Cally's Adventure

 Good morning,

Do you ever have a week where you feel like you are starting out the week behind and you never quite seem to catch up? That's sort of how I've felt this week. We had a lot of fun on Saturday at our church picnic for the 4th of July. (I even joined in the adults' baseball game.) And Sunday was busy with orchestra practice then playing and then I taught children's church. On Monday I was tired. I went to a parade with my best friend, and took a nap in the afternoon. Wednesday night I worked nursery at church, last night I attended a political meeting and found out who I was NOT going to vote for. (Hint: If you want my vote, don't spend most of your speech criticizing and tearing down your opponent and the shaking your head and rolling your eyes when he's telling the truth about your accusations.)

Anyway, writing has been slow. I have only gotten just over 3k written all month! Am I going to have to lower my goal? I hope not, but we'll see. I've also been busy with some other needed things for my website or blog, and preparing a cover of that "secret project" I've mentioned here before. Not to mention Camp is going on.

We haven't been walking because it's so hot! When you are under heat warnings and it's 103ºF with a heat index of 107º or more, you don't feel like walking. At least I don't.

Today's story is one I wrote several years ago for some young friends. I changed the names and decided to let you all read it. Just remember, it was written for little children.

 

Cally’s Adventure

    It was a beautiful summer morning. All the birds were awake and singing. The flowers nodded their heads to a small brown, yellow, and white kitten as it slowly walked down the sidewalk. A yellow butterfly flitted in front of the kitten and, Cally, for that was the kitten’s name, scampered after it down the sidewalk until the butterfly floated up into the blue sky. Then Cally sat down and began to wash her face, for she had forgotten to do it before leaving the house.
    It didn’t take Cally long to finish washing, and she once more started off. She was going exploring all by herself. Usually her owners, Emmy, April, and Joel were outside with her, but they had been busy when Cally had slipped out the door that hadn’t been latched.
    Quickly Cally darted across the street and into an empty field. There were so many flowers to stop and sniff, bugs to look at, and butterflies to follow, that Cally didn’t pay any attention to where she was or to where she was going.
    When a sudden movement in the grass near a tiny stream caught her attention, Cally crouched down, hoping it was a mouse and she could catch it. But instead of a mouse, a strange creature that Cally had never seen before jumped out from behind the rock.
    Cally tipped her head and stared at him, and the creature stared back. Slowly she stretched out her head to sniff the small thing, but when her nose came close, the creature jumped away.
    This so startled Cally that she gave a jump backwards. She didn’t know it, but the little creature was a frog.
    Both the kitten and the frog stared at each other again. Then Cally stepped forward cautiously. She didn’t want to frighten her new playmate. “Meow,” she said softly.
    The frog jumped away again and waited.
    Cally followed.
    Again the frog jumped.
    And again Cally followed.
    It became a little game, and Cally never once thought of how late it was getting or where she was. All she was interested in was getting close to that jumping creature.
    Then suddenly, the little frog jumped onto a large rock in the middle of the stream.
    Cally stopped at the edge of the water. “Meow!” she complained to the frog. “Meow!” Cally didn’t think it was very nice for the frog to jump onto a rock in the stream, for Cally, like most cats, didn’t like water. “Meow, meow,” Cally called, trying to coax the frog back to dry land where any sensible creature would want to be.

*

    Back at the house, Emmy, April, and Joel were looking all over for Cally. They called and called, but there was no small kitten anywhere.
    “Perhaps she went outside,” April said.
    “May we go look for her, Mom,” Emmy asked.
    “Me too!” Joel put in quickly.
    Mom looked at the children. “Yes, you may go look in the yard, but if she’s not there, you will need to get someone big to go with you.”
    “Okay.” Quickly the three children ran outside.
    “Cally! Cally!” They called and called, but Cally didn’t answer.
    “I’m hot,” Emmy said, sinking down to rest on one of the swings.
    “Me too,” April agreed. She sat down on the other swing.
    “Not me,” Joel called, running to look under another bush. He didn’t find Cally, but he did find a stick, which he kept, knowing it could be very useful.
    “Meow.” It was a very faint call, but all three children heard it.
    “That’s Cally!” April exclaimed!
    “But she’s not in the yard. Quick!” Emmy jumped from her swing and ran to the house. “Cally’s not in the yard, but we can hear her!” she called.
    Mom sent one of their big sisters to go with them.
    The children followed the sound of Cally’s cries until they came to a street. After looking carefully in both directions, and with Joel holding their sister’s hand, they crossed it. A large and lovely field stretched before them, but April didn’t stop to pick any flowers, and Emmy didn’t try to catch any butterflies. Even Joel forgot to look for bugs.

