Sunday 27 April 2014

THE CURSE: DEVELOPING A PARAGRAPH


Using wh-questions to expand the topic sentence is one technique of developing a paragraph.  In the Malaysian English literature component, students need to understand and identify elements of interest in the plot to be used as textual evidence.  Students also need to give their own opinion in the concluding sentence of the paragraph. 



Samples of students' work...



Actual Display in the Classroom







DESCRIBING CHARACTERS

A.  Students described the main character's physical appearance 




























B.  Student's description of character traits.



Monday 21 April 2014

SIMPLE SENTENCES

What makes a simple sentence?  How else do we help students with little English language exposure learn to make sentences besides getting them to read more English books?

2.  It's a real challenge for the second language learners in my school to construct sentences most of the time.  Using wh-questions is certainly effective.  For very basic sentence structure, getting students to give information on WHO or WHAT (SUBJECT) and WHAT ACTION is taken (VERB) is extremely helpful.   





2.  A simple sentence can have expansions or information that answer the questions WHERE and WHEN.





3.  A simple sentence can also have more than two expansions or information, answering the question HOW.




4.  A simple sentence can have more expansions / information that answer the questions of whom, whose, why, how, how far, how long, how much and so forth.





5.  Just remember expansions or information can answer any type of wh-questions.  It doesn't always have to follow the sequence of where, when, why and how.  The wh-questions in the expansions or information can be in any order.


Taken from Mdm Sukeshini Nair's slideshow.


6.  When students get used to using wh-questions to help them construct simple sentences, we can introduce the  SSVEEE (Setting - Subject - Verb - Expansion - Expansion - Expansion)  or SSVIII (Setting - Subject - Verb - Information - Information - Information)  technique. 

To be continued... Look out for SSVEEE technique...


Check out these websites:-
Tunstall's teaching tidbits
Crafting Power Sentences 
Shut the Door and Teach

Saturday 19 April 2014

WRITING ABOUT A SCENE



In this activity, the students had to look at the scene and describe what they thought was happening.  Look at the two different techniques used.  One is direct description and the other, evolving a storyline around the scene.  

More on how to go about teaching descriptive writing.  See here.


Art by Khun Lwin

The fresh scarlet apples rolled like tiny crimson balls on the pavement as a lady in her nearly twilight years accidentally dropped them onto the middle of the hustling and bustling road. It seemed that the recycled brown paper bag that held the fruit was torn apart. To her great fortune, the traffic light blinked its eyes and turned its color into fiery red.

Hannah and I showed our empathy. We decided to assist the poor helpless woman. We crossed on the dim white zebra-crossing that looked like it had been there forever; moving towards the other side of the junction where the old lady squatted to collect her apples. As we approached the lovely motherly looking lady, we offered some help to her. She did refuse at first but we insisted in assisting her and she could not do anything but showed us her gratitude and sugary smile.

“Bam!” A powerful sound roared. My heart nearly jumped out from its place. It beat so hard it was like I had just been chased by a pack of famish ferocious dogs.

“Oh my God! Hannah, look! The same path that we took just now,” I spoke in disbelief.

We were one step from death just now. I reminisced  to the moment when I was waiting for Hannah earlier.

When I was lounging on the classic wooden recliner at the veranda, I grabbed some local newspapers that belonged to my dad while killing some time waiting for Hannah to pick me up for our outing.   It was like killing two birds with one stone. While waiting for her, it was better for me to spend my precious minutes by scrounging something beneficial or any catchy information from the news. While my turquoise eyes lolloped from column to another, the daily horoscope caption had caught my interest.  “97.8% is proven to be true!”   I thought to myself how superstitious it was.  However, I found my eyes continually searching for the Aquarius symbol – my horoscope.

The breeze blew as swiftly as the sweet melody of jazz music that could be heard from my neighbour's.

“The road that you might cross may become taboo for you or anyone indeed,” the oracle of the day from the news told me. My jaw dropped and my eyes widened.

“Jade, Hannah is waiting for you at the front. She has been honking her mini Cooper for ages!” my dad suddenly barked from somewhere in the interior of our house, irritated maybe. I grabbed my handmade knitted olive scarf that totally matched with my casual outfit and my little polka dot clutch and soon made my way to Hannah's.

