Seventh grade students in Katya Fitzpatrick’s class at St. Jerome Regional School learned about personal narratives.

Students learned the author is the main character in a personal narrative. The story focuses on a small moment in time and it’s written in the first person point of view.

The narrative should feature descriptive language and dialogue. The reader should be immersed in the story.

Students worked on two different personal narratives across four weeks. Students went through the process of brainstorming ideas and of receiving peer review from various classmates. Next, they went through the outlining process. Each story required a total of four handwritten drafts.

Here are a few of the narratives:

My Trip to the Rockettes

Lillian Gallagher

It was finally December 2nd, the day of our bus trip to New York City to see the famous Rockettes! The bus dropped us off at Radio City Music Hall, and we hurried inside. Once inside, we stopped to take in all the bright lights, beautiful decorations, and the huge crystal chandelier in the lobby. It was breathtaking!

My mother is so kind, she bought us each a few snacks and drinks, and we took our seats. We were so excited for the show. It was a favorite of ours.

The room smelled like warm pecans and cinnamon. The ceiling was tall with another beautiful chandelier in the center. It was loud and crowded, with everyone taking their seats. We settled in and got ready for the show. “I can’t wait, Lilly!” my mom exclaimed. My best friend Ashlyn, always dressed perfectly for any occasion, unzipped her white puffer coat and revealed her bright red Christmas sweater.” TADA!” she said happily and giggled.

I was wearing so many layers my green eyes were the only thing still able to be seen. My mom took off her black hat revealing her short, blonde hair. “I love your sweater,” my mom said to Ashlyn, in a sweet tone. “Thank you! It’s my absolute favorite one. I couldn’t wait to wear it today,” she beamed.

The lights in the ceiling dimmed before going out, and the lights on stage turned on. It was finally time to enjoy the show we’d come to the city to see. The Rockettes took the stage with their shiny, sequined dresses and hair pulled back into tight buns, forming their famous kick line. They stayed in perfect unison, with the Christmas music playing loudly behind them. The crowd applauded and cheered.

“Look how perfectly synchronized they are,” my mom said, “It’s amazing to watch!”

“They really must have practiced for so long,” Ashlyn replied. “They’re so talented!” I said, in disbelief.

“Maybe one day we can dance like that,” Ashlyn said to me, thoughtfully. We both love to dance, and for that moment, we saw ourselves up on stage, dancing away. “We can dream!” I sighed, dreamily.

Our favorite part of the show was seeing the real moving tour bus on stage. The rest of the show was amazing. We even got to see Santa in his red hat and suit!

During the Nutcracker there was a big brown bear dancing around while wearing a hot pink and sparkly tutu.

After that, we got to see the wooden soldier dance. There were so many of them all perfectly in line and unison. Soon the fake cannon came out and “BOOM!” One by one, each wooden soldier began to fall backward onto each other until eventually they smacked down onto the bean bag at the end of the line.

Lastly in “Ragdolls,” they were all dressed in red wigs and funny striped stockings. At the end they held up their boxes spelling out a secret message, “Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!” “Aw, how sweet. What a wonderful way to put everyone into the holiday spirit!” my mom exclaimed. We were all sad to see the show end, but it was a wonderful time, and would certainly become a wonderful memory for us.

Once the show was over, we headed back out to the loud and noisy street, where it looked as though the sun was beginning to set. It had gotten colder out, so we decided to head right back to the bus lot to warm up and get ready for our pickup. The bus ride home was full of loud and excited laughter and conversation. The heater was on and it was as cozy as could be. “I can’t wait for our next trip to the big city …” I murmured, before drifting off to sleep as the bus continued its ride home.

A Fortunate Accident

Bella Sanfilippo

There I was standing in the gym for my first practice with my new team called Junior Spartans. I was 11 years old and the bright lights and vibrant colors of the bleachers were blinding me. My heart was slowly dropping deeper and deeper into my stomach. Immediately I started to back up towards the door.

“I can’t do this. I just can’t do this,” I thought to myself.

All of a sudden I felt a faint tap on my shoulder, “You must be Bella.” A tall man in a baseball cap was extending his hand to shake mine. “I’m coach Kevin. It is so nice to finally meet you!” he said. Shaking inside, I tried to find the words to answer. I finally said, “It’s nice to meet you too.”

“Follow me. I want you to meet the rest of the team.” Hesitantly, I followed coach Kevin, still shaking, still nervous, but hoping that things would go well.

He introduced me to the team. Things were going well. The girls seemed nice. Then it happened. “Split up into two teams for a scrimmage,” he said.

My heart sank even deeper. I felt sick. “How could I play with these girls when I didn’t even know them?” I thought to myself.

“Each girl will shoot free-throws. The first two girls to make them will be the captains,” coach explained, “Each captain will then pick their team.” “Great! Who is going to pick me? I am the new girl!” my inner voice said. The contest began and we started to shoot. The captains were decided and the teams were being picked. I waited patiently to hear my name. Finally, there it was, “Bella!” One of the girls yelled out my name. With the teams set it was time for the scrimmage to begin.