*

    “Meow!” Cally called to the frog again. But the frog wouldn’t jump back. So Cally decided to be brave and attempt to jump across the nasty water and join the frog. Crouching low, she made a valiant attempt and actually made it to the rock!
    But where had the frog gone? Carefully she sniffed all around the rock. He was nowhere to be found. As she moved to the farthest edge of the rock, it tipped, and Cally’s back feet fell into the water.
    “Meow!” Frantically she tried to scramble back, but the rock wobbled unsteadily. “Meow!” she cried. “Meow. Meow!”
    “There she is!” Emmy and April shouted at once.
    Cally heard the voices and meowed again. A moment later she felt herself lifted up and handed to the safety of Emmy’s arms. Cally gave one more pitiful, “Meow,” and then settled down.
    April stroked the kitten’s head and crooned over her. “You poor kitty. You shouldn’t go out and get lost. What were you doing in the water?”
    “A frog!” Joel, as soon as he had seen the kitten was safe, had begun exploring the water’s edge and poking his stick into the small current. “Look, look! A froggy!” Joel abandoned his stick and started after the frog. Twice he almost had it, but each time the creature hopped just out of his reach.
    “Let’s go home now,” Emmy suggested. “We found Cally.”
    “I want to catch a frog,” Joel said, still chasing the frog. “See, I found a frog!”
    “Yes,” Big Sister said, “but we can’t keep a frog, Joel. He wouldn’t like it at our house. And we need to take Cally home for her breakfast.”
    Cally began to purr. She didn’t know what a frog was, but going home sounded good, and breakfast sounded even better.

How was your week?

Do you like the heat or the cooler weather better?

Did you enjoy this story?

The Race Won by Inches

 Hello, Friday Fiction Fans,

    I've been busy. I've actually been getting something written every day so far this week and I'm oh, so close to reaching the end of "Lake Wood" (Woodbreak Book 3)! Pray that I can actually finish it before the end of the month because next month I have other things I HAVE to work on.

    Another thing I've been doing this week is blog posts! Since I know later this year is going to be super busy, I'm trying to get as many posts done and scheduled ahead of time for Read Another Page as possible. At least I have all the posts for the rest of the year figured out even if I still have to write them.  One set of posts I have been working on are my Five Fall Favorites. :) Stay tuned for more information on that.

    Let's see, what else did I do this week? Oh, I spent almost all day Tuesday helping my brother pack orders for Light of Faith. But I took a break after lunch and went swimming with my nieces and nephews in their pool. I haven't been swimming (sitting in a kitty pool with my nieces and nephews a few years ago doesn't count) since I was probably 8 or 9. It was fun and very nice to cool off from the heat of the day.

     Today's story is especially for any young siblings. It's a short story, a retelling of a famous fable. I wrote it many years ago, and when I went to find something to post, I thought I'd do this story. I think we can all learn a lesson from it. Don't you?

 

The Race Won By Inches

 

            One beautifully sunny morning, Cecil Centipede stopped to laugh at Inez Inch Worm slowly inching himself along the ground.

            “Ha, ha!” he jeered. “You are so slow! You can’t even make it across the sidewalk before I have crossed it ten times! You are the pokiest, loiteringest, slowest insect I have ever seen!” He continued to taunt as Inez humped along.

            Now Inez was growing irritated because Cecil Centipede kept bugging him day after day about his speed. That morning was the last Inez Inch Worm could tolerate.

            “Would you like to race?” he questioned, pausing half way across the sidewalk.

            “Race!” Cecil howled with laughter. “You’re not just slow, you’re stupid too. Ha, ha! Sure I’ll race. I’ll be at the finish line before you have even started! Ho, ho!” Cecil accepted the race as a joke because he thought it would be no contest.