''Jade? Jade! What's wrong with you?'' Hannah's voice pulled me back to reality.

''Uh, nothing,” I responded but my mind still remained on the car crash.

An aloof young woman had parked her bike next to the scene. It was weird as nobody else offered any help to the victims. The other motorists looked undisturbed by the unexpected event. A school bus and a few cars were just passing by like nothing had happened. The victims were both men and they were very lucky indeed for having just a few cuts on their limbs. The biker helped one of the men to get out of the crashed cars. While the other young man got out of the car by himself and also took out some boxes with him. She then later pressed the button on her mini cellphone, probably wanted to call for some help. Before she was able to place the mobile phone onto her ear she froze for a while, hearing a noisy siren from the police car that echoed from nowhere.

“Mrs Bennet, here are your apples. Let's go to a safer side. Come on Jade,” Hannah commanded. I was barely able to stand by myself. Was the prediction really true? My eyes still glued to the scene. Everything happened too fast. As I walked slowly to the pedestrian walkway, another boy on a bicycle did not realize he was heading towards the poor man that was carrying his goods. The quite good looking boy apparently was too busy staring at a cute girl next to the road. I dashed as fast as lightning to save the man.

For the price of saving the man, now I ended up resting on the hospital suite. Maybe the forecast was right and I should heed them every day.

By:  Diyana (SMK Muhibbah / 2013)

Leaning my head ever so gently on the glass window of an ancient blue school bus, I slouched on the patched up seat.  I peeked through the transparent glass intently observing the scenery changing from the boring never ending rows of local boutiques, cafes and chain restaurants to the most glorious shopping complexes that stood crowded in the heart of the city.   There I reminisced about the previous month which had only been like an imaginary dream to me.

“I am sorry to inform you Mrs. Thumbs that you have contracted breast cancer. Stage 4,” stated the doctor apologetically. I was stunned by the sudden realization that I have been diagnosed with a terminal disease that had haunted me since I was a child. The similar disease that took my dearest mother away when I was just a little girl on her way to kindergarten and it was going to take the life of her daughter too. The doctor explained that I have only a couple of months left to live. Two months to be exact to live the rest of my brief life and finally retire to being a lifeless vessel buried underground for old friends and close family to visit.

“I’m not ready to die just yet. There’re so many things that I have not done.” I managed to choke out. Begging more to God than to the doctor in front of me. My eyes swelled and I felt the warm stream of tears steadily pouring down my cheeks like a broken dam that had been holding a disproportionate amount of water for too long. My dark bitter mascara that I had applied earlier that morning was slowly melting into a puddle of mess as it smeared through my face and landed on my parted, chapped lips.

My precious time has finally come to an end. Unfortunately, I did not become United States’ first female president. It was something I have always wanted to be but could only dream of. The closest I could get to a government related career was a 9 to 5 job at the Newberry’s School. ‘Life is too short to be walking around feeling miserable’ my mother once told me. Now I finally understood what she really meant. Honestly, I have never felt this type of intimacy with my mother before. I could finally comprehend what she was going through in the last moments of her life. I started seeing everything in a new perspective, in her perspective. Everything around me just felt slow and deliberate.
A road accident abruptly erupted. An old capped man cursed profanities on the top of his lungs at another careless driver who apparently had left the crime scene, probably too scared to face the fuming driver or rather too petrified with the ensuing repair bills.

Amongst all the wreckage something peculiar perked my ears. I could hear the piercing sound of the police siren wailing, effectively warning people to clear the way for the officials to do their job which was to keep the citizen of New York safe and sound for the day.

As if on cue, a passerby at the side of the road turned around just in time to register that a speeding bicycle was about to knock down his towering collection of books but could not avoid the impact. Collided, both the man and the female cyclist laughed deafeningly to their current situation. Books scattered all over the place and daisies blown out by the wind.

I chuckled to the sight of this as it reminded me of myself when I was younger. Clumsy Thumbsy was my nickname chosen by my mother for me. Before I could ponder more on the matter, my bus finally began its motion after what seemed like an eternity for me which was really 3 minutes in reality. I felt a bit elated from my current condition seeing how a man could still smile even though losing his prized possessions. Maybe I could be like that, take everything in my stride and just go with the flow.

