Showing posts with label Ashley Jones. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ashley Jones. Show all posts

Thursday, May 12, 2016

Maybe Someday


Maybe Someday
by
Ashley Jones
(age 18)


     Grand, flowing music began to play as the movie credits scrolled down the television screen. My sister sighed as she continued to stare up at the screen.
     “Disney World,” she whispered dreamily.
     “I wish we could go,” I absently replied.
     We had watched the Disney World tour on DVD countless times over the past few months. Each time my eyes were glued to the television displaying colorful gardens, unique rides, and the iconic castle. Everything seemed so extravagant and over-the-top to me. The tour promised the whole park experience to be “magical” and “a dream come true.” My sister and I believed every word.
     I stood up and opened the DVD player.
     “Maybe someday, Kayla,” I tried to assure her as I placed the DVD in its now-worn case.
     “Yeah maybe,” she replied. “Do you wanna play in the snow?”
     “Sure, let's build a snow fort.” I called as we rushed to put on our snow suits.
   
*          *          *

     The next few weeks were filled with Christmas preparations: decorating, caroling, and cookie baking. The Disney DVD was set aside as we filled our afternoons with “Frosty the Snowman” and “A Christmas Carol” instead.

*          *          *

     Finally Christmas morning arrived. Our house overflowed with laughter, savory breakfast smells, and thank you's being shouted across the room. Our grandparents came and added to the gifts already under the twinkling tree. We all had so much fun opening and passing around presents to each other. Wrapping paper littered every inch of the floor. We took time to pick up the pieces to reveal the gifts already opened piled underneath. I didn't want to put down my new American Girl doll to be much help, though. The morning passed by in a blur until my sister and I were given the last two gifts from beneath the  Christmas tree. With anticipation we carefully tore the red and green paper. Big smiles lit  our faces as we each held a large jar decorated with Mickey Mouse stickers and filled to the top with mini Hershey bars and gummy Lifesavers.
     “Yummy,” Kayla shouted with a mischievous grin on her face.
     “Don't eat any yet, Kayla,” I scolded. “There's a note here.”
     The envelope instructed me to read the note out loud for everyone to hear. Tears began to trickle down my face as the realization of the words began to sink in:

     Dear Ashley and Kayla,
This candy is meant to be eaten one piece each day. 
Once you reach the bottom of the jar, we will all be going to Florida. 
We will spend a week of fun at Disney World. 
Merry Christmas!
And remember, only eat one piece of candy a day.
Love,
Grammie & Grampa

     My sister jumped up and down with the excitement, and we hugged each other. We ran over
to my grandparents.
     “We're going to Disney World,” I whispered as we engulfed them in a hug.

*          *          *


     We watched the Disney DVD many more times before our own “magical” vacation. Today, it still sits in the same spot on the shelf lined with movies, forever reminding me of that special Christmas long ago.


(assignment for Lesson #20 - autobiography)


If you are between the ages of 12-18,
(or know someone who likes to write stories)
I would like to post your story here.
Send me an email. I'd love to read your story!

Tuesday, May 3, 2016

Living Faith




Living Faith
by
Ashley Jones
(age 17)

    Meredith (Merry)Tilden Jones was born on August 24, 1942. He was the youngest of five children, including a twin brother. He grew up in a Christian home in a rural area of Maine. Grampa was a faithful member of Bible Baptist Church of Wiscasset for many years. He took great joy in teaching Sunday School and helping wherever needed. He worked at Bath Iron Works for around thirty years until he retired to play golf and spend time with his family. He was always proud of his four children and growing number of grandchildren.

     The love of God radiated from the life of my Grandpa. Whether he was playing with his grandchildren, golfing, or greeting people at church, he always had a smile on his face. Hard times plagued his body physically, yet he never once wavered in his faith. Cancer brought a hard blow to him, but his God always remained bigger than the circumstances in his life. Even though he couldn't play as much golf as he would have liked or do as much as he could before, he never let that dampen his spirits.

     Until the day of his death he remained a faithful soldier of the Lord. The wisdom that he shared impacted the lives of many people. His love will remain ingrained for a lifetime in the hearts of those he touched. Right now he is enjoying his eternal reward. He will never be forgotten.


