Writing Contest Winners 2013 — 3rd and 4th Grades
Congratulations to the following 3rd and 4th grade winners of the “PHB” Homeschool Writing Contest!!!
1st Place: Larisa, a traditional homeschooler in Grade 4 from Phoenixville, PA, for the story entitled “The (Almost) Attack of the Elves”. Larisa’s wonderful winning story is reprinted below.
2nd Place: Faith, a traditional homeschooler in Grade 4 from Kent, WA, for the story entitled “What to Do When Your Rug Turns into a Portal”.
3rd Place: Caleb, a traditional homeschooler in Grade 3 from Henryville, IN, for the story entitled “The Sinkhole Terror”.
The winners have been notified and will be receiving their prizes from the sponsors shortly.
Special thanks to all the students who participated! You did a fantastic job! We can tell that you all worked very hard. I hope to host more writing contests in the future. Please try again!
Special thanks to the following Sponsors who helped make this contest possible:
- The Institute for Excellence in Writing
- Peace Hill Press &
- Silver Lining Press
Special thanks also to the panel of judges who helped me select the winners:
- Michelle Lofton
- Rosario Cintron
- Julia Melone
- Theresa George
As promised, following is a reprint of Larisa’s fantastic winning story:
“The (Almost) Attack of the Elves”
“Help! Help!” my sister screamed frantically.
I groaned. What a drama queen! What could it be this time? Reluctantly, I followed the sounds of her cries. I poked my head into Jenny’s room, and saw her hiding under her bed. She never did that, so I was very surprised. I said, “Jenny what’s the matter?”
“As if you don’t know!” Jenny wailed. “They’re coming!”
“When?” I asked, suddenly very serious. “I’ve got to tell everyone. They told me to. The people have to get to the hiding place before it’s too late.”
Jenny looked up at me. “The elf king himself told me. The elves are coming by noon. Today.”
“But the peace treaty!” I gasped. “They can’t!”
The elves are the worst enemy of the whole of New York, by the way, but especially my hometown of Lemon in New York. They’re the slyest, trickiest, I-can’t-say-what-else group of people living in this extremely busy city. And a lot of New Yorkers are pretty sly too. They seem to attack us around Christmas every year, which is very unhandy for most of us. We expect them, but they steal our weapons so we can’t fight.
I raced out of the room, out of the apartment, and up to the door of the next one. Even before I rang the doorbell, the door opened, and Mrs. Dale came out.
“It’s time, isn’t it?” she asked.
I nodded, and without saying anything else, Mrs. Dale went to the next door on her side. I crossed the hall and quickly knocked on that door.
Out peeked Mr. Falcon, the shy man. “Is it time?” he asked.
“Of course,” I said. “Please let other people know.”
I kept notifying the town, and I finally finished at 10. Everyone was gathered at the huge rock in Mr. Umbrella’s backyard.
“Okay, everybody,” I called. “As you all know, the elves will attack at noon. You all have a knife or something sharp, I see. Good. Now, inside this rock is a secret room, and it’s big enough to hold all of you. Just lift the latch and get in, but hurry! There’s not much time!”
Mrs. Dale cautiously opened the almost invisible door and scanned the room. “I am not going to hide in this hole of a room, not even if the world was ending,” she announced dramatically.
“Well, I’m afraid that you’re going to have to,” I told her.
“Fine.” Mrs. Dale climbed in, and everyone else followed.
I was about to say something to Jenny when I realized that she was still in her room. I raced into our apartment and found her still hiding. “Jenny, come on down! It’s ten thirty, and I need your help!” I yelled.
“All right,” Jenny said, climbing out from under her bed.
“Then come on!” I told her.
We dashed down to the street, raced around the corner, and arrived at a long, low warehouse with a sign that read GOOD WORKERS WAREHOUSE.
Good Workers Warehouse had been there since the town of Lemon was started. It was very old and used to be used as a workshop for woodworkers. There was still plenty of wood left lying around, and I needed to put it to use.
“Okay, Jenny,” I told her. “Can you gather some wood, please? I’ll get a table. I need short wood, so see if you can find some.”
“Yes sir,” Jenny giggled. She saluted, army style, and ran to carry out the duty assigned to her.
While Jenny picked up wood, I looked around the enormous room for tools. I grabbed a few necessary ones. As I scanned the floor under a huge bench, I saw something out of the corner of my eye. Crawling toward it for a closer look, I discovered a special tool called a span!
Just then, Jenny came back with an armload of cast-out wood. “I’ve found everything you need,” she said. Besides the wood, she’d collected an assortment of tiny toys, a few pitchforks, and an elf costume.
“Jenny, I don’t think that those extra things are actually necessary,” I said. “I mean, I don’t need toys. I’ll admit the pitchforks might come in handy, but really, an elf costume?” Then I realized why she’d gotten that stuff. “Oh. Thanks, Jenny!”
“No problem,” Jenny said. “Now, let’s get cracking!”
We worked and worked. I mostly used my span. Finally my contraption was finished. I donned the elf costume. I got into the flying car I’d made and flew out over where the elves were camped.
“Elves!” I announced loudly. “I bring news! I am the elf king! I am unhappy with your decision to attack the good people of the town of Lemon. They are my friends.”
One brave elf, his mouth gaping at me, said, “We hear and obey, O lord.”
I yelled, “Do not attack, my elves, for bad luck will come upon you if you do.”
Another elf said, “We hear and obey, O lord.”
“I must go. Remember, do not attack!” I shouted, flying away.
I flew the car back to the warehouse, where Jenny was waiting. “Did they pay attention? Are they coming back?” she demanded.
“Yes, and I’m not sure,” I replied, taking off the costume. “We’ll just have to wait and see.”
We ran back to the secret-room rock. We quickly climbed inside. I checked my watch. Five more minutes. It felt like an eternity.
Finally, twelve o’clock came. Nothing happened.
Ten minutes later, nothing happened.
“You did it!” Jenny cheered. When everyone else was confused, we explained. They they all cheered too. “You saved us!”
I felt like a hero, which I was.
When the mayor was informed, he threw a huge party for me. But I didn’t need all that fancy stuff. It was enough to know that I’d just saved the town of Lemon.
Posted by Gwen Fredette on December 19th, 2013