A
Labor Day of Thanksgiving
[edited, body paragraphs modified]
The sun shines brightly
through the delicately laced patterns of cotton adorning the
oversized kitchen window. As I stand there, entranced in the repetitive
motions of my hands and the soothing warmth of the sudsy
water, I glance upward. Through the window I see my children
playing softball with their father in the backyard.
Focusing more intently, I begin to hear giggling as the girls
scurry after the ball. Daddy is looking on and smiling, much as I
am from behind the curtains. From the living room a voice
from within the television announces the need for volunteers to
help with the Jerry Lewis Labor Day Telethon and I am reminded of a time
last summer when I first began to truly empathize with those living with
muscular dystrophy. [The underlined words are not all the nouns, only those
that are concrete, that can be visualized. Others, such as “time last
summer” and “muscular dystrophy,” though valid, are more abstract.]
The end of May was fast
approaching, and my family doctor remained puzzled by my symptoms. For five
months she had watched me continue to steadily lose weight, strength, and range
of movement. … [Notice that each Body paragraph tells a small story.]
A few weeks later I had my first
appointment with the neurologist, who after an examination and later an EMG,
ordered a DNA test to confirm his findings. He informed me that he believed I
had one of two forms of MD. …
A few weeks later I had my first
appointment with Dr. Nelson. I didn't know how I was or was supposed to be
feeling. He tried to encourage me, and I became more hopeful as he described
other treatable possibilities. … The pain dulled to a throb as he held up the
prize specimen commenting on its beauty and handing it to the nurse. Then he
began stitching my skin back together while my bicep was on its way to the lab.
As soon as the results were in,
Dr. nelson called to give me what we called "better news," not good,
but better than previously thought. …
Fifteen
months
later, after a long and painful struggle, both physically and
emotionally, I have been able to come closer to that goal than I had actually
believed possible. I have lowered my steroid dosage, but continue to take
a high dose of an anticancer drug. The side effects are
manageable; I just need a little more rest to combat the fatigue,
but I think that's something all moms need. And so today, as I stand
again by this kitchen window and hear my children yelling,
"Mommy, come outside and play!" I think of how lucky I am to be
able to go. Stepping out into the yard and picking up the bat, I
realize that in a way Labor Day is also my Thanksgiving. It
reminds me to think about what I could have lost and those who have lost or
never gotten the chance to have. I thank God for the miracles He has given me
and pray for those still suffering, for the father who cannot leave his bed
to teach his children to play ball and for the child who will
never be able to play. [Notice, there are many more nouns in this paragraph,
some more abstract than others.]
Introduction: 21 concrete
nouns
Conclusion: 21 concrete nouns
| Reminder:
the introduction and conclusion of the narrative together make up a
story. It is not the main story. The main story is the body of the
narrative. But the introduction and conclusion have to have enough
"reality" in order for the reader to believe in the the main
story. The "reality" is established by convincing the reader
through detail that the main story is a real memory that arose from a
real, specific, occasion. This occasion is the present time and place
that make up the introduction and conclusion.
"A Labor Day of Thanksgiving" was written by Tonya Daniels. The complete story is available at Voices Electric: Daniels. |
Return to The Writers' Web Lessons