Once, there lived a poor tailor, who had a son called Aladdin, a careless boy who would play all day long. One day, when Aladdin was playing, an old man came up to him, and said “Are you Aladdin? I can see you look very much like your father. You don’t know me, but I am your uncle, and had been away in a distant country for some time.” Thus he befriended Aladdin. Now, this strange man was no uncle of Aladdin, but he was a wicked magician, who wanted to make use of the boy's services.
Next day the magician led Aladdin to a beautiful garden outside the city. They went a good way into the country, until they came to two mountains divided by a narrow valley. There he lighted a fire, and threw into it some powder, all the time repeating strange words. The ground then opened right before them, and a stone trap-door appeared. Aladdin got very scared by seeing this. But the magician calmly lifted the trap door and told Aladdin "Fear nothing, but obey me. Beneath this stone lies a treasure which is to be yours, so you must do exactly as I tell you. Go down, and at the foot of those steps you will find an open door leading into three large halls. Go through them without touching anything. These halls lead into a garden of fine fruit trees. Walk on till you come to niche in a terrace where stands a lighted lamp. Blow the lamp out, pour out the oil it contains, and bring the lamp to me."
Aladdin went through the door, and found all that the Magician had told him to be true, and he found the lamp. As he came back through the garden, his eyes were dazzled with the bright-coloured fruits on the trees, shining like glass. He plucked and put some of these in his pockets, and then returned with the Lamp, and called to his uncle to help him up the steps. "Give me the Lamp," said the magician, angrily. "Not until I get out safe," cried the boy. The Magician, getting angry, slammed down the trap-door, and Aladdin was shut inside.
Aladdin was sitting and crying, when he happened to rub the lamp by chance. There was a strange sound and some smoke came out of the lamp. Then the smoke assumed the shape of a strange figure, and the figure said “Hello master, I am the genie of the lamp. I am at your command, please tell me what I can do for you.” Aladdin cried, “I just want to go back to my mother”. In an instant Aladdin found himself at home. He told his mother all that had happened. She felt curious, and rubbed the lamp. The Genie of the Lamp arose again, and asked for their commands. Aladdin and his mother asked for some food, and the choicest fare instantly appeared on a pretty dish of silver. Aladdin and his mother feasted on the rich fare brought to them. They lived happily for quite some time after that, since the genie always fulfilled their wishes.
One day, while Aladdin was out on his walk, he chanced to see the King's daughter, princess Bulbul. Bulbul was so beautiful, and Aladdin fell in love with her. So Aladdin’s mother took a bowl full of the shining fruits he had gathered before, and gifted it to the King, and asked for his daughter to be wed to Aladdin. The King was amazed at the richness of the fruits, and said to Aladdin's mother: "Your son shall have his wish, if he can send me forty bowls like this in a week." The Lamp Genie brought the bowls of fruits, and Aladdin's mother went with them to the King. The King was overjoyed at receiving these rich gifts, and had a grand feast to marry Princess Bulbul and Aladdin. Aladdin then ordered the Lamp Genie to build a superb Palace, and the young couple lived there quite happily for some time.
Meanwhile, the wicked Magician heard about Aladdin’s wonderful palace, and knew that it was because of the Lamp Genie. He wished to get hold of the Magic Lamp for himself, so one day when Aladdin was out of town, he went near the palace with a basketful of lamps and cried out in the streets, "New lamps for old ones! New lamps for old ones!" On hearing him, the young princess, who did not know the value of Aladdin's old Lamp, changed it for a new one, and so the Magician got the magic lamp.
Immediately, the Magician asked the Genie to transport the Palace and princess Bulbul to Africa. Aladdin's was so grief stricken, and went to Africa to find the princess. The Princess was rejoiced to see him again. He then gave her a powerful sleeping-tonic, and advised her to pour it into the Magician’s wine at dinner that day. The magician fell sound asleep after drinking the tonic. Then Aladdin came and took the Lamp, and called upon the Genie to transport the Palace, the Princess, and himself, back. Aladdin and Bulbul lived in the palace and enjoyed good fortune for a long time, and did not see the wicked magician again.
Based on the story above, adapt the story by changing the literary elements in the story.
My family is always being completely torn apart by war - my father is already out there fighting, and my 10 year old brother is sure to follow his footsteps one day. My mother has no money, and is faced with the challenge of feeding and looking after a family of three in the middle of utmost poverty. She struggles to care for our needs, using the very little money our father left her to buy the absolute necessities. My mother’s greatest fear is the children authorities, who she sees banging on doors, and taking children away from their families’. She is scared that one day they will come to the door of our tiny, ruined tin house; decide that the living standards are not fit enough for my brother and I to live in and take us away forever.