I took a final parting glance at the city that I grew up in, quietly muttered a small ‘thank you’ to no one in particular and bid New York farewell as I braved through the journey to my final destination, mother’s holy grave.

“Mom, wait for me I am coming.”



By:  Tan Poh Keng (SMK Muhibbah / 2013)

THE FISH POND

Read this story and finish it off the way you want to.  Try to be as descriptive as you can.



The Fish Pond

























The oval shaped fish pond stood there quiet and serene as the early rays of sunshine pierced the outer layers of the glasshouse’s exterior. The crisp cool morning air settled deep within my lungs as the shadows and light intermingled on the flat undisturbed water, playing with each other, the Lilly Pads watched on. They always did this, I observed,whenever the morning sun was able to break through the gloomy winter cloud. The many pads large and small spread out over the water’s surface,  green flat circular serving plates awaiting the day’s meal of sunlight. Only a  single delicate white flower broke the sea of green, the bell of the ball looking to be asked to dance but alas no likely suitors awaited,a symbolic wall flower. Most of the activity this morning was below the surface. The small silver fish, amphibians and invertebrates stirred into life, darting here and there as the light penetrated all the way to the bottom of the grey concrete pool. The casual observer would find it difficult to see many of them as they sort out security under the canopy of the Lilly pads. All this was happening as two young women stood on the far side of the pond talking in earnest with each other. 

What were they thinking?  Was there a problem or....... ? 

Friday 18 April 2014

STUDENTS' STORIES 2013


This was an exercise where the students had to read half of an existing story and conclude it themselves using the technique taught of Show, Not Tell.  The original story is Trip of Discovery.



Conclusion to Trip of Discovery
By:  Mohd Firdaus  (SMK Muhibbah / 2013)  


Another flash of lightning struck across the dark void sky, accompanied with a bolt of roaring thunder. With a loud frightened scream, she missed her footing and experienced a free fall down the ravine. She held Kevin tight to her chest, shielding him with both of her arms, hoping that it will somehow reduce the impact of falling on her precious son. With what seemed like an eternity, she landed on a rocky surface on her back with a loud thud. Sharp rocks cut her clothes and pierced through her spine. Pain shot through her whole body and she yelped out in agony. She tried numerous times to flex her finger but her effort was futile. Panting wildly, she murmured soft nothing to her crying son. “Hush my little baby…” She rocked her body from side to side to comfort Kevin.

“Molly, where are you? Stay still, I’ll find you,” John’s somber voice echoed through the air.

“I’m so sorry, little Kevin. Mummy will always love you,” she whispered and gave her surrounding a last look before her heavy eyelids drooped. Her body relaxed and her mind wondered about her son before exhaustion took over. The corner of her mouth lifted up for she knew John would find their baby and she would finally be in peace.

Holding his rusty oil lamp over his head, he scanned the ridge frantically while his alcohol-fused mind cleared. He had never felt this lost and desperate in his life – he lost the Black Opal and his wife on the same fateful day. A piece of jagged fabric fluttered violently under the storm caught his eye. He ran towards it and tore it out from the huge boulder where it was stuck. He let out a shock gasp at the sight of Molly’s limp bleeding body and a crying Kevin thrashing aggressively against his baby blue blanket.  With great difficulty, he descended down the steep ravine.

Regret filled his mind. By the looks of Molly’s lifeless body, he knew her life was seeping out from her body. Gently setting Kevin aside on the ground, he held her dead body close to his and repeatedly chanted her name, as though that would bring her back to life. He looked at her beautiful face one last time and climbed out of the deep pit, with a crying Kevin in his arms. By the time he reached his cabin, the storm had subsided.

He paid no notice to the debris around the cabin and strode into the house with full purpose. He knew what he had to do. He peeled off Kevin’s wet clothes and dressed him in dry warm clothes. He put him down into his cot, stuffed him with his favourite dinosaur toy and lulled him to sleep. He undressed and lay on the floor next to the cot. He knew Molly had always felt uneasy with him sleeping buck naked, but what was there to be bothered about now since nobody will be seeing him? After all, Molly was already dead, probably on her way to heavens, leaving him alone to take care of Kevin. Sleep was hard to come by but he shut down his wandering mind and forced himself to sleep.

