my guest, grae...

so grae writes a little essay every week, and they're usually pretty wonderful.

both she and lill have been listening when i tell them not to write with their thesaurus, but with their hearts. their teachers may not agree, but i feel like semi-colons and past participles are organic. they'll come when they come.




in my little opinion, learning to write exactly what you mean to communicate is king. and if you think you shouldn't say it, that usually means you should. this is a difficult concept for a fifth grader, but grae's killing these essays in terms of content.

anyway. grae's topic this week was to write about the most beautiful thing she's ever seen. here it is...

There is a grand mirror standing right smack in the middle of my room, exposing my bed, closet, desk and my dog’s crate. I love my mirror. If you know me, you know that I am very much full of myself, and that I definitely overuse my wonderful mirror. Every day, I sit in front of that mirror and stare at my surroundings behind me: my clock, my favorite stuffed animals, and Lillie‘s bed. It‘s always unmade, which isn't a surprise if you know Lillie. Of course, I stare at myself the most, but there is always something pretty beautiful in my room: my little sister, Esmé.

Esmé imitates my every move, and she loves most everything I do. She will do anything to please me, and even calls herself my twin. From the minute I met that kid, we have shared a really special relationship. When she was brand new, my mom begged me to work my magic and put her to sleep. All I had to do was hold her.

Sometimes, though, she can be bit of a handful. Like when she tells a complete stranger a family secret or a secret about THEM that she has heard from me or my other sister, Lillie. That is never a good happening. When she gets embarrassed in public, she occasionally kicks and bites the closest person to her, which is usually me. I‘ve learned to run when I see her start to feel uncomfortable.

But when she looks into my eyes and earnestly whispers, “I’m really sorry,” it’s just too hard to be mad at her. The only thing I can do is accept her apology and we just go on being twins.

Just yesterday, Esmé asked for someone to get her some tuna. She meant me. Well, Lillie made her some tuna instead because she was holding the can opener. Lillie loves the can opener, and I'm okay with that because I can't really see a way for her to cut herself open. I still don't let her near the mandolin, though.

Esmé simply made a disgusted face and said, “Lullie! Ewww! I don’t want Lullie’s stinky hands making dis!” So I lovingly prepared her tuna, and set it in front of her.

“Who made dis?” she questioned rudely.

“I did.” I replied nicely.

There was silence, then she mumbled just a simple, “Oh, ok.”

Lillie, as you can imagine, was offended for a second, then she went back to her careless self. This is what happens every day.

As you can already tell, Esmé favors me and I can get her to do absolutely anything. Esmé is very funny and she is like me in most every way, except for the fact that I sadly can’t cut my own hair like she does. Don’t tell her, but I am actually glad that I won’t try to cut my own hair! I’ve seen how bad it can turn out. After the last scissor incident, my mom had to take Esmé to the salon and basically get her a boy’s short haircut. We all told her she looked like Tinkerbell, but I think we all meant Peter Pan.

Esmé is seriously the most beautiful and most interesting person I have ever met or seen. The next time I look in my mirror, I will not just stare at silly objects in my room, but I will focus on my awesomely amazing sister, Esmé, more than I normally would. She will only be five once, right?

this took her about fifteen minutes to write. amazing. also, she makes lillie sound more hapless than she usually is, which makes the writer in me giggle more than the mom in me.

before grae printed this, she asked me to "fatten it up with some metaphors and similes and stuff." i said no. it was perfect, as is. i don't know. i probably shouldn't have posted this without grae-girl's permission, but i just wanted to save it. and you know i'm a crap scrapbooker.

Pins from here, here, here, and here.