Trouble on the Computer
Sorry mom I’m having some problems with the computer although I’m having a blast using it. I’m getting really good at typing letters to other people. It is fun. I love you so much mom I can barely speak. I will give you a hint about the letter. It involves how many hours you spend at work. Love you.
By Emily Nelson
age 8, Chico
Emily attends Hooker Oak Elementary.
The day I broke my mom’s wedding gift vacuum, I knew I was in trouble. I only had one dollar and fifty cents, and I couldn’t have bought a new one with that. Then I saw my fifteen-pound orange Pomeranian eating bread crumbs and chicken off the floor, and that’s how I got my mom a new vacuum.
By Natalia Salgado Montoya
age 10, Magalia
Though she lives on the Ridge, Natalia goes to Chico Country Day School.untitled
“Run!” said Mike pushing past his brothers.
The three ran home. They escaped 59 dogs and lived to tell the tale. But what about their little sister Kristi?
“We better go,” said Joe.
“The dogs?” questioned Mike.
The door opened. “Hello, boys!” said Kristi with her torn clothes.
“Dogs?” asked Scott.
“Ya,” said Kristi.
“We’re dead meat,” sighed Joe.
By Ashlyn Donnahoe
age 9, Gridley
Ashlynn is a 4th grader at Manzanita Elementary.
The Magic Fox
There were hunters camping out in the woods. Some of them were girls, some of them were boys, but most of all, they were scared, because they didn’t know what was out there. So what they did is they set out a trap for their dinner. They caught a fox, but it was no ordinary fox. It granted wishes.
By Ayla McNeilley
age 7, Chico
Sitting in a chair behind his glasses sat Grandpa Frank. He was sweet like chocolate pie. I always sensed something great about him. When my mom cooked, his face winced in disgust because to him, it smelt worse than a herd of elephants. Not me though. Then, he just died. My heart is still scarred from being so broken.
By Lilly Prestigiacomo
age 9, Gridley
If Pigs Could Fly
Whenever I ask my mom to buy me fancy things—limousines, catalogues of expensive toys—she harrumphs and says, “When pigs fly!” No matter how much I whine, it’s always, “When pigs fly!” If pigs flew, I’d be in my dream world. Libraries of books, soft beds, and multiple pillows would add to my comfort. Too bad pigs can’t fly!
By Vivien Finche
age 10, Paradise