SNOWMAN

Each student in Rata was given a page from 'The Snowman" by Raymond Briggs to write about. They had to do it in five sentences and within the 43-47 word count. A focus was on using different sentence beginnings, lengths and structures.

The great depression

My younger brother  Henry lies next to me crying  himself to sleep, he misses

our mother. After she died I was glad it meant one less mouth to feed.

she was useless in the last few months of her life, unable to get a job  to help support our family, but if there were something I

miss about my mother it would be the scones she’d make for us when we had  enough flour and if we were lucky  she’d add dates or honey.

I wrap the blanket tight around his small body and  head out into  the dark.

Henry doesn't know where all our food comes from and won’t care as long as he doesn't have an empty stomach.

My feet is sore from the ground against my bare feet , but I guess i'm used to it. The  shanty’s  on  our street are close to each other, ours in the worst ,the top of our roof has a hole so when it rains water  leaks through, father meant to fix it but never had the time so we just put a bucket inside to catch the rain . He works long hours so I don't see him much, he leaves before I wake and even now with just the three of us we still can’t afford to buy the important things we need with his earnings. There’s a house to my left , one with a vegetable patch

and an apple tree. I  jump over  the fence and land in the moist dirt, my feet sinking  in  , I start pulling  vegetables out of ground as quick as I Can  and place them in my basket ,

A light flickers on from inside the house and i drop my basket in my attempt to escape, I see the silhouette  of someones body and  sink back against the tree hoping they didn't see my face,if i was caught i don’t know what would happen. The moment passes and the light flickers back off. That was close. I carefully sneak out from my hiding place from behind the tree and run over to my basket,the contents spilled over the dark dirt, i load them back into the basket and take a few apples, Henry will be pleased. I clamber back over the fence and run

not looking back.

Its morning by the time I get back , Henry's already dressed

“where have you been “ he asks.

“I just went out to get us some food “ I reply.

“okay” he says

We have the apples and some stale bread left over from the other week for breakfast,

the apples are juicy and sweet while the bread tastes dry in my mouth. We sit on the ground in silence while we eat.

“When you’re done why don’t you go and play with your friends’’  I suggested .

“I don’t have any friends” he says sadly .

I hug him tightly against my side.

“i’m your friend.” I whisper.

“Yes, but you don’t count, you’re my sister you have no

choice but to be my friend, cause you’re stuck with me.” he laughs.

“ Yes, that may be true but i chose to be your friend.” i state.

I don’t remember the last time we laughed , it feels odd

like it’s something we've done for the first time, and i think that maybe

there’s hope for us in all of this distress.

By Myfanwy Wong

The Great Deperssion

 THE GREAT DEPRESSION

Entering the house, I saw my son Richard starting to cry.As his tears started dripping down on his cheek, I asked him “what’s wrong” then he said  “its mum she’s just lying there on the ground”.

I rush to see what was wrong with her.Her face was pale, her last words were don't, let my son die with hunger, she was dead.Elizabeth I cried who's going to look after him.

Then richard said “i'm hungry”.I thought to myself where will I get some food for him.Then I realized there was a rich family who would eat many kinds of food so I decided to take a big decision and stole  their food.

While I was walking, I saw children,women,and men crying. They were wanting their home back and looking for food and water. They were also looking for their loved ones.  I had remembered that yesterday the depression had started. All the stock markets went down.I had got fired and had no money to pay for the medication for my wife. I kept on thinking that its all my fault that she passed away.

then I just realized that I had just had met my distance I saw the house and luckily a window was open. There was heaps of food on the table I got a bit  of  food on the table and ran for my life.

But when I went back to my son, he was still crying I gave him the food then I realized that my house was torned down in front of my eyes.I was thinking what's going to happen where are we going to live were homeless.so we both found a dusty, muddy and duscuting spot and made a tent to live in out of rags ,cardboard,mealt and other bits and peices.

The next morning I told my son that I had to go to a factory to make a little bit of money for us.Then Richard said whos going to look after me.But as he was talking I told him that now you will just have to look after yourself, and stay in the tent until I come back to the tent ok.And no going out. But what if i'm hungry what will I eat well son we have no food we will just have to wait for the government to give us some coupons for food but as I was talking to my son I felt guilty because it kept on haunting me that I had to stolen food from others.

Then I said to Richard I need to go now if I don't you and I will starve and die or worse  could happen to us.So i hugged Richard shut the tent door and left. as I was walking to the factory I noticed all the grey clouds

and then I thought that this depression will be the longest and the most horrible

time of everyone's life.

