Assignment: Look at the children in the picture below. Imagine you are one of them and write a paragraph or two in the first person. Layman’s terms, write the paragraph as if you are the child speaking. Re-write the paragraph in the third person; write it about the same child.
(I struggled all day long to write this from a child’s point of view. I instead wrote from the photographer’s point of view.)
(photo courtesy of Beaverton Historical Society)
First Person:
The mound in the corner caught my eye. On second glance, I realized that they were children, alone in the bus depot. Compassion rained from my eyes, the dam I’d been struggling to hold back had burst. It took everything within me to hold back from smothering them in my arms. From a brief chat with the bus driver, I learned of their story. Orphaned a month before, a distant relative had stepped in long enough to keep their pittance of an inheritance and send them off to this unknown little town. These 6 weary eyes showed pain and hurt so deep that I just couldn’t leave them there. I found myself stepping forward and offering them a hot meal and a warm, cozy place to stay for awhile, if not forever. Grubby hands clasped tight, the children followed me from the depot.
I asked them if chicken fingers and fries would be a welcoming meal. Three pairs of eyes flickered at the same time. Once their tummies were full, a long, hot bath for each of them would be required. Our first stop, though, would be ice cream. As we strolled along the boardwalk, I heard that magical tinkle. The boy giggled. It was contagious, as soon his companions were all giggling, then laughing. I could only join with them in their delight. Pulling out my camera, I stopped and turn. I needed to capture this moment now, freeze it for all time. It was unbelievable that these were the same children I first met in the bus station only moments before. They were smiling.
Third Person:
Rushing through the bus depot, the woman almost missed the mound in the corner. As her steps slowed, she realized that it was something, but three someones. Children were huddled together, and seemingly alone. She approached a bus driver. The children’s sad story came out. They were orphaned, then robbed of their meager inheritance by a relative. His only concern was to distance himself from them even further, and he sent them away. The woman approached the children, with hope that they wouldn’t be frightened anymore. For some unexplainable reason, she found her heart warming up to the children. These nameless faces had already impacted her soul. She offered them a food and shelter, at least for awhile, if not forever. With grubby hands clasped tight, the children followed the woman from the depot.
The woman promised chicken fingers and fries for their evening meal. The children’s eyes all flickered at the same time with expectancy. Once their tummies were full, long hot baths would be in order. The first stop, however, was the ice cream parlor. Strolling along the boardwalk, the woman heard a magical tinkle. The boy giggle. It was contagious; soon his companions were all giggling, then laughing. The woman was drawn into their delight too. She pulled out her camera, wanting to capture this moment forever. She could hardly believe that these were the same children she’d met only moments before. They were smiling.
