We finde book :

Short stories for family reading: includes 16 original stories with covers (coming of age kids storie - Online Books, Poems, Short Stories - Read Print Library



We invite short stories from Indian Women, staying in India or abroad. In rare cases, stories from Indian men are also accepted. The stories must be short and crisp, but original and unpublished elsewhere (including your own blog). Please see our Terms & Conditions   and FAQ before submitting the story.

Many of the links on Induswomanwriting  are affiliate/referral links. This means that if you click through them and make a purchase, IWW will be paid a small fee for referring you. These affiliate/referral fees are used to pay for the expenses of maintaining and running this site. Your use of these affiliate/referral links is greatly appreciated.

She was one of those pretty and charming girls born, as if by an error of fate, into a family of clerks. She had no dowry, no expectations, no means of becoming known, understood, loved or wedded by a man of wealth and distinction; and so she let herself be married to a minor official at the Ministry of Education.

     She dressed plainly because she had never been able to afford anything better, but she was as unhappy as if she had once been wealthy. Women don't belong to a caste or class; their beauty, grace, and natural charm take the place of birth and family. Natural delicacy, instinctive elegance and a quick wit determine their place in society, and make the daughters of commoners the equals of the very finest ladies.

     When she sat down to dinner at a round table covered with a three-day-old cloth opposite her husband who, lifting the lid off the soup, shouted excitedly, "Ah! Beef stew! What could be better," she dreamed of fine dinners, of shining silverware, of tapestries which peopled the walls with figures from another time and strange birds in fairy forests; she dreamed of delicious dishes served on wonderful plates, of whispered gallantries listened to with an inscrutable smile as one ate the pink flesh of a trout or the wings of a quail.

B y definition your autobiography is about you, but don't hog all the spotlight. Don't forget to mention other family members, especially brothers and sisters.

If you are reading this, then you are most likely the one in your family that realizes the importance of keeping a personal journal and preserving examples of family stories . Maybe your brother(s) and/or sister(s) couldn't care less, at this point.

If this is the case, just know that what you write about them today may be the only thing that their descendants will ever know about them.

Children can learn about family heritage at the same time they are improving their literacy skills. Using family-based writing projects, you can build a connection with parents, and help children see the value in their own heritage and in the diversity around them.

Every child has a person whose story should be told, a person who has taught,cared-for, and loved them, a person whose influence and ability to inspire is trulyheroic.
— Bill Starkey, counselor at Cherry Valley School, Polson, Montana

Students' writing connects them to their families and communities in diverse and creative ways. Families can support and provide experiences for their children to write about, and they themselves can participate in the story process by being storytellers or audiences. Children love to listen to stories, sharing time and family history with the parent or grandparent who tells them. Listening to these stories, children learn the structure of narratives and the many ways of relating meaningful and engaging thoughts and events.

We invite short stories from Indian Women, staying in India or abroad. In rare cases, stories from Indian men are also accepted. The stories must be short and crisp, but original and unpublished elsewhere (including your own blog). Please see our Terms & Conditions   and FAQ before submitting the story.

Many of the links on Induswomanwriting  are affiliate/referral links. This means that if you click through them and make a purchase, IWW will be paid a small fee for referring you. These affiliate/referral fees are used to pay for the expenses of maintaining and running this site. Your use of these affiliate/referral links is greatly appreciated.

She was one of those pretty and charming girls born, as if by an error of fate, into a family of clerks. She had no dowry, no expectations, no means of becoming known, understood, loved or wedded by a man of wealth and distinction; and so she let herself be married to a minor official at the Ministry of Education.

     She dressed plainly because she had never been able to afford anything better, but she was as unhappy as if she had once been wealthy. Women don't belong to a caste or class; their beauty, grace, and natural charm take the place of birth and family. Natural delicacy, instinctive elegance and a quick wit determine their place in society, and make the daughters of commoners the equals of the very finest ladies.

     When she sat down to dinner at a round table covered with a three-day-old cloth opposite her husband who, lifting the lid off the soup, shouted excitedly, "Ah! Beef stew! What could be better," she dreamed of fine dinners, of shining silverware, of tapestries which peopled the walls with figures from another time and strange birds in fairy forests; she dreamed of delicious dishes served on wonderful plates, of whispered gallantries listened to with an inscrutable smile as one ate the pink flesh of a trout or the wings of a quail.

B y definition your autobiography is about you, but don't hog all the spotlight. Don't forget to mention other family members, especially brothers and sisters.

If you are reading this, then you are most likely the one in your family that realizes the importance of keeping a personal journal and preserving examples of family stories . Maybe your brother(s) and/or sister(s) couldn't care less, at this point.

If this is the case, just know that what you write about them today may be the only thing that their descendants will ever know about them.

We invite short stories from Indian Women, staying in India or abroad. In rare cases, stories from Indian men are also accepted. The stories must be short and crisp, but original and unpublished elsewhere (including your own blog). Please see our Terms & Conditions   and FAQ before submitting the story.

Many of the links on Induswomanwriting  are affiliate/referral links. This means that if you click through them and make a purchase, IWW will be paid a small fee for referring you. These affiliate/referral fees are used to pay for the expenses of maintaining and running this site. Your use of these affiliate/referral links is greatly appreciated.

We invite short stories from Indian Women, staying in India or abroad. In rare cases, stories from Indian men are also accepted. The stories must be short and crisp, but original and unpublished elsewhere (including your own blog). Please see our Terms & Conditions   and FAQ before submitting the story.

Many of the links on Induswomanwriting  are affiliate/referral links. This means that if you click through them and make a purchase, IWW will be paid a small fee for referring you. These affiliate/referral fees are used to pay for the expenses of maintaining and running this site. Your use of these affiliate/referral links is greatly appreciated.

She was one of those pretty and charming girls born, as if by an error of fate, into a family of clerks. She had no dowry, no expectations, no means of becoming known, understood, loved or wedded by a man of wealth and distinction; and so she let herself be married to a minor official at the Ministry of Education.

     She dressed plainly because she had never been able to afford anything better, but she was as unhappy as if she had once been wealthy. Women don't belong to a caste or class; their beauty, grace, and natural charm take the place of birth and family. Natural delicacy, instinctive elegance and a quick wit determine their place in society, and make the daughters of commoners the equals of the very finest ladies.

     When she sat down to dinner at a round table covered with a three-day-old cloth opposite her husband who, lifting the lid off the soup, shouted excitedly, "Ah! Beef stew! What could be better," she dreamed of fine dinners, of shining silverware, of tapestries which peopled the walls with figures from another time and strange birds in fairy forests; she dreamed of delicious dishes served on wonderful plates, of whispered gallantries listened to with an inscrutable smile as one ate the pink flesh of a trout or the wings of a quail.


51dkIuDdlaL