My daughter, the writer

Does she write, because she sees me writing? Does she write, because she likes to write? Does she write, because she has to write?

Recently my nine year old daughter told me that she had to finish her story, “.. I don’t really want to finish, but I must. I cannot stop writing, even though I am tired”, she sighed.

I won’t pretend that I was not proud and delighted to hear that. My mini-me.

She writes in English, despite learning to read in French.

When she wrote this story earlier, her first on her new computer that she paid for by saving her pocket money, she told me that I could post it on my blog. I have left the spelling mistakes, and her formatting.

My Daughter’s Story

i am going to tell you a story
about 2 horses
it starts now
once upon a time there was
2 horses they wore cold carrot and braunny they wore both braunn …
they went out for a walk in the forest they wore walking and walking and then
carrot said – i am thirsty can we stop – yes, said braunny
when they looked around they found their self standing in the middle of nowere …
so they kept on walking …
then they stopped on a bridge and carrot said – if we are on a bridge there would bee water
underneath it …
so they looked under it and there was WATER and they wore drinking lots and lots and lots and LOTS …
then they moovd on…
and then they herd something ratelling in the bush
a WILD CAT junped out , and attacked carotte a black horse came running ,and scared the wild cat avay , carrot went over and send – thank you so mush .
-no probellem , BETT NO HUGS AND KISSES .
the black horese wose cold coca , then coca sed – follo me i will bring you home …
wenn they gott home they had a rest and then they had fresh carotts from the field …
they became a famelly
and they oll livd hapelly ever after



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