With renewed energy, he woke Kevin up and fed him. He stashed all the money he could find into his wallet and packed all Kevin’s toys and clothes into a bag while he only packed a few choices of clothes for himself. He was a man with simple needs; he needed no other complexities in his life. Hiding the house keys below the cactus pot, he headed towards his old beat-up truck. He was giving his cabin away to nobody. Whoever was unlucky enough to be stuck in Lightning Ridge with no house but smart enough to look under the pot could have it. He could not bear to stay there anymore; in it were all the memories he and Molly had created together. He knew she hated the place, but he was too blinded by the need to be rich to even care.

After driving for miles, he finally saw an average-looking house and thought that would do. He fussed over Kevin, feeding him and making sure his clothes were warm enough for mid-autumn before he put him down in a bundle at the doorsteps with a note. He rang the doorbell and made a hasty exit. He knew he would change his mind if he had stayed longer. He felt guilty, but most of all, he felt empty. He loved his baby boy, very much indeed, more than his own life, but there was nothing else he could give him. All he had left was a few hundred dollars with him, with no other possessions under his name except for his truck and cabin, which both were in bad condition. He was thinking of going back to Sydney, but the guilt he felt over Molly’s death was too strong that it engulfed him, eating his soul away.


With a sharp turn, he returned to Lightning Ridge, to where his wife was brutally killed, at the bottom of the ravine. Saying his last prayer, he jumped down the ravine, soul and body uniting with Molly’s. He had made a holy vow in the name of God to always cherish and love her on their wedding day. Now that he had failed to do so, he felt the need to punish himself by committing suicide. The last thought he had was regret and hope; he would never have the chance of seeing Kevin grow up and become a better man than he was, and he hoped that Kevin would be taken in by a good family who would love him unconditionally and take great care of him like their own flesh and blood.

Conclusion to Trip of Discovery
By:  Fiona Aw Man Fei  (SMK Muhibbah / 2013)  

He darted towards where he saw the silhouette of his wife just to find nothing but boulders and pebbles along the road. He howled in tears while taking a blow of disappointment to the head.
“Molly! Molly! Where are you? I’m truly sorry, Molly. Come back home with me. Please..."
He continued to shout for his wife. His deep voice outmatched the beating of the rain and could even be heard by the townsfolk. Suddenly, a strike of lightning accompanied by a burst of thunder lit the sky like a chandelier. Then, something unusual happened that left the  towns people filled with questions. After the frightening burst of thunder occurred, none of the villagers heard anything more other than the beat of rain pouring down their rooftops. John’s voice was never heard again. 

While Molly, on the other hand, took shelter at a nearby bus station. She quickly reached into the pocket at the side of her dress and pulled out a lighter while collecting newspapers around the bus station and created a huge pile of newspapers. The baby cried out while she was trying to work the lighter. She patted the back of the baby in hope of calming him down and ignited the newspapers to warm both of them. When she was about to leave, she stumbled across the only person whom she knew in the town. A newly graduated doctor, Caitlyn Johnson. Caitlyn was startled when she saw Molly alone with the baby at the station. 