One day, a bomb came down on our house; luckily, no one was there at the time. I had seen it coming down as I was walking back from my daily begging on the streets. It was quite strange actually. One minute, clear blue skies stretched out for miles to see. Then suddenly, out of nowhere, a big dark shape with a bright red and orange light at the end of it came plummeting towards our house. It was quite pretty actually, and I watched it in awe as it rocketed to the earth, completely oblivious to the screams around me. Then it hit. As I was quite a distance away, I did not realize that it had hit our house. I rushed over to see what had happened. After deciding that it was no longer as interesting as it had been when it was still in the sky, I started playing in the rubble. I saw our mother hobbling over in the distance and ran to meet her. "Mummy!" I shouted, "Look at our house!" I was quite proud of having seen the damage first and so I was completely unprepared for our Mother’s reaction. She rushed over, gazed at the remains of our house and fell to her knees, sobs erupting out of her. My brother Yasin arrived then, and ran over and helped our mother up from the ground. "What will we do mother?" he asked eventually. "We have to find a new place to live" she answered after a few minutes.
We spent the next day sorting through the rubble for any belongings that we could find; there were not very promising results. We sat down while our mother brought out her old and worn address book and started slowly turning the pages with her worn hands. Finally, she stopped. "We will go and stay with your father’s sister, your Aunty" she said. "Her husband works for a housing company and maybe he can get us a new home". I did not know what this meant but I saw Yasin nodding seriously so I nodded too.
We decided that the next day, we would set off. Our mother told us to come with her and beg on the streets for some bedding and money. We managed to retrieve some dirty old cushions out of the local tip and some food out of some garbage bins. Mother wanted to save the very little money we had for the journey ahead which was to be a two-day walk. As our mother prepared our small uncomfortable beds in an old shed we had come across, and Yasin and I chewed on some old bread, there was a knock at the door. A look of surprised crossed our mother’s face, but as the knocking persisted, she got up.
As the ceiling of the shed dipped down in the middle, our mother was hidden from view, but Yasin and I heard loud, gruff voices, and then the pleading voice of their mother’s. The next minute two heavyset men came in and gazed over Yasin and I, and our living standards. The look on our mother’s face said it all: the children authorities. Our mother tried explaining that we had just been bombed and these living standards were only temporary, but the men would not listen. They started towards us but mother stood in front of us, blocking their path. She looked over her shoulder at us. “Run!” she mouthed.
Then it all happened very quickly, two other men ran in, grabbed mother round her skinny waist and started dragging her off. Where to, I would never find out for Yasin grabbed my arm, kicked down the back wall of the shed and dragged me out. Using my instinct I ran. Yasin ran ahead of me and when we came to a bend in the road he disappeared from view completely. When I finally made it around the bend myself, he was gone. I ran and ran, searching desperately for him. I then ran back in the direction I had come so I could get my mother. Then she and I could find him together. I ran and ran but our house never appeared. I looked around at my unfamiliar surroundings. There were no houses, no one I could ask for help. I looked down at my dirty feet. The ground beneath them was dusty and bare. I looked up into the sky. It was dirty with smoke from the bombs and smog from the factories where the soldiers lived and worked. There was not a cloud in sight.
A tiny brown butterfly, fluttered down and landed on my outstretched arm. "Are you all alone little butterfly? Are you lost?" I asked it. As I gazed at it I realized how small and insignificant it was. Nobody cared about it, anyone who looked at it, looked away and did not give it a second thought. As she tearfully sat down, Yasmine realized that she was no different to this little brown butterfly. She was lost and alone in a world where no one cared what happened to her, where no one even knew that she existed.
Identify the literary elements in the story : Yasmin Jamali
Based on the story above, adapt the story by changing the literary elements in the story.
Read the following articles and answer the personal response questions. A Glass of Milk – Paid In Full
One day, a poor boy who was selling goods from door to door to pay his way through school, found he had a few coins left, and he was hungry. He decided he would ask for a meal at the next house. When a lovely young woman opened the door, he asked for a drink of water, instead of a meal. She thought he looked hungry so brought him a large glass of milk. He drank it slowly, and then asked, “How much do I owe you?” “You don’t owe me anything,” she replied. “Mother has taught us never to accept payment for a kindness.” He said, “Then I thank you from my heart.”
As Howard Kelly left that house, he not only felt stronger physically, but his faith in God and man was strong also. He had been ready to give up and quit.