 

            Well, the race was planned. Spencer Spider and Anthony Ant were finally chosen to act as the judges, and the race course was carefully chosen. The day of the race was perfect, not too hot or too cold.

            “Racers, take your places!” Anthony Ant bellowed. “On your mark, get set, GO!”

            The race had begun! Right from the start Cecil Centipede took the lead; his hundred legs working so fast that the onlookers could scarcely see them. Inez Inch Worm was soon left in the dust, slowly but steadily humping his way along the track.

            Cecil was gloating to himself as he ran of how easy this race was when all of a sudden one of his legs became tangled with another, and before he could stop, he fell. There he lay, his hundred legs all hopelessly tangled in one great big knot! How he squirmed. How he wriggled. But the more frantically he tried to free them, the more impossibly tangled they became. He comforted himself, however, with the thought that Inez was so far behind that he would never catch up.

            Inching down the track, Inez spied the tangled legs of Cecil off to one side. He decided not to say anything, but continued on his way one inch at a time. Before long the finish line was reached and cheers erupted on all sides.

            “Inez Inch Worm wins the race!” shouted Spencer Spider. “Three cheers for the winner!”

The exuberant cheers reached the ears of Cecil Centipede just as he finally succeeded in freeing the last of his legs. He leaped to his feet and raced to the finish line.

            “I demand a re-race!” he shouted indignantly, but no one heard him.

 

            Thus it was that inch by inch Inez the Inch Worm won the now famous and much talked of race.

 

The End

Are you eager for me to finish "Lake Wood"?

Are you more like Inez or Cecil in the story?

Do you have younger siblings to read this story to?

Mary was a Little Lamb

No, Friday Fiction Fans, (If you are still around:)) this is not another poem about a lamb.:) This was my assignment for my online writing class which got read aloud to over 1,000 people.:0
I know, I'm still rather shocked that it happened. I did do the changes suggested by Mrs. Morecraft, so it sounds better. But still--!

I have been writing, some, but everything has been part of a longer thing and I'm having trouble getting my brain to work. Maybe it is the contest in the writing class that is causing the trouble.:} But tell me, how do you write a short story that is only 1,000 words long? I can do a children's story, but an older one? Hmm. Right now I'm trying to revise one of the scenes from my book. But I've read it so many times that I don't know if it sounds good anymore. *sigh*

I don't have much time now as I have other things I have to get done. What do YOU think of this story? It was based on a picture of Mrs. Morecraft's grand-daughter. Sorry, I can't show you the picture.

Mary was a Little Lamb
Rebekah Morris

Jane was lonely. This was the third day she had spent at Grandma and Grandpa’s, and now she was by herself. Grandpa was working on something in his study, and Grandma and Aunt Mercy were busy with some writing class that was coming up. Poor little Jane. Though she was only four, she had kept a smile on her face until she was outside. Now, however, her chin quivered and her lips trembled. Her big, bright blue eyes filled with tears. What could she do now that no one could play with her?
For several minutes she sat and cried softly. Not only was she lonely, she missed her Mommy and Daddy who had gone on a trip. If only she had someone or something to play with. Her sad thoughts were interrupted by a bleat.
Shaking back the mass of red curls which fell about her tearstained face and clustered on her neck, Jane wiped away the tears and looked up. The nearby rail fence was before her, but it was the ebony creature lying down, silhouetted against the lush summer grass growing behind the fence which caught her eye.
Skipping over to the fence Jane peered between the rails. Another bleat came from the black form and it stood up on wobbly legs. Jane gave an involuntary giggle, and the lamb, for so it was, turned to look at her. For several moments the young creatures gazed at each other in the bright sunshine while above their heads in the azure sky, small cream puffs of clouds danced and skipped in the breeze as though inviting the pair below to join them.
The lamb seemed to accept the invitation for it gave a little skip on its slender legs. Jane giggled. The lamb came closer making friendly little noises. In an instant Jane had climbed the rough rail fence and stood looking at the lamb. A smile wreathed her tearstained face. Here was a friend who could play with her! This lamb didn’t need to study or write and it certainly didn’t need to go on any trips. Reaching out a gentle hand, Jane stroked the wooly head. The lamb on its part nuzzled Jane’s skirt.
“Okay, little lamb,” Jane told it, “let’s play tag.” With a laugh Jane turned and danced away calling over her shoulder, “You’re it.”
Joyfully the lamb frolicked after Jane and butted her softly.
“Now I’m it! You have to run!”
And so the game continued, sometimes Jane chasing the lamb but more often than not, the lamb following Jane. At last both were worn out, and Jane sank to the grass to catch her breath. The lamb stood in front of her while Jane patted its dark coat. So intent were Jane and the lamb with each other, neither one noticed Grandma coming over with the camera.
“Are you having fun, Jane?”
Jane looked up and grinned. “Oh, Grandma! Mary can play tag with me! We love each other, don’t we?” Jane pulled the small thing close to her and kissed its nose. “Now I won’t ever be lonely again,” she added with a whisper in the little charcoal ear.
“Baa” answered the lamb and folding its legs up, laid its woolly head in Jane’s lap and closed its eyes.

