Mrs. Norton's Class Writes about Special Gifts

 
Submitted by krista.openshaw on Thu, 01/13/2022 - 08:23
If I were a gift, I would be rain. Rain washes earth's sins away and gives it life. If I were a gift, I would give it to my family because it could wash away all the tears that have been shed because my grandpa died. If I were a gift I would be rain so it would wash the bad away in the world. If I were a gift, I would be rain
If I were a gift, I would be health. Health is good to have to stay healthy. If you don't stay healthy you will be sad and not happy. I would give health to my dad, because he is struggling right now. I would give health to my dad so he can get healthy and strong. If I were a gift, I would be health. I would be health so the world would be healthy and not get sick as much. If everyone was healthy there would be no Covid. If I were a gift, I would be health.
If I were a gift, I would be a miracle. A Miracle is something that helps you, mostly when you're going through a hard time. I would give a miracle to my grandma because she is in a care center with memory loss and can't even remember her family. That's why I would give a miracle to her. If I were a gift, I would be a miracle. I would be a miracle so the world wouldn't be such a dark place and give hope to those in need and to help other brighten their day. If I were a gift, I would be a miracle.

After break Mrs. Norton's class talked about personal goals, resolutions and things they could do to help others. Then they took the idea of helping others and turned it into a form of poetry by writing “If I Were A Gift”. Students choose a gift they would like to give and in the first stanza they define their gift. In the second stanza they say how their gift could help someone close to them and in the last stanza they say how their gift could help the world. It’s such a great way for kids to think outside themselves and to think of ways they really can make a difference this year without monetary items. Here’s an example of some of the finished poems