“Grampa Jones” 1942-2014

(Assignment for Lesson #19 - Biography)

If you are between the ages of 12-18,
(or know someone who likes to write stories)
I would like to post your story here.
Send me an email. I'd love to read your story!

Thursday, April 21, 2016

Easter in Bryant Pond











Easter in Bryant Pond
by Ashley Jones, (age 17)


 This past week millions of people
 around the world celebrated Easter
 in some way. Easter eggs hunts, 
Son-Rise services, and ham dinners 
have always popular during this one 
Sunday each year. In Bryant Pond, 
the little country church had their own
 special way to celebrate the risen Lord.

 The congregation's day started 
promptly at 8:30 a.m. They had 
been passing out “Resurrection 
Sunday” invitations around town 
for weeks. As each person entered
 the fellowship area, they added 
another delicious dish to the already
 full table. The long food table con-
tained everything from quiche to 
pancakes, to muffins, fruit, juices, 
and coffee. Every person found a 
place with friends at one of the round
 tables spread throughout the room.

  After an enjoyable breakfast,
 everyone young and old gathered
 in the sanctuary for a family-
oriented Sunday School lesson. 
At 10:30, their morning worship 
service began. The singing of “He 
Lives” filled the building with an 
air of joy and gladness. The choir 
sang a touching arrangement of 
“I Have Decided to Follow Jesus.” 
A powerful sermon was  preached 
by Pastor Matthew Jones entitled 
“The First Resurrection.” 

God's people again gathered for their 
6:00 evening  service for more 
singing, preaching, and fellow-
shipping. It was a highly antici-
pated day filled with celebration 
of the Lord's resurrection.



(Assignment for Lesson #18 - News Journalism)


If you are between the ages of 12-18,
(or know someone who likes to write stories)
I would like to post your story here.
Send me an email. I'd love to read your story!

Saturday, March 12, 2016

Three Weeks





Three Weeks
by
Ashley Jones
 (age 17)


     As the doctor pulled the door shut behind him, I finally allowed the tears to fall. Our little boy, Danny, looked dwarfed in the big hospital bed with teddy bears surrounding him. He was only three years old. He should have been running around and getting himself into mischief, but instead he lay silently in the bed, hooked up to more machines than I even knew was possible.

     It seemed as if the doctor could only give bad news in the past few weeks, but I truly didn't think it could get any worse. I held Danny's limp hand as I reminisced about his short life.

     Justin and I had prayed for two years for a child. God truly blessed us when He sent our son. Danny had always been such a sweet child and healthy, too, for the most part.

     I thought my heart would be ripped apart, though, when he was diagnosed with aggressive leukemia when he was two-and-a-half. The doctor would shake his head with a furrowed brow, but Justin and I prayed. We had faith that God could heal our son.

     Several different treatments were attempted, but Danny seemed to worsen by the week. I spent many hours just clutching him close to my chest as I prayed. When the big test was approaching, we enlisted our church family and everyone we knew to pray for good results.

     The doctor tried to break the news softly, but I almost couldn't breathe as I tried to hold back the tears. Danny had three weeks to live. A mere three weeks. I didn't know how I could possibly let go of my precious child. God seemed so distant.
*     *     *

     It is hard to believe that nearly four years have passed since that heart-wrenching day. Justin and I choose not to grieve over what Danny could have been. Today we rejoice over what Danny is- a healthy and spirited little boy. To this day, we don't know how God managed to pull through. The only thing that matters is that He did. Danny is running, playing, AND getting into mischief every day now. Recovery took a while, but he is as strong as ever. He has a little sister now who joins him swinging in the backyard and building with blocks. Danny was days away from losing his life, but now he has many exciting years ahead of him. As he continues to grow and learn, I find myself often wondering what Danny will be in the days to come.

(assignment for Lesson #16)


If you are between the ages of 12-18,
(or know someone who likes to write stories)
I would like to post your story here.
Send me an email. I'd love to read your story!

