An hour later, the rain had finally stopped, and a weak beam of afternoon sunlight broke through the attic window. Clara put her pencil down and looked up at her aunt, her eyes glowing. She had filled two whole pages.
475 | Creating a Family Culture of Reading, Writing and Creativity…
Clara wanted to write a story, but her mind felt as blank as the page before her. janice campbell
Clara closed her eyes. She ignored the rain and thought about last summer. She thought about the giant old avocado tree in her grandparents' backyard. She remembered climbing up into its thick, green branches where the leaves were so dense they created a secret, shaded cave. She remembered sitting up there for hours, hidden from the rest of the world, eating a peach while the juice ran down her chin. "I'm thinking of the avocado tree," Clara whispered.
Janice reached over and tapped Clara’s blank paper. "Close your eyes. Don't think about writing a masterpiece. Just think about a memory that feels like a cookie." An hour later, the rain had finally stopped,
"I heard a heavy sigh all the way from the kitchen," Janice smiled, setting the tray down on the desk. "Writer's block?"
Janice watched quietly, sipping her milk. She knew that the secret to writing wasn't found in a handbook of strict rules, but in the joy of discovery. 475 | Creating a Family Culture of Reading,
Clara picked up her pencil. She didn't try to use big, complicated words. Instead, she wrote about the rough bark of the tree against her sneakers. She wrote about the cool, green light filtering through the leaves and the sweet, sticky taste of the summer peach.