But just then I saw the factory and as I in walked I saw many of people sweating and were desperate for money and for their loved ones.But on top of that I felt disgusted of the condition we all had to work in.From a place where there was a fan a more and now on fan,and noting we just

smelled all sorts of gases and toxic fumes.A time I had everything and now nothing but as I was thinking of that, one man next to me said to me it was ok and told me not to  worry everything will be fine

but when it was time to go home I counted how much money I got but barely enough to make a loaf of bread. but as I went home well I mean the horrible place I live now my son was just crying and crying   had hugged him again

and I thought quietly to myself how did all this happen nearly everyone  in the world have lost someone or the work and  now must be suffering.

By Neelisha Kumar

Clyde Quay School  

MaxyGirls and Tomalina

we have been working on finding a renewable energy source so we thought of solar panels they can stop the worlds pollution

Her trip

What she used to do

This was the

bus she took every morning,

this was the

time,

when the sun

danced over head,

flames on a cold winters day

the icy cold wind would plummet past her.

She used to poke

her head into the bus

and turn

left and right

to the bus driver she would whisper

her destination

carefully counting her money

making sure not to drop a single penny,

the bus driver would receive his payment.

She would walk head bent low

to the nearest lonesome seat she would go,

she used to sit

back rigid.

As the bus would fill

with others

the smell of gas would

overwhelm her

a symphony of voices

used to surround her from all angles

as she was the first on

she was the last off at the last stop

And so it happens

that I make this trip

each and everyday

just as she did

By Anjali

Horse

Horse

The sun shimmered

Reflecting all my steps.

The lush green grass danced,

The tall trees swayed.

My brown hooves

Plodded through the clear icy water.

The crumbling bank was falling in,

I trotted

To the edge of the bank.

The lush green grass danced,

Chomp.

I kept walking,

The clear icy water got higher.

Suddenly,

The water was too high.

I climbed up the bank.

I galloped for miles.

Then,

I see a slip.

I gallop

Up,

Up,

Up.

The soil gives way

Below me.

I hear stones

Crumble to the ground.

As I reach the top

I see,

A paddock

Full of lush green grass.

I eat,

And eat,

And eat

Until the sun sets.

I close my eyes,

And Everything goes black.

The change I made

The change I made

My name is Silvia. I am now 20 years old. I’ve always believed that it is unfair that men are able to vote and work yet women can’t. This is my story about how I helped to change that.

Gender equality first sparked my interest in 1891, when I was 13 years old. My mother bought home a pamphlet which she had acquired while buying the groceries. The pamphlet written by Mary Ann Muller called “An appeal to the men of New Zealand” She thought that by allowing women to vote and work it would contribute to the nation. Kate Sheppard was a well known for her work on women's rights. Mary Ann Muller and Kate Sheppard had similar views on this point. After reading the pamphlet I decided that I was going to be part of the group fighting for women’s rights. I joined  The Women's Temperance Union. My mother, aunties and grandmothers did a lot of work there. The temperance union was dedicated to many things, women being able to vote was one of them. I joined the team that was solely dedicated to women’s rights .

When I joined, it was a very busy time at the temperance union because the union was preparing for a petition to be sent to parliament. I instantly signed it. Unfortunately the petition was unsuccessful because the Union didn’t get enough signatures. At least we managed to convince John Ballance, the Premier at the time and a few other politicians.   

This motivated us to get more signatures. The union had a meeting to work out ideas on how we were going to accomplish our goal. We knew we would have to start collecting signatures right away. We broke up into groups and I lead a team that was made up of high school girls. Everyday after school we would go door knocking with either a parent or one of my relatives who were really supportive of women rights. Each day we went to a different neighbourhoods. Sometimes it was easy to get signatures but at other times we had to explain why it was important for women to be able to vote. People would sometimes just slam the doors on us when we asked which I found just rude but   The union leaders were very happy with the work that my high school group was doing as I was the youngest member of the Union.  Soon my friends from the “high school group” joined the Union. Over the time that we collected signatures we became close friends.

I would go to all of Kate Sheppard’s speeches and was deeply inspired by her passion and the way in which she described a better future for women and New Zealand. One of Kate Sheppard’s famous quotes and my favourite is, “All that separates, whether of race, class, creed, or sex, is inhuman and must overcome.” I used this quote when collecting signatures. In addition to my school work we published articles in newspapers, on pamphlets and on signs about the petition. I loved the work I did with the Union. My dream was for the work of temperance union to pay off.