Help Wanted

I need YOUR help. I am going to enter a writing contest but I want you to help me decide which version of the story I should enter. Here are a few things you must know first. The story had to be for children ages 3 - 8 and be no more than 500 words. I can not be a published author, nor be in the process of getting a book published. (I haven't even written it yet.) I can not have won any national writing contest (haven't even entered) and I have to be 18 or older. (I think I qualify there.) The story will be judged for the following criteria:

*Appropriate story/content for children 3 - 8
*Emotional connection
*Writing quality
*Uniqueness
*Read-aloud potential

And keep in mind that there are no pictures. If the story wins, it will be sent to a children's book publishing company. I think someone will do illustrations then.

Please read these stories with all this in mind and then vote accordingly. And please do this quickly as I have to enter the story soon. Thanks!

The Notched Stick
by Rebekah Morris

“What’s the matter, Robbie? Hard day at school?”
Robbie plopped down on the porch step. “Brian keeps picking on me, Grandpa, and I’m getting tired of it. He just won’t leave me alone.”
“I know a way to stop it.”
“Really! How?”
“Wait here a minute.” Grandpa stepped inside the house to return with a smooth, well polished walking stick.
“You want me to hit Brian with that?” Robbie was clearly puzzled.
Grandpa laughed. “No. Do you see these notches?”
“Yes, there are three of them.”
“My father told me it takes three things to make a bully into a friend, so he made notches reminding me.
“The first notch is for smiling. The next time Brian isn’t kind, smile at him and see what happens.”


“Grandpa! I did it. Brian was saying mean things, and I smiled at him!”
“What did he do?”
“He said I was crazy, but then he left me alone.”
“Good. The next notch means to praise him for something, like telling him how good he played, or how great his school project was.”
“But Brian isn’t good at anything.”
“Everyone is good at something. It may take a while, but you can find it if you really look. And keep smiling.”


“Go! Go!” The coach urged his soccer team. “You can do it!”
Robbie watched as Brian kicked the ball passed the goalie to win the game.
“Hey, Brian, you were great making that goal.”
Brian didn’t say anything, but he looked a little puzzled.


“Brian scored a goal today in soccer, Grandpa.”
“Did you praise him?”
Robbie nodded. “He didn’t say anything.”
“That’s okay. This last notch is to do something kind for him.”
“Like what?”
“I think you can find something to do for him. Little opportunities are always coming if you are ready for them. And don’t forget to keep praising and . . .”
“Smiling.”
“That’s right.”


Several days passed before Robbie found the chance to help Brian.
“I can’t find my crayons! I have to have them tonight for homework!” Brian’s grumble reached Robbie’s ears.
He thought a moment. He had extra crayons at home, but they weren’t the special new ones Mom had gotten him. He could let Brian use his new ones. But suppose they got broken? Robbie knew he wouldn’t be able to get more.
“Brian, would you like to borrow my crayons until we can find yours? I have some more at home.”
Brian looked surprised, then embarassed. “I don’t have any more crayons, and I didn’t know how I’d get the homework done. Thanks. And Robbie, I won’t be mean to you anymore. Can we be friends?”