Saturday, March 5, 2016

Nobody Eats Lobster



Nobody Eats Lobster
by 
Ashley Jones
(age 17)


     It all started with a dare-a terrible, disgusting dare. I closed my eyes tightly as I slid the fork into my mouth. I had no idea what I had gotten myself into.
*  *  *  *
     Living on the coasts of Maine isn't always easy. That year had been especially tough, though. Food crops weren't growing like they should, and prices of equipment continued to rise. To make up for the lost corn, I took up fishing to provide some extra food for my family. My buddy had the same problem, so we decided to team up. We had only one week to spend on the ocean. I thought it might be good for us to get away from the rows of wilting corn stalks. So off we set in my boat. It was really more like a dinghy, but it served the purpose well. With a fresh coat of paint and a new set of oars, we set sail.
     The first few days were disappointing. We each only caught a couple of mackerel to bring home for supper. We didn't know how we would possibly feed our families this winter. The next few days were equally as bad. Finally, on the last day, we knew something had to change.
     My buddy jokingly pointed to something in a shallow pool. Nobody eats lobsters! Thoughts of the creature with the big claws, flapping tail, and long feelers made me shiver. We laughed back and forth a little bit until it happened. I got dared. So, I did the only thing I could do and dared him back. Now that we were both in the same "boat", my buddy didn't look too jolly anymore. We were going to try eating a lobster. It wasn't very hard for us to each grab one, they were all over the ocean floor. I tossed mine to the shore as it tried to grab my shirt. I turned around when I heard a yelp. I couldn't help but laugh at the poor lobster clinging to Joe's hand. After they were untangled, we headed back to my home.
     It was Joe who suggested that we drop the creatures into boiling water. He thought it was more humane than chopping off their heads. After several minutes in the water, the lobsters started to turn a reddish color. That is when we decided they were done. We didn't have the least idea how to eat those foolish things. It took practically every tool in my shed to get them cracked open. Finally the steaming pink and white meat lay on a plate before us. I wasn't even hungry anymore. But when Joe picked up his fork, I reluctantly did too. I slid a small amount of the meat onto my fork. I closed my eyes tightly as I slid the fork into my mouth. I didn't gag, but continued chewing.
     Looking over at Joe, he was smiling away as he shoved another heaping forkful into his mouth. I got up and opened the ice-box. It needed something. My wife always chides me for putting butter on everything, but I put some in a pot and waited for it to melt anyway. I dumped some on the meat and offered some to Joe who eagerly accepted. Before ten minutes were up, both of our plates were clear, washed, and put away. Joe and I practically danced around the room. Back to the shores we went. Probably the horses thought we were crazy as we sang at the top of our lungs during the short wagon ride. Our families would have plenty to eat that night.
     That is the story of how my buddy and I found a new love. Every year after that, we always had enough food to feed the whole county. Just imagine, it all started with a dare.



(assignment for Lesson #15)



If you are between the ages of 12-18,
(or know someone who likes to write stories)
I would like to post your story here.
Send me an email. I'd love to read your story!

Saturday, January 23, 2016

Teen Extreme Camp



TEEN EXTREME CAMP
by
Ashley Jones
(age 17)

       The day of Teen Extreme Camp had finally arrived. It was the day we had been working for and dreaming about since we learned about it- the day we had been waiting for for about six months. That day started early-  1:00 A.M. to be exact.

     There were seven of us embarking on the trip - two chaperones and five teens. We gathered together in the church parking lot with suitcases and carry-ons and prayed a prayer of praise. We were ready to go. The excitement could be felt as we piled into the van.

     We rode, for what seemed an eternity, all the way to Boston. There we entered the airport, a really big airport with people everywhere! We all stayed as close together as we could (so we wouldn't get lost.) It wasn't too hard though, with our hot pink shirts that had our group name on the front and had our own names on the back. Numerous people mentioned our attire and lots of eyes were on us as we walked through the airport. We really stood out!

     Although we had to be split up on the first plane, the flight went well. We had just enough time in Texas for a quick lunch from Subway, and then we were in the air once again. Because of a random act of kindness from a stranger, we all were able to sit together that time. Before we knew it, we had landed in sunny Pensacola, Florida. Each of us were thrilled as we made our way to the front of the airport. We met a man from Pensacola Christian College, who transported us to the campus. The internet pictures we had seen were coming to life as he drove around the lovely campus. We made it!

     We checked in and received name badges and schedules for the week. The boys and girls then split up to find the dorm rooms. After we got settled, we went to dinner. It was the biggest buffet we had ever seen! Each of us loved getting soft-served ice cream from the self-service machine. We laughed and talked together in the huge cafeteria. During the first church service, we heard powerful preaching that spoke to our souls. THIS is what we had waited so long and worked so hard for. It was a dream come true, an answer to prayer, a once in-a-lifetime opportunity. But, this was just the first day. God had so much more planned for us during that exciting week!