Years later that young woman became critically ill. The local doctors were baffled. They finally sent her to the big city, where they called in specialists to study her rare disease. Dr. Howard Kelly was called in for the consultation. When he heard the name of the town she came from, a strange light filled his eyes. Immediately he rose and went down the hall of the hospital to her room. Dressed in his doctor’s gown he went in to see her. He recognized her at once. He went back to the consultation room determined to do his best to save her life. From that day he gave special attention to the case.
After a long struggle, the battle was won. Dr. Kelly requested the business office to pass the final bill to him for approval. He looked at it, and then wrote something on the edge and the bill was sent to her room. She feared to open it, for she was sure it would take the rest of her life to pay for it all. Finally she looked, and something caught her attention on the side of the bill. She began to read the following words:
“Paid in full with one glass of milk”
Signed, Dr. Howard Kelly.
° Do you like this article? Why?
° Can you remember the kindness others have shown you?
° Would you sacrifice your time and money on others? Why?
Never Say Die – A Story of Determination and Persistence This is a real life story of engineer John Roebling building the Brooklyn Bridge in New York, USA back in 1870. The bridge was completed in 1883, after 13 years.
In 1870, a creative engineer named John Roebling was inspired by an idea to build a spectacular bridge connecting New York with the Long Island. However bridge building experts throughout the world thought that this was an impossible feat and told Roebling to forget the idea. It just could not be done. It was not practical. It had never been done before.
Roebling could not ignore the vision he had in his mind of this bridge. He thought about it all the time and he knew deep in his heart that it could be done. He just had to share the dream with someone else. After much discussion and persuasion he managed to convince his son Washington, an up and coming engineer, that the bridge in fact could be built.
Working together for the first time, the father and son developed concepts of how it could be accomplished and how the obstacles could be overcome. With great excitement and inspiration, and the headiness of a wild challenge before them, they hired their crew and began to build their dream bridge.
The project started well, but when it was only a few months underway a tragic accident on the site took the life of John Roebling. Washington was also injured and left with a certain amount of brain damage, which resulted in him not being able to talk or walk.
“We told them so.” “Crazy men and their crazy dreams.” “It’s foolish to chase wild visions.”
Everyone had a negative comment to make and felt that the project should be scrapped since the Roeblings were the only ones who knew how the bridge could be built.
In spite of his handicap Washington was never discouraged and still had a burning desire to complete the bridge and his mind was still as sharp as ever. He tried to inspire and pass on his enthusiasm to some of his friends, but they were too daunted by the task.
As he lay on his bed in his hospital room, with the sunlight streaming through the windows, a gentle breeze blew the flimsy white curtains apart and he was able to see the sky and the tops of the trees outside for just a moment.
It seemed that there was a message for him not to give up. Suddenly an idea hit him. All he could do was move one finger and he decided to make the best use of it. By moving this, he slowly developed a code of communication with his wife.
He touched his wife’s arm with that finger, indicating to her that he wanted her to call the engineers again. Then he used the same method of tapping her arm to tell the engineers what to do. It seemed foolish but the project was under way again.
For 13 years Washington tapped out his instructions with his finger on his wife’s arm, until the bridge was finally completed. Today the spectacular Brooklyn Bridge stands in all its glory as a tribute to the triumph of one man’s indomitable spirit and his determination not to be defeated by circumstances. It is also a tribute to the engineers and their team work, and to their faith in a man who was considered mad by half the world. It stands too as a tangible monument to the love and devotion of his wife who for 13 long years patiently decoded the messages of her husband and told the engineers what to do.
° Do you like this article? Why?
° Do you feel motivated after reading the story?
° Have you experienced a never-say-die situation before?
There once was a little boy who had a bad temper. His father gave him a bag of nails and told him that every time he lost his temper, he must hammer a nail into the fence.
The first day the boy had driven 37 nails into the fence. Over the next few weeks as he learned to control his anger, the number of nails hammered daily, gradually dwindled down. He discovered it was easier to hold his temper than to drive those nails into the fence. Finally the day came when the boy didn’t lose his temper at all. He told his father about it and the father suggested that the boy now pull out one nail for each day that he was able to hold his temper.
The days passed and the young boy was finally able to tell his father that all the nails were gone. The father took his son by the hand and led him to the fence. He said “you have done well, my son, but look at the holes in the fence. The fence will never be the same. When you say things in anger, they leave a scar just like this one.”
You can put a knife in a man and draw it out. It won’t matter how many times you say I’m sorry, the wound is still there.
Make sure you control your temper the next time you are tempted to say something you will regret later.
° Do you like this article? Why?
° Do you easily get angry? How do you control your temper?
° Do you regret any incident where you said things in anger? If given a chance to go back in time,