"Here, take this,"  as she took off her jacket and gave it to Molly who was now trembling in cold. Then she asked Molly what had happened to her.
 The Doctor told her that she was about to leave for Sydney and offered for her to come along. However, Molly declined. Before Caitlyn could even ask why, Molly quickly requested, “Could you please bring Kevin with you and raise him as your own son? There is nothing for me left in Sydney but there is still hope for my baby. So, please give my son a happy and secure life”
Caitlyn nodded, her lips quivering and her eyes welled up. Molly lifted the innocent baby and placed him in Caitlyn’s arms. She struck her hand into a hidden pocket at the back of her dress and pulled out an envelope containing the money she had saved for Kevin. 
“Please take this, it’s all I have,” she stretched out her hand while offering the envelope to Caitlyn.
“No, you need this more than I do,” Caitlyn explained while rejecting the offer, but Molly kept on insisting that it was for the baby. Caitlyn finally accepted it and ambled carefully to her car with the baby in her arms. 
“Thank you!” Molly screamed with tears pouring down her cheeks.  A very sorrowful situation indeed.
Four months later, Caitlyn came back to the village with Kevin. Caitlyn smiled the whole journey in the anticipation of  seeing Molly. However, when she was driving just before arriving at Molly and John’s house, a miner stopped her and inquired why she was going to the house. 
“Nobody lives here and the town is in the opposite direction,” the miner stated
Caitlyn was confused and was left speechless for a moment. She tried to explain about Molly and John to the miner, but he kept on denying their existence. The miner let her passed to show her that there was nothing at the end of the road but boulders and rocks. Unfortunately, it was true. Molly and John’s house had became a pile of rocks. Caitlyn drove back to town. She thought that they might have moved into a new house. When she arrived, she asked everyone she knew of Molly and John’s whereabouts but all of the townsfolk gave the same reaction. They all paused for a while, stared at the distant location of where Molly’s house used to be and left without a word. Caitlyn then headed towards the town head in hope of finding the answer. He told her everything, about what happened on that night.
A few days after the incident of the stormy night, Molly and John went missing. Nobody really knew what happened to them. Caitlyn felt upset and staggered towards her car. She burst into tears. Then, she turned her head and stared at Kevin. She knew what she had to do. After a night of rest at a nearby motel, she left the village determined to take care of Kevin as her own son.
“The library is open now!” 
A shout from a librarian suddenly surprised Kevin who was about to fall asleep on the bench. 
“Aren’t you coming in?” 
Jack stood up while staring at the 60 years old Kevin. Kevin turned his head, facing Jack and smiled. His smile left Jack confused in utter silence. A smile that had a thousand meanings. 



PONDE'S STORY

Aboriginal Culture Images



YOUNG AUSTRALIAN ABORIGINAL BOY  (Simple Tell)


Ponde was a young boy.  He lived with his tribe near the beach.  He would sit on a rock and look out at the sea.  He saw seagulls flying and walking on the sand.  Crabs also walked on the sand. Under the sand were cockle shells and these shells were collected by the women in the tribe. They used their toes to find the cockles.



THE YOUNG ABORIGINAL BOY  (Tell with a little Show)

Ponde was a young aboriginal boy who lived with his tribe on the southern coast of Australia. Most days he would sit on a large rock near the water to look at all the things that made his world.  Seagulls would stretch their long thin wings and glide low over the golden shiny sand. The sun glittered off the backs of the soldier crabs as they marched back and forth being chased by the rising tide.  The water would never quite reach them but it did with the cockle shells that lived under the soft wet sand where they could be easily found by looking for the tell tail pattern of bubbles that appeared on the surface.  Ponde loved looking at all the activity and was never bored with what he saw.  That day the woman were collecting the cockle shells for lunch.  Ponde watched on as the women pushed their bony feet into the soft sand to feel for the cockles with their toes.  When they found one they quickly bent down and scooped them up into their long fingers and placed them into a basket.

4000 YEARS BEFORE THE PRESENT   (Show)

The sun was not yet high enough to burn off the grey mist hanging low over the outgoing water. The lowering tide slurped back and forth along the full length of the white pristine beach. The tug of war between land and sea was gradually being won by the receding water.  The salty cool air clung to the low lying limestone cliffs, breathing life into the lungs of the new morning. Winter and the cold south easterly winds would soon arrive bringing with it the rains to quench the thirst of this dry sparsely vegetated landscape.

Ponde, on top of a limestone outcrop, crouched down low on his haunches, feet spread wide apart, balanced perfectly, relaxing while he looked seaward.  Through the salt spray he saw the women swiveling their bony feet into the soft tidal sand, feeling for the prized cockle.  Ever so often their toes would come across the hard smooth shells.  When this happened they would quickly bend down to scoop the cockles up into their long thin outstretched fingers, then with care, transfer their find into the net bags they carried over their shoulders.  This occurred many times during the course of the morning.  He watched on, feeling increasingly hungry.

By:  Alister Thorpe

SHOW, NOT TELL FROM MY STUDENTS




Before we talked about technique

Much better!


Before...


After
Before
After


And again...



And voila!