The next year, 1892, we sent another petition to the parliament, this time bigger but it still failed and women were still unable to vote.

The next year we worked even harder, making more pamphlets and not just about the petitions this time. There were pamphlets handed out at Kate Sheppard’s speeches while women with petition sheets roamed around collecting signatures. I remember this day in particular because it was a fine day. Kate Sheppard was giving one of her amazing speeches at the Wellington harbour the smell of salt was overwhelming and sea spray showered us. That day we  collected lots of signatures probably over two hundred signatures.

We sent a larger petition to parliament, and we were…

Successful! After receiving the good news we set to work on getting as many women as we could to vote because the union leaders and Kate Sheppard didn’t think that the parliament would advertise that women were able to vote and the elections were just around the corner. Despite little notice two thirds of women turned up. We were very happy that year.

I decided that I would work on more of the rights  that women deserve  such as being able to work. This is the change that I made.

The May Robertson Poem

The May Robertson Poem

May Robertson is a

flaming red hot fire that’s

spreading rapidly along a

motorway destroying everything in it’s path.

May Robertson is a

boiled red tomato

in a bubbly spa pool.

Whenever I take the wrong path

I hear May Robertson

shrieking back at me

It’s spine chilling!

May Robertson is a

deadly dragon puffing out

black deadly jets of fire

that would burn you to death.

May Robertson is a

junior sock abandoned

under the bed without

it’s partner 3 months ago.

May Robertson is

boiling water on bonedry

sandpaper mouths.

By May!

Hard Times

Hard Times

March 1931

It has been 2 weeks since my husband, Bruce, was shipped to Nelson with a group of other men to get money for their families. So I am staying here in Wellington with seven demanding children trying to keep the house and survive. It’s hard with the kids; they are a real handful, always jumping around and always hungry which is a shame seeming we don’t have enough food to make a sustainable meal for each of us.

April 1931

It has now been 6 weeks since Bruce left, yet - he has no money for us yet. The kids are getting bigger and I need to mend their clothes.

May 1931

Eight weeks have past since my darling husband left. I made new clothes for the kids.

I’m sorry but it pains me to say but I have started stealing. I stole wool from the wool shop and food from the market. Me and my friends have been begging for money on the streets and my life is going down hill. I miss Bruce and hope he comes back soon.

June 1931

I received good news in the mail today. Bruce said he was coming home in September. My face instantly lit up. Looking in the envelope again I saw some money that would last for about a month.

When my children got home I told them that we were eating properly tonight. They were thrilled and that night I read them the note. We decided to write back and this is what we wrote:

Dear Bruce

We all miss you and can’t wait till you come back. The children and I are very grateful for the money. Little Bobby lost his first tooth today and Margaret learnt how to ride her bike  Tony is learning piano at the church, Dorothy broke her arm but is ok. Malcolm has got a job ringing the bells at church. Roger wants to play the violin but we have no money. Heather is singing all the time. I found out that I am 5 months pregnant.

Love you always,

from Anne, Margaret, Tony, Dorothy, Roger, Malcom and Little Bobby

August 1931

I woke up to the sound of glass shattering and people yelling. At the window, I saw a riot going on. Everyone was screaming outside. It was havoc. All of a sudden Little Bobby started crying; the riot must of woken him up. Bruce is back tomorrow.  

September 1931

Bruce came back 5 days ago. He brought enough money to last us a while, but with the always-hungry children it will most likely be gone in the next week. We had an argument the other night about him leaving again. He said he was departing in a few days but will come back soon.

By Isabel Hutton,

Clyde Quay School, Year 8

Isabel@clydequay.school.nz  

Alison's diary

Alison’s Diary

                                         

10 October 1918

I have started this diary because my teacher told me it will improve my writing skills.

Also I would like to tell my feelings to someone, (even if that someone is a black, leather bound book that I spent my half penny on.)

12 October 1918

Today my father's ship the Niagara finally arrived.  I hardly recognised him for I have not seen him since he left when I was six.  Mother says not to talk to him about what the war was like.  Though she does not give the reason.  Our Prime Minister was also on the boat.  Father says he is very glad to be ashore, for many of the sailors and passengers were ill.  Most of the evening, we all sat around the fire, talking about all that happened in Devonport while he was away.    

