathered on the porch, the late afternoon sun casting a warm glow on their faces, Papa felt a sense of peace wash over him. The familiar sights and sounds of their home seemed even more precious to him in that moment. He knew that no matter what challenges may come, they would face them together as a family.
And as they sat together, surrounded by the love and comfort of their home, Papa couldn't help but feel grateful for the second chance they had been given. He knew that their bond as a family was stronger than any hardship they may face, and that was truly something to be celebrated.
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.
Rubric-CLICK HERE to see how this will be scored.
Writer's Checklist- CLICK HERE for the Writer's Checklist to make sure you
have included everything you need to in your written response.
1 answer
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