Thursday 17 April 2014

TRIP OF DISCOVERY

By:  Alister Thorpe


Kevin leaned heavily against the bus window as he watched the passing country mould into a kaleidoscope of pastel colours as the sunset approached.  Although his hair was thinning and grey, he was still fit and alert for a man approaching old age, but on that day his mind was a thousand miles away thinking about the reasons he was on this trip of discovery.  A rye grin crossed his face when he used those words -  “Trip Of Discovery”.   “Very melodramatic,” he thought, but at the same time the most apt way to describe it .

This of course had started a long time ago, not in a physical sense, but in the mind. His earliest memories, the occasional spasmodic flash back: a warm caring face, a soft hand, the sounds of a lullaby, still played with his inner soul.  None of it coherent, just there, always there in the back ground, occasionally resurfacing only to  re-submerge into the deep recesses of the mind,  nothing more, nothing less.

Kevin was born in a place he had not set foot in since his adoption over 60 years ago.  A small town called Lightning Ridge. He had recently received the letter from the government department giving the details he had wanted for most of his adult life but had been too afraid to find out. He didn't build up the courage to find out the truth until retirement .  After 40 years working first for a publishing company, then owning one, he felt less than satisfied with his life. In all those years he never married, never even got close.  In fact he found it hard to form any sort of relationship with the opposite sex.  Women scared him or perhaps more accurately the idea of spending his live together with one did.  He visited his adoptive parents frequently especially in their later years; more through a sense of duty  than love. Even with them there was no deep feeling of human closeness;  they did their best and he appreciated that. 

The dense thick forests of eucalyptus started to thin out and were gradually replaced with sparse Mallee as the bus motored on towards the semi arid desert town.

The morning sunlight reflected back off the seat in front of Kevin as he tried to focus his eyes. Stiff and tired he sat upright and looked outside .  The bus slowed as it entered the outback township of Lightning Ridge. 

The small town of Lightning Ridge is famous for its Black Opal.  It is mined in the surrounding country by digging deep shafts down to the soft limestone and extracting the milky potash that contain the sort after brightly multi-coloured gem stone.  Good opal comes alive when the sunlight strikes it at the right angle and there was some of the best in the world to found here. Not that you could tell by looking at this old dusty decrepit outback town. The place had an air of unkept chaos and the  main street  was in poor repair with large irregular pot holes everywhere some filled with bull dust. The overall feeling was of a  ramshackle collection of ill-constructed buildings in disarray. Miners or those who catered for them seemed to go about their business completely oblivious to the state of their environment.  This was a working town, no leeway given to aesthetics.


Kevin looked around in dismay as depression set in “How could this be?”  His imagination had convinced him he would feel like he was returning home; the place of his birth.  Nothing could be further from the truth.  It was completely alien to him from his city life.  A tight knot gripped his stomach; deflated, he stooped down and sat on the bench across from the bus station, his head in his hands trying not to think. 

The morning passed slowly.  There wasn’t much activity in town, this being a Sunday.  He sat there listless until reluctantly he dragged himself off to find a place to stay. 

“The Final Rest Hotel seems quite appropriate,” he thought to himself. 

The room was old but adequate for his needs.  Kevin flopped down onto the bed and closed his eyes. “What am I doing here?” He shouted out aloud. Tears slid off his ashen cheeks and rolled silently onto the well-worn sheets.

The death certificate for both his parents were issued on the same day some 60 years before. The details were scant - cause of death unnatural . “What does that mean?”  He had asked himself a thousand times.  There was so many unanswered questions.  Why did Molly and John, his parents, came here in the first place?  What were they doing here?  How was it they died on the same day in the same way?  Kevin’s mind was a whirlpool of activity  until eventually that evening he fell into a restless sleep, tossing and turning, continuing to look for answers.



Black Opal ( Geology.com)


The next morning he awoke with a start. The sunlight streamed through the dirty window, just like the day before in the bus, but this time without air conditioning.  It was  much more stifling and he lay in a pool of sweat.  The previous night's depression had vanished with the promise of what  the new day might bring though as he lifted his head to get up, it felt like the morning after a heavy night's drinking, cloudy and sluggish.  A long cold shower did not help a lot, but the thought of finding out what he needed to know from the local library and after, getting on a bus to anywhere far away from this god forsaken town brightened his mood somewhat.