(assignment Lesson #14 of Polliwog Writing Lessons)

If you are between the ages of 12-18,
(or know someone who likes to write stories)
I would like to post your story here.
Send me an email. I'd love to read your story!

Saturday, December 5, 2015

Happy Opposite Day




Happy Opposite Day!
by
Ashley Jones
(age 17)


   
 "Today is Opposite Day," Tommy proudly announced as he opened the pantry door.
     "That's nice, Honey. What should we have for breakfast?" his mom asked.
      "SPAGHETTI!"
     "Spaghetti?"
      "Mom, everyone knows that on opposite day, breakfast is at supper time and supper is at breakfast time. Please, can't we have spaghetti? It's my favorite," Tommy pleaded.
     "Ok. I guess this sounds like fun, Tommy".
     So spaghetti for breakfast it was. They even had meatballs and garlic bread to go with it.
     "Yum, Mom, that was so good," Tommy shouted as he wiped the dripping plates and cups.
     "Well, what else happens on Opposite Day?"
     "Hmmm," Tommy placed a plastic cup in the cupboard, "Lets go swimming!"
     "But Tommy, it is the middle of winter," Mom dumped the dirty dishwater.
     "I know! We can go to the community center pool. How about it, Mom?"
     "Let's get some beach towels, Tommy, we're going winter swimming!"
     Tommy and his mother had a great time swimming and splashing at the pool. Before they knew it, it was time for lunch. They decided to stick with the Opposite Day theme, so, they had ice-cream sundaes. Mom and Tommy continued to have fun all afternoon, doing everything opposite, of course. They read Tommy's favorite book backwards and even tried talking in backward sentences.
     "Hey, Tommy."
     "Yeah, Mom."
     "How about pancakes and sausage for breakfast?"
     "That sounds great!"
     Dad got home around "Hi, Honey, I'm home." He breathed in deeply. "What's for supper?"
     "Breakfast, you mean," Mom replied.
      "We're having pancakes, Dad, because it is Opposite Day!" Tommy filled Dad in on all the exciting things they had done that day.
     "Tommy, make sure I'm on my day off next time you plan an Opposite Day!"
     "OK, Dad, I will. Does next Thursday work for you?"
     "That sounds perfect," Dad laughed.
     Tommy and his family made it a tradition that they have Opposite Day at least once a month, but they never forgot their first ever Opposite Day.


(assignment for Lesson #13 of Polliwog Pages Writing Lessons)

If you are between the ages of 12-18,
(or know someone who likes to write stories)
I would like to post your story here.
Send me an email. I'd love to read your story!

Saturday, November 14, 2015

Berry Picking



 Berry Picking
by 
Ashley Jones
(age 17)


     Elizabeth grabbed her basket as she hurried out the door. She promised the neighbor girl that she would only have to stay with the napping children about an hour. "If I can just get those berries," she mumbled to herself as she was entering the wooded path.

     "Samuel used to find the plumpest, juiciest blackberries somewhere around here."

     Any money that had been left after Samuel's death six months ago was now long gone. Elizabeth had prayed hard about some way to earn enough money for necessities. "I guess this will have to do as long as the berry season lasts," she sighed. "If I can even find them!"

     On Elizabeth trudged through the forest path, until she finally reached a clearing. Several large bushes heavy-laden with blackberries lay before her. "Any of the neighbors would be glad to buy these big berries," she proudly stated. Elizabeth's basket very quickly began to fill as her mood started to lighten. Soon, she was softly singing Samuel's favorite song.

     Pleased with her quick progress, Elizabeth turned around to face the warm August breeze. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed something dark. When she turned her head she nearly shrieked at what she saw. Elizabeth's feet couldn't move as she watched the bear coming closer and closer. Not sure what to do, Elizabeth just stood still, frozen in her spot next to the berry bushes. The bear was at arm's length when it jerked its head the other way. She noticed the bear's skinny body. "It must be hungry," she thought amidst her intense fear. The bear turned back to face her for what seemed an eternity. Slowly, the bear again turned around, but this time it began to walk away. Elizabeth wasted no time in getting away. She ran back through the woods toward home, tears streaming down her flushed cheeks. When she was back inside the safety of her house relief flooded her soul. She dismissed the neighbor girl before she had time to ask what had happened.

