Writing 101: First Person, Honing my “Point of View”

I am way behind on my writing assignments, but here is the twelve-year-old point of view:

Writing 101: Hone Your Point of View

The neighbourhood has seen better days, but Mrs. Pauley has lived there since before anyone can remember. She raised a family of six boys, who’ve all grown up and moved away. Since Mr. Pauley died three months ago, she’d had no income. She’s fallen behind in the rent. The landlord, accompanied by the police, have come to evict Mrs. Pauley from the house she’s lived in for forty years.

Today’s prompt: write this story in first person, told by the twelve-year-old sitting on the stoop across the street.


I’m thinking, wow! Look at all those police cars! I bet they are coming to take Mrs. Pauley away. She said she couldn’t pay the rent, and she thought someone would be coming shortly to make her leave her home. I wonder where her family is? She said she had some boys that were all grown up. She has been so sad since Mr. Pauley died. I have a bad feeling about this.

I wish I was older, ’cause I would take Mrs. Pauley in. She’s been like a Grandma to me, always giving me cookies, and letting me pick apples from her tree. I loved the stories she told me in the Bible. She’s a good Christian lady. I know God watches over her, and she said last time I visited, that she really missed Mr. Pauley. She wished she could just get taken up in a chariot of fire, like Elijah the Prophet was. But then, she said she didn’t know why God kept her around, except that He must have a plan for her.
I would run over there now, but Mom told me to stay away from there, and not get involved.
Well, I don’t like to disrespect Mom, but I gotta tell Mrs. Pauley that I love her, and I gotta say goodbye, or find out what’s happening. I guess I’ll suffer the consequences later. She’s too busy to notice if I go over there anyway. How can I just sit on these steps, and not try to do something to help her?
“Mrs. Pauley,” I yell, “Is there anything I can do?” Oh! She looks so sad!
Mrs. Pauley is crying. I can’t stand it!
I say, “Mrs Pauley, let me run home and see if my mom will let you come to our house, until you can figure out what to do.”
Wait, what is this on the ground? A hundred dollar bill?
I yell, “Police! Landlord!  Don’t take Mrs. Pauley. I can pay her rent! I got a hundred dollars!”
The big officer tells me, “Missy, that is not enough to cover what she owes. She owes about twenty-five times that. Besides, she shouldn’t be living alone at her age.”
Just then, I see a car pull up. What do I see inside? Six big men?
They get out of the car after it squeals to a stop. The doors open at the same time. These guys look like warriors on the warpath!
They run to Mrs. Pauley’s side. Mrs. Pauley’s face changes from sad to happy!
“These men are my sons!” Mrs. Pauley says with a shaky voice. Each one begins hugging her, and taking turns telling her that everything will be okay. They are going to take turns having her at their houses, and will see how that works out.
I can hear them scolding her for not telling them that she couldn’t pay the rent. They are telling her that they would have helped, had they known.
I am so happy! Now I know Mrs. Pauley is going to be okay! I am jumping for joy. As she sees me, she motions for me.
She introduces me to her sons. She gives me one of their addresses, and tells me to write to her. She tells me that everything works out for good for them that love God! I guess that’s true!
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