Storm approaching Lightning Ridge

After breakfast, a typical country bacon, eggs and sausage affair, he chose to go for a short  walk through to the other side of town while he waited for the Public Library to open. 
His first impressions of Lightning Ridge had not dissipated.  He could not imagine parents of his ever living here.

After 20 minutes, he came upon a small open area close to a prominent limestone outcrop. The place was obviously used by the locals a lot as it was littered with assorted rubbish: plastic bags, KFC boxes, coke cans etc.  He sat down on an old wooden bench as he heard the far off rumble of thunder.  Staring into space he did not notice at first the young oddly dressed man sitting down next to him.  When his presence finally reached his consciousness, he was not startled but more intrigued or maybe puzzled by his appearance.  This man wore clothing that did not seem appropriate even for this place.  A pair of denim jeans hang loosely over his legs showing no cut nor form.  His shirt had no collar but was buttoned a third of the way down the front.  He wore an old fashion grey vest  that only provided a small pocket for a fob watch. The hair on his head was short back and sides in the old style and he displayed an unkept jet black beard. By his looks he would have been much older than 30 years old but for a light complexion.

The rumble continued in the distance as the man spoke.  “Hope you don’t mind if I sit here next to you. I don’t get the opportunity to speak to many people these days.” 
"Of course not,” replied Kevin. "I’m only killing time until the library opens. 
“Your’e not from these parts are you?” quizzed the man. 
“No I’m not.  Only here for a few days.”  Kevin’s mood lifted a little. “In fact I am looking for some information.”   Kevin almost felt compelled  to tell this stranger the reason for being there. 
“People around here call me Jack.” 
“Pleased to meet you, Jack.  My name is Kevin.  Come from around these parts, Jack?” enquired Kevin. 
Jack looked at the distant thunder storm for a moment or two before he spoke. “I was born in Sydney but have been here a long long time. I was a miner but... not now. I kind of do a little bit of this and a little bit of that to get by.” 

A sudden roll of thunder announced the  storm was getting closer.  Jack appeared lost in thought as Kevin looked on. The sky lit up and Jack's eyes reflected the brilliant flash of light that permeated the increasingly darkening sky.  Kevin took a deep breath. 

“I suppose you haven’t heard about a couple who died here around 60 years ago in unusual circumstances,” Kevin immediately felt foolish asking. 

Jack didn’t  reply at first but continued to look into the distance towards the impending deluge. “Yes, I know the story.  Everyone does.”  He paused for what seemed like an eternity.  Kevin sat there transfixed on Jacks lips.  “The couple lived not far from here in a small wooden shack on the out skirts of town.  They had both come up from Sydney like a lot those days looking for a better life.  From what I heard the man had been a lot keener on the idea than his wife.  Even in the early days she struggled with the place and its people. You see she was from a well-to-do family and had gone to university, a rare thing for a woman to do those days.  Strictly brought up she was not overly endowed with natural beauty, but had a pleasant enough face and a kind, caring disposition.  She had met her husband in a department store, David Jones, where he had been working as a shop assistant since leaving school at the age of 15.  First impressions was of a striking figure of a man, tall and athletic, brash, charming, not too articulate, but possessed the gift of the gab. “Could sell ice cream to the Eskimos,” his work colleagues would often be heard saying as they watched the way he wooed his customers.    

An outsider observing the two together for the first time would conclude they had little in common, but love is a funny thing. He made her laugh with his carefree don’t-give-a-hoot- what-others-thought attitude.  She paid him attention, when others thought him too much of a show off.  He loved that in her.

One thing led to another and she fell pregnant.  Parents upset, embarrassed, but the scandal was quickly contained by a simple ceremony in the local Methodist church. 
John had come up with the idea of going to Lightning Ridge just before his young son was born after talking to a customer who had made a fortune mining in Lightning Ridge.  Over the next few weeks, he needed all his selling skills to convince Molly to give it a go.  Finally after much soul searching, she reluctantly agreed as long as if he struck it rich they would return to the city. 


Miners in Lightning Ridge 1910

Photo LR Historical Society




The baby arrived at the local Lightning Ridge General hospital in mid summer on one of the hottest years on record, making the place even more dusty and depressing as usual.  Of course this didn’t deter John one little bit; his optimism rose almost as fast as Mollie’s hope for the future evaporated.  John was different, he immediately felt  free from the constraints of the city and his old job and looked forward to this great exciting adventure.  Mollie’s  immediate reaction - a prisoner facing many years in jail, release so far away it was pointless even thinking about it.  She often looked into the baby's eyes and shed a tear. 