At the sound of the whistle, coach Kevin threw the ball up in the air and my team got the ball. My team and I had a fast break to the basket. At the last second, my teammate screamed my name as she passed me the ball. “Bella!” she exclaimed, but it was too late. I turned my head to look, but my long brown hair flew in front of my eyes and blocked my view. SMACK! The ball hit me right in the face!

The next thing I knew there was blood everywhere. My teammates huddled around me to make sure I was okay. Nora, the one who threw the ball, rushed to my side. Her bright green eyes were wide with worry, “Oh my gosh, I am so sorry!” I attempted to console her, “It’s okay, I just need some paper towels!” All of my other teammates hurried at once to get paper towels. Nora, still upset by what had happened, stayed with me. Coach Kevin put an end to the scrimmage and switched instead to a team bonding activity.

“I am really sorry I did that to you. Are you sure you are okay?” Nora asked as she fixed her pink shiny glasses. “I’m okay,” I tried to reassure her. “I have problems with my nose. So I am not surprised this happened,” I said. “What kind of problems?” Bree, another teammate, asked curiously. “Yeah,” my other teammate chimed in. “Oh my nose just likes to bleed a lot. It happens especially in the cold weather,” I replied.

“Well that must be really frustrating,” Bree said. “Yeah, it is,” I replied. “So anyway, do you play any other sports besides basketball?” Nora inquired. “No, it’s just basketball for me,” I replied.

“How about you?” I asked. “Yeah, I play soccer,” Nora responded.

“I really like reading too.” I said.

“Oh, hey me too!” Nora said with excitement. “I really like the color of your eyes,” Nora added.

“Oh thanks. They are hazel,” I replied. “Cool!” Nora said.

Nora’s dad yelled to her from the court, “We have to get home!”

“Oh man,” Nora said sadly. “Well, I guess I will see you later,” I said. “Definitely!” Nora replied. “Time for us to head home too,” my dad yelled. “Ok,” I said. I grabbed my stuff and we left.

I hate bloody noses and especially when they happen in public. But this time, if I hadn’t gotten a bloody nose then perhaps Nora wouldn’t have started a conversation with me and maybe the team and I wouldn’t have bonded so quickly. So this time, I’m thankful for my bloody nose, because it brought me some really good friends.

Yosemite National Park

Gavin Woodring

I vividly remember my mom saying to my sisters and me, “I truly believe this is what Heaven looks like.”

Just then, I thought to myself that those words she said could very well be true, as I have never seen a place more beautiful than the park.

It was the summer of 2022. I was 11 years old. My family and I took a trip to Yosemite National Park in the Sierra Nevada Mountains of California. It was my second time out west, but one I will never forget.

I am fortunate to have been many places around the world, including parts of Europe, Asia, and Africa, but no other place, in my opinion, is as magnificent or as peaceful as Yosemite National Park.

We drove to 10,000 feet high elevations where we saw snow capped mountains and visited the beautiful valleys below with blooming flowers, roaring creeks, and a meadow with a lake that mirrored reflections of the trees and mountains around us. There was beauty everywhere I looked.

The air was cold and crisp near the mountains. “I can’t believe I’m wearing shorts but can see my own breath at the same time from how cold it is up here!” my sister, Olivia, shouted. “Me too!” I agreed, “This is the strangest thing, holding snow and seeing my breath while wearing shorts in the middle of summer all at the same time.”

“I’ll never forget how cold the snow is in my hands,” I thought to myself.

Near the valley, the air was warm and dry and I could smell the flowers. The trees whistled in the winds. The swarms of dragonflies buzzed around us. My sisters chased each other around the creek, their long brown and light blonde hair blowing in the wind.

“You can’t catch me!” they yelled back and forth. I felt as if I were in a different world at Yosemite National Park. One of my sisters turned to our mom, “Can we move here? Imagine having this in our backyard!”

“I would love it!” I replied. “I would never have any reason to want to be anywhere else.”

Our mom agreed and smiled.

Yosemite was filled to the brim with beautiful mountains, lakes, creeks, wildlife, lush forestry, and trails with scenic overlooks. However, it was the waterfalls of Yosemite that left me in awe of what a beautiful world we have. The waterfalls were majestic, massive, and made me feel like they could swallow me whole. I never felt as small as I did while standing there next to the falls.

I looked at my younger sisters and wondered how they felt standing next to them. I looked over at my dad and said, “You look so little next to the gigantic waterfall.” We both laughed. “I can’t believe we’re here standing by this waterfall right now,” my dad said, “I’ve waited a long time to see this.” After that, no exchange of words went on between us. Instead, we stood there speechless, soaking in the midst and wonder of it all.

I felt so much peace at Yosemite. The most peace I have felt in a long time.

On our way home I said to my parents, “I have to come back to Yosemite again someday. I’ve never seen anything like it before, and I never saw all of us so happy before in one place as beautiful as this.”

My mom responded, “When you see the wonder of the world like this, it is impossible to ever question how it got here in the first place.”

That reminded me of a stone plaque I saw when we entered the park with the words, “No temple made with hands can compare to Yosemite.”

There most certainly is a God who created something so grand and so incredible as this little piece of Heaven on Earth. I feel like my life is filled with so many layers of complexity, but it was within the forest and mountain walls of Yosemite where I felt most at peace.