We are reading ‘the Silver Donkey’ a story set in France during the Second World War. In this book there are many shorter stories – all about donkeys – nestled within the main story. In one of these short stories, the sky is personified. It becomes angry and sends a fearful storm to the arrogant animals. It is the donkey’s humility and service that persuade the sky to stop the storm.

We are writing our own version of this story. On Monday we took photographs of the sky. Each pupil took a photograph to see who could best capture the dark, gloomy clouds.

Jo-Lawrence’s writing:

The sky was alive.  It moved like a floating spirit.  It was fast and smooth.  Still, clouds are dangerous.  As clouds joined together, they summoned the darkness upon Earth and all of its inhabitants.  As minutes turned into hours, and hours  into days, the sky blocked the Sun.  Colours mixed in the sky like an artist’s palette.  Grey white and green mixed to form dark grey  clouds.  All of a sudden the temperature dropped drastically as if the Sun had never existed.  In an instant, thunderstorms punctuated the land.

An hour passed and the the sky spotted something small and grey plodding up the mountain.  It was a donkey.  The sky was surprised that such a feeble creature – one that had been abused and neglected by humans – had come to talk to it.

“I have come for the showering of the monsoon,” the donkey said, with fear in his voice.  As the sky heard these words, it started to feel sad.  The clouds parted, to reveal a clear blue sky.   The lion, the elephant, the snake and the dog cried with happiness.  The sky released its rain.

“You shall have the monsoon,” said the sky.  “The donkey has shown great kindness.  Unlike yourselves.  I will always be inspired by the donkey,” sang the sky.  The donkey smiled and trotted down the steep mountainside…