   Elizabeth went about sweeping the kitchen floor until she realized her berry basket had not returned home with her. She set aside the broom as laughter overtook her. "I guess I will have to think of some other way to earn money. At least God kept me safe through the experience!"

  It was quite a while before Elizabeth would go berry-picking, and although the bear, satisfied with his berry-feast, never bothered her again.

(assignment for Lesson # 12 of Polliwog Writing Lessons)

If you are between the ages of 12-18,
(or know someone who likes to write stories)
I would like to post your story here.
Send me an email. I'd love to read your story!

Saturday, June 13, 2015

Tongue Twisters




Tongue Twisters
by
Ashley Jones
(age 17)

Alexander the Alligator
Ate eighteen apples
After his accident in August.

The sun shines so sparingly in September.

In Woodstock we are worthy
To be wished a wonderful weekend
By willing, wacky, Western-Mainers.

Love lingers longest
When lead by lecturing leaders
and the Lord of your life.


(original and unedited)
(assignment for Polliwog Writing Lesson #11)



If you are between the ages of 12-18,
(or know someone who likes to write stories)
I would like to post your story here.
Send me an email. I'd love to read your story!

Saturday, January 10, 2015

LIMERICKS

LIMERICKS
by
Ashley Jones


There once was a boy from Maine,
Who wanted to fly a plane.
They said he was too young,
But soon he begun.
And then he gained great fame.


There once was a girl named Jill
Who hopped and skipped up a hill.
She got to the top, 
But couldn't stop
She really made quite a spill!




(unedited and original)




If you are between the ages of 12-18, (or know someone who likes to write stories) I would like to post your story here. Send me an email. I'd love to read your story!

Saturday, November 29, 2014

What I'm Thankful For






What I'm Thankful For
by 
Ashley Jones
(age 15)

I am thankful for my family. I am so blessed;
I'm thankful for the sins that can freely be confesssed.
I am thankful for the house where I can safely dwell;
I'm thankful for the Gospel we can contiually tell.
I am thankful for my family and the love that we do share;
I'm thankful for Christ coming to earth and the burden He did bear.
I am thankful for good food and clothing on my back;
I'm thankful for forgiveness with God we will never lack.
I am very blessed. God has been so good to me;
I will give my praise to Him for all eternity.


(original and unedited)


If you are between the ages of 12-18,
(or know someone who likes to write stories)
I would like to post your story here.


Send me an email. I'd love to read your story!

Saturday, October 11, 2014

Why is Being Eleven So Difficult?



Why is Being Eleven So Difficult?
by
Ashley Jones
(age 15)



Sunday  July 16

     I know Sunday is the Lord's Day and is considered a day of rest, But sometimes I wish I could just go jump in the creek behind our barn and forget everything about being a lady. Instead, we spend the entire day in church and afterward visiting the parishioners in our community. Since Papa is the pastor he expects my brothers and I to behave especially well. I wouldn't exactly call sitting in a stuffy cabin, listening to the ongoing talk of adults "rest." Nevertheless, it is what Papa calls "God's will" for our lives. So for Papa's sake, I try my best to behave. Try. I can't help it that Horris Cooper is so bothersome. I am eleven and he is twelve. Apparently that single year makes one know so much more of the world's most important issues, such as whose horse is better, who has the nicest toys and so on. So, every Sunday Horris insists on "enlightening" me. He just makes me so angry. I guess that is just one of the burdens that I must bear. Fighting with boys, or anyone for that matter, is wrong. Papa made that very clear today after Horris tried to tell me how much better his Mama is. Why is being eleven so difficult?          
Yours Truly,
Mary Louise Williams



Tuesday July 18

     Chores, chores, chores! It seems like that is all I ever I do! At least the boys get to help Papa in the barn. I have to stay in the hot kitchen and help Mama with cooking and cleaning. Mama keeps telling me that that is what a lady is meant to do. If that is true, I think I'd rather be a boy. Sometimes Papa lets me milk Betsy. She is my favorite animal on our farm. It is so relaxing to be around her, I think she is one of my best friends. Mama and I are going to make a big batch of biscuits to go with our stew for tonight. Maybe she will let me make some funny shaped ones!
Yours Truly,
Mary Louise Williams