18 October 1918

Father has fallen ill.  This morning he was unable to breathe well.  By evening he looked so pale mother called Doctor Hillsborne.  Father protested saying he was fine but he may as well have been saying that pigs can fly.  The doctor left a poultice to place on father’s chest, and said he had visited two other returning soldiers today.  Mother did not cook tonight, and did not let us see father.  I made jam and bread for John and I and we went to bed early.  I am writing this under the bedclothes.

.      

28 October 1918

Father has been very ill all week.  I have been doing all the work of the house when I come home from school as Mother spends all her time with him.  I have had no time to write in my diary.  Today Bertie was coughing in class and sent home by Mrs Guthrie.  Ten others in the school have become ill.  

5 November 1918

Father was taken taken to hospital yesterday.  Mother looks very weak. This morning we had news that the school has been closed as half the students and teachers have fallen ill.  John and I do not know what to do with ourselves.  I am writing and he is reading.  Now he is trying to read over my shoulder which I find aggravating!  Time to search the cupboard for something to eat, I have put mother to bed and she did not argue.

8 November 1918

At midday, Bertie’s aunt came around with the terrible news that Bertie has died.  She said she had been worried, as she had not seen mother for days and they are very good friends.  When she saw that Mother was ill she immediately took us to her house and fed us. I am worried about our food stocks. All that is left is one loaf of bread, 2 apples and a bottle of milk, luckily, the chickens keep supplying us with 4 eggs a day so we won’t starve. I can’t stop thinking about poor Bertie and Father.

9 November 1918

Little John is getting very worried with having to stay away from mother. I have started coughing and am too weak to write munc. Will try tomorrow.

By Mille Rea

Clyde Quay School, Year 7

millie@clydequay.school.nz  

Returned

                                Returned

The dock was bustling with so many people on the grey Devonport day that I could hardly recognize it. I pushed through the crowd till I was standing in a place where I could actually see. Across the waves a huge ship was making its way through the harbor, the crowd let out a cheer. I did not join in for I resented the navy for taking my father away and not bringing him home safely.

I glanced at my mother who was holding little John and staring at the ship that had now docked. We had not received father’s weekly letters for more than a month now and we were afraid - afraid that we had lost him. Out of hope we had come to see the sailors return.       

The band struck up and played a victorious tune as the gang plank was lowered. I scanned the deck of the ship for the tall, grinning man who stood proud in the photo on the mantelpiece back at home. A man in a dark green uniform with three medals pinned to his chest waved a hand for silence, and started a long speech about the brave sailors who had returned home from fighting the Japanese.  I wasn’t listening and noticed that mother was doing the same, while also stopping little John from playing with the shoelaces belonging to the lady next to us. Finally, the speech ended and the soldiers marched down the gangplank  to join the families they had not seen in years. Someone tugged my hand and mother led me and carried John through the crowd with a desperate look on her face that I had never seen her wear before.

After half an hour of searching, it was me leading mother through the crowd with a screaming baby in her arms. She did not resist or talk and I knew she had given up. There was only one place left to look unless we had just missed him by chance. I stomped up the gangplank, determined. “Maybe we shouldn’t…” Mother tried to pull me back. “We have to!” I cried. “We didn’t  receive the letter saying he’s dead, and we looked everywhere down there.” I gestured to the the still crowded port. “But he could be on the ship.” Mother still looked uneasy but hope was creeping into eyes as she let me take her onto the deck. Walking ‘round the deck, we saw a man in a dark green uniform with three medals pinned to his chest. When he saw us he gave us a stare that told us we shouldn't have been there but I said in the boldest voice I could muster “Do you know where a man called Frank Willfer is?” He looked uneasy but said “Ah, Willfer eh. He yer father?” I nodded. “I have no idea of his whereabouts.”

Mother had completely given up hope. He was dead and gone. John did everything he could think of to cheer her up but he didn’t even understand what the matter was. I was upset too. I didn’t have many memories of him, but it still felt as if something had been torn away from me.

We turned to go.  The crowd had departed.  Families leaving, whole families. Whole happy families. “Coming through, make way please!” A voice appeared behind us.

A man wrapped in bandages was lying on a small  stretcher, asleep. As soon as mother saw him she threw her arms around him, squashing John in the process. Stopping, the stretcher carriers stared at my mother. The man woke up groggily then cried “Helen?” Then looked at me and John. “Alison! Johny!” I threw my arms around my father.

By Millie Rea