Finola wrote a lovely true story for her first English assignment of the year. With her permission I am putting it on my blog. I will be dividing it into three parts over the next few days.
This is her first draft, I like her writing in it's raw form, so this is how I am going to put it out there.
One more note, of course E's name has been changed.
Finola's Story Part 1:
One of the most influential experiences of my life ran its course in four warm months. Who knew one eleven month old baby could teach me so much about life. My family's first foster baby came to us in May of 2011, smiling and unknowing of the impact he would leave within my heart and mind. How could a baby teach a teenage girl about life, you may ask? Well, let me explain.
Brody was placed in our house as a seven and a half month old baby in the month of May. I was still in school so I would see him when I got home, but I didn't spend very much time with him since I had homework to do. Brody was just an extra something in my life at that point, I would have walk up the hallway to my bedroom more quietly so I wouldn't wake him up, and play my music softly in my room because my room was right next to his. I saw him at dinner and in the morning, but no real bonding was happening between us. I was glad because I was afraid to get attached to him because I didn't want to get hurt, he was, after all impermanent; his grandmother was trying to gain custody of him so he could grow up with his family.
Summer soon came in June and I found myself at home a lot, as well as spending more time with little Brody. I would hang out with him in the living room, feed him cheerios, and watch as he played with his little colorful toys on the floor and banged on his toy drum. I think he'll be a musician some day. Without even noticing, an attachment was being formed. As the family watched Brody grow, June turned into July.