Prep School Pretties, Good with Words

The last time I really blogged, the kids were dropping out of Korean school and I was a mess. Well, the latter's still true, but the kids were awarded scholarships to an international school here and are adjusting well. 

We love a lot of things about new school--the emphasis on the arts, the organic vegetable garden and solar panels on the roof, the pond with live turtles and fish where the kids have their life science lessons, the diversity of the student body, and the small class sizes. There are only six kids in Jensie's class! Three Koreans, two Saudis, and m'girl.

It has been decided that Frankie is the cutest girl in the school (while three-year-old Jamin in the Pre-K program is the cutest boy) and she is definitely spoiled. 

Asher, whose drama teacher calls him fondly, "The Man of 1,000 Facts" is the beloved class clown.

Mostly though, I love Jensie's teacher for encouraging Jensie to write her little heart out.  She's the "featured writer" this week at school, so I thought we'd feature her here as well. Here's a sample of a recent journal entry on the teacher-chosen topic:

The Saddest Day of My Life

Remember sweet Ollie? Aw.

I never knew my dog would change my life. It was a sunny day in Georgia I was five and my sister was one. My dad was gardening then suddenly I heard my dog Ollie yapping and barking. I looked over to see if he had found a squirrel or something but no, my sister was sitting by him gurgling and playing in the grass. So I thought nothing was wrong (that was a mistake)! 

So I went back to whatever I was doing. Then I went inside for a drink, and I was surprised to find Ollie lying on the floor with blood trickling out of his mouth and forming a small pool of blood near his head. 

I suddenly forgot about a drink, and ran to my dad as fast as my little legs could carry me. When I got to my dad I shouted, jumping up and down, “Dad! Dad! Ollie is hurt!” 

Well that got him. He dropped his shoveling spade and ran into the house with me. When we got inside, we found Ollie with his eyes rolled way back in his head and coughing up blood. So my dad got my mom, she was in her room, got my brother, I don’t know where he was, got my baby sister, and we drove an hour to the vet. 

When we got there we were afraid it was going to be too late. It turned out my baby sister had fed him a rock and it had gotten stuck in his lungs. We dropped him off and made sure he was ok on his own and drove home. 

We waited, and waited, for the phone to ring. We waited for the news that our dog was ok. I was nervous because I thought he wasn’t going to be ok. 

Finally the phone rang. My dad answered it and we waited once more for some good news. Finally, he came out from talking on the phone with a sad look on his face. “He…he…he didn’t m-m-make it,” he sighed and said. “I’m sorry.” 

And that was that. Ollie was gone.  

I was sad, but after Ollie died, we got another dog and I loved her too.