“Grandpa! Grandpa! It worked!” Robbie ran panting up the porch steps. “It really worked. Brian and I are friends!”
“I am so glad, Robbie. And now, I want to give this stick to you so that you will always remember to--”
“Smile, praise and help.”
“That’s right.”
“I love you Grandpa.”

The Notched Stick #2

by Rebekah Morris

“What’s the matter, Robbie? Hard day at school?”
Robbie plopped down on the porch step. “Brian keeps picking on me, Grandpa, and I’m getting tired of it. He just won’t leave me alone.”
“I know a way to stop it.”
Robbie sat up quickly. “Really! How?”
“Wait here a minute.” Grandpa arose from the creaking porch swing and stepped inside the house to return with a smooth, well polished walking stick.
“You want me to hit Brian with that?” Robbie was clearly puzzled.
Grandpa laughed. “No. Do you see these notches?”
“Yes, there are three of them.”
“My father told me it takes three things to make a bully into a friend. Each of these notches is one thing.
“The first notch is for smiling. The next time Brian isn’t kind, smile at him and see what happens.”


“Grandpa! I did it. Brian was saying mean things, and I smiled at him!”
“What did he do?”
“He said I was crazy, but then he left me alone.”
“Good. The next notch means to praise him for something, like telling him how good he played, or how great his school project was.”
“But Brian isn’t good at anything.” Robbie gave a push which set the porch swing in motion.
“Everyone is good at something. It may take a while, but you can find it if you really look. And keep smiling.”


“Brian scored a goal today in soccer, Grandpa.”
“Did you praise him?”
Robbie nodded. “He didn’t say anything.”
“That’s okay. This last notch,” Grandpa rubbed his finger over the stick’s smooth surface, “is to do something kind for him.”
“Like what?”
“I think you can find something to do for him. Little opportunities are always coming if you are ready for them. And don’t forget to keep praising and . . .”
“Smiling.” Robbie answered grinning.


Several days passed before Robbie found the chance to help Brian.
“I can’t find my crayons! I have to have them tonight for homework!” Brian’s grumble reached Robbie’s ears.
He thought a moment. He had extra crayons at home, but they weren’t the special new ones Mom had gotten him. He could let Brian use his new ones. But suppose they got broken? Robbie knew he wouldn’t be able to get more.
“Brian, would you like to borrow my crayons until we can find yours? I have some more at home.”
Brian looked surprised, then embarrassed. “I don’t have any more crayons, and I didn’t know how I’d get the homework done. Thanks. And Robbie, I won’t be mean to you anymore. Can we be friends?”



The sun shone brightly on Robbie as he ran panting up the porch steps. “Grandpa! Grandpa!” Robbie’s face beamed with delight. “It worked! It really worked. Brian and I are friends!”
“I am so glad, Robbie. And now, I want to give you this stick so you’ll always remember to--”
“Smile, praise and help. I love you Grandpa.” And he gave him a big hug.

The Race Won By Inches

I know it is not Friday, but I'm not sure what I will be doing in the morning, so I thought I'd just go ahead and post this tonight. I guess that means that any of you who get on the computer late at night instead of early in the morning will get a chance to read it first.:) This was also a "writing assignment." But don't worry, it is not about elephants.:) Enjoy!