Friday July 21

     It has been too hot lately. My dress sticks to my legs even though it is the lightest one I have. I finished with my chores, but it is too hot for Blind man's bluff or even climbing trees with my brothers. I hope God sends us a breeze because our cabin is much too stuffy for anything especially sleeping! The boys get to go with Papa into town tomorrow to pick up some haying supplies. I really want to go, but there will not be enough room for me. Papa tried to make me feel better. He said Mama needs my help with the garden. Working in the garden is okay, but I would much rather go into town with Papa.
Yours Truly,
Mary Louise Williams



Tuesday July 25

     Papa and the boys started gathering all of the hay in the big field yesterday. They got really sweaty and the hay stuck all over them. Mama and I brought them a bucket of water for them to drink, and we ate sandwiches right in the middle of the field! When the work was all finished, Papa took the boys to the creek, and Mama let me go with them. We were swimming and splashing for a whole hour. I guess being a girl can be all right sometimes!
Yours Truly,
Mary Louise Williams



If you are between the ages of 13-18,
(or know someone who likes to write stories)
I would like to post your story here.

 Send me an email. I'd love to read your story!

Saturday, August 2, 2014

My Dog, Daisy




 My Dog, Daisy
by 
Ashley Jones
(age 16)

Daisy is just one of those dogs. We've had her for as long as I can remember, and no matter what we do, she is always a part of it. She is the small, heel-biting type, and she thinks she is queen of our home. Although we don't let her get away with it, she begs for table scraps during every meal. Daisy will always do a trick in exchange for a treat, but she won't budge if none are in sight.

We have to walk Daisy numerous times a day as she takes her sweet time sniffing all possible areas again and again. She loves to go on car rides as long as she can stick her head out the window. If we leave her home, she cries and mopes, and gives us a terrible time when we return.

Many people think that Daisy is just too spoiled,but if you ask me, I think she is perfect. She is always there to play a game of fetch or go on a long walk with me. She shares my hopes and dreams without laughing or making fun. Each time I feed her, she thanks me in her own tail-wagging way. At the end of the day, when it's time to sleep, Daisy is always there at my feet. You see, you can't always judge by outside appearance. Daisy is just a one-of-a kind dog. . . my dog.


(Polliwog Pages Writing Lesson #4)

If you are between the ages of 12-18, (or know someone who likes to write stories) I would like to post your story here. Send me an email. I'd love to read your story!

Saturday, April 12, 2014

George the Teensy



 George the Teensy
by
Ashley Jones
(age 15)



My name is George, and I have a BIG problem. I am terrified of spiders.  All spiders are as big as me.

One day as I was taking a bath in my favorite teacup, a hairy, eight-legged creature chased me off the counter and onto the floor. If you know me, you would realize I NEVER leave the kitchen counter, it is my home and the only safe place for someone like me. Anyway, the mean old arachnid continued to chase me until I found a large chocolate chip cookie crumb hidden under a dust bunny. I threw it to the spider, and climbed back up to the counter as quickly as I could. Forgetting about my half-finished bath, I decided to take a nap. My little match box bed is as comfy as any other bed, but all I could think about was me being a spider snack. Horrendous nightmares filled my head day and night, I knew that I needed to face my haunting fear or live with it forever.

So, for the second time in a week I ventured off the kitchen counter with a match in my hand and courage in my heart. I searched for a while to no avail. Hitching a ride on a stray ant made the going a lot quicker, I soon saw evidence of my fear: a giant spider's web woven with an intricate design. On the web sat the spider, waiting patiently for his prey. All of a sudden he spoke to me, “What do you want”, he asked in a booming voice. “I- I didn't know you could talk", I stammered unaware of my shaking hands. "Most people want nothing to do with me, I just wanted a friend", the spider replied.

     So that is the story of me, George the "Teensy ", and how I made friends with a spider.



(Assignment for Lesson #2 
of Polliwog Writing Lessons)

If you are between the ages of 12-18,
(or know someone who likes to write stories)
I would like to post your story here.
Send me an email. I'd love to read your story!

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