The Race Won By Inches
by Rebekah Morris

One beautifully sunny morning, Cecil Centipede stopped to laugh at Inez Inch Worm slowly inching himself along the ground.
“Ha, ha!” he jeered. “You are so slow! You can’t even make it across the sidewalk before I have crossed it ten times! You are the pokiest, loiteringest, slowest insect I have ever seen!” He continued to taunt as Inez humped along.
Now Inez was growing irritated because Cecil Centipede kept bugging him day after day about his speed. That morning was the last Inez Inch Worm could tolerate.
“Would you like to race?” he questioned, pausing half way across the sidewalk.
“Race!” Cecil howled with laughter. “You’re not just slow, you’re stupid too. Ha, ha! Sure I’ll race. I’ll be at the finish line before you have even started! Ho, ho!” Cecil acceped the race as a joke because he thought it would be no contest.
Well, the race was planned. Spencer Spider and Anthony Ant were finally chosen to act as the judges, and the race course was carefully chosen. The day of the race was perfect, not too hot or too cold.
“Racers, take your places!” Anthony Ant bellowed. “On your mark, get set, GO!”
The race had begun! Right from the start Cecil Centipede took the lead; his hundred legs working so fast that the onlookers could scarcely see them. Inez Inch Worm was soon left in the dust, slowly but steadily humping his way along the track.
Cecil was gloating to himself as he ran of how easy this race was when all of a sudden one of his legs became tangled with another, and before he could stop, he fell. There he lay, his hundred legs all hopelessly tangled in one great big knot! How he squirmed. How he wriggled. But the more frantically he tried to free them, the more impossibly tangled they became. He comforted himself, however, with the thought that Inez was so far behind that he would never catch up.
Inching down the track, Inez spied the tangled legs of Cecil off to one side. He decided not to say anything, but continued on his way one inch at a time. Before long the finish line was reached and cheers erupted on all sides.
“Inez Inch Worm wins the race!” shouted Spencer Spider. “Three cheers for the winner!”
The exuberant cheers reached the ears of Cecil Centipede just as he finally succeeded in freeing the last of his legs. He leaped to his feet and raced to the finish line.
“I demand a re-race!” he shouted indignantly, but no one heard him.
Thus it was that inch by inch Inez the Inch Worm won the now famous and much talked of race.

The End

Mr. Pickup's Problem

Friday is here again already. I don't know where the days go, but I seem to have misplaced a few. Has anyone seen any stray days hanging around? I was able to get something a little more interesting than a paragraph about elephants ready this time.:) This is a short children's story I wrote. I am looking for someone to draw some pictures for it. If anyone is interested, I'd love to see what you come up with. Perhaps someday I will publish it. Right now it will just sit in my notebook and in a file on the computer. But, if you got on here, it wasn't to read my ramblings, was it? Okay here is the story. Enjoy!

Mr. Pickup’s Problem
by Rebekah Morris

Once upon a time, in a small town somewhere in the world, lived a man. His name was Mr. Pickup. Now Mr. Pickup owned a small store in the center of town where he sold many useful and some not so useful things.

One morning as Mr. Pickup walked to his store, he stopped to look at someone moving into the the shop next door. He paused for a few minutes to watch the men working.
“Hmm,” he said to himself, “they seem to have the same things that I sell.”

All during that day, Mr. Pickup wondered about the store next door.

The next morning as Mr. Pickup walked to his store, he stopped and his eyes opened wide as he looked at the shop next to his. It had a large sign over the door which read: “Best Buy.”
“Oh no,” Mr. Pickup thought, “what can I do?”

All that day he thought about that store beside his and wondered what to do.

The next morning as Mr. Pickup walked to his store, he stopped, his eyes opened wide, and he whistled as he looked at someone else moving into the shop on the other side of his store. On looking closely, he realized that they too had the same things he sold in his store.
“Oh no! What am I going to do now? Mr. Pickup thought.
All that day he thought about the new store and wondered what to do about the sign on the first store.

The next morning as Mr. Pickup walked to his store, he stopped, his eyes opened wide, he whistled and shook his head as he looked at the new store. The new store had an even larger sign over it’s door which read: “Lowest Prices.”

All that day Mr. Pickup sat alone in his store and wondered what he could do about the first store. And he wondered what he could do about the second store. And he wondered what he could do about their signs. He thought and thought.

He was still thinking as he walked home to his house. He thought as he ate his dinner. He thought as he got into bed and turned out the light.
Suddenly, a wonderful idea came to him, and he bounced out of bed. Not waiting to get dressed, he ran out to his garage and started working. He worked hard.

In the morning Mr. Pickup walked to his store. He was earlier than he had ever been. He didn’t stop, his eyes didn’t open wide, he didn’t whistle and he didn’t shake his head, but he got out his ladder and put up his own sign. In letters larger than the other signs were the words: “Main Entrance.”
All that day Mr. Pickup didn’t have time to wonder and think about the two other stores. He was very busy all day long. Mr. Pickup had solved his problem.

The End