“So, that is how it started,” Jack sighed and looked up at the threatening sky that refused to arrive. 

John built a small but serviceable shack for his family before he staked his claim on an area just outside the main diggings.   It took Molly the best part of the first year to feel more agreeable with her situation, however she never really accepted it completely.  She kept herself busy looking after the baby and performing the domestic duties as they were.  
In the first year, they really struggled to make ends meet.  Finding quality black opal was elusive with only occasional low quality fragments that paid for some of the bills.  The second year wasn’t much better.  Molly became more depressed and started to fantasize a lot about her previous life back in the comfort of her parent’s Sydney home; the lush green garden with its eclectic array of coloured flowers greeted her every morning as she flung open the French doors of her bedroom that led onto the wide open verandah.   There on the elegant cast iron table lay her breakfast, beautifully prepared by her mother ready to be consumed in this seemingly blissful scene.  Only a dream to help disguise the reality.

John on the other hand never gave a thought to his previous life.  He lived on Opal fever; still he was aware  his wife was approaching the end of her tether.  Day after day he toiled down his shaft, breaking his back looking for that elusive breakthrough, always the next day, the next day he told himself.  He so wanted her to be proud of him and not regret being married.


One early December morning, close to Christmas after starting a new horizontal cut, he was breaking away some loose rock with his hand pick when all of a sudden an irregular clump of material broke away from the rock wall into his outstretched fingers.  At first he could not quite grasp the significance of the moment; the eyes couldn’t convey - nay comprehend the message being sent to his brain.  In the palm of his hand lay a piece of indescribable sparkling brilliance  the earth had just given up after many millions of years.   Black opal.  The size and quality would mean they would not have to worry about money for many a year. Tears swelled up in his eyes and flowed down his cheeks as if the taps of life had opened up to wash away all the pain and suffering endured since their arrival.

He could barely contain himself as he bolted back to the shack to share the excitement of the discovery.  Molly was in shock and cried with happiness at the prospect of finally going home.  To celebrate, John, Molly and the baby held in their arms danced a little jig around their one and only room.  As they swirled and twirled John whispered into her ear, “Oh my dear, I told you I could do it.” 

“ Yes, you were true to your word.  I love you dearly,” she stated through the sparkle in her eyes. 

Late that afternoon John decided to look for the Opal buyer who came to town 3 days a week.  He knew he could find him in one of the many local pubs where miners could be found spending most if not all of their hard-earned pay.  Drinking was a massive problem here, for lack of other entertainment it was the favourite pastime and you frequently came across men inebriated, lying or staggering in the streets. 

John found what he was looking for in the Diggers Rest, Marty was sitting at a table surrounded by an army of miners playing Black Jack.  He was a supremely confident man who didn’t suffer fools gladly, a tough negotiator but fair.  His eyes broke away from the game for a second and noticed John standing next to the door.  “Oh Johnny boy, long time no see, come and join us,” he barked out. 

John without thinking obey the order and sat down. “Just a quick game and a drink, then I must be getting back.” 

The storm had changed direction again and was now closing in.  Jack sat there, eyes transfixed on the sky and said, “Well as you probable have guessed, the one drink turned into two, two into three into four  and with it the judgment of when to give up.” 

The card game turned into his worst nightmare. The loses started to pile up.  At first he thought he could manage it by continuing to play until his luck changed.  After all, he had found the black opal that day; surely the gods were on his side. The alcohol dulled the reality until it was too late.  Midnight and time to pay up.  The only thing of value he had of course was the stone.

Defeated he staggered unevenly home, stopping every so often trying to gather his thoughts. In between the mist of intoxication and clarity, lay the sickening feeling of despair.  His muddled thinking tried to explain away the lose as just one of those things.  He would find another stone, he said to himself, there must be more awaiting him deep in the bowels of his pit. 

As he approached the shack he could make out the silhouette of his wife, sitting silently on the porch. She instinctively knew something was wrong, one look at his eyes had told the whole story. 

A wail pierced the quiet of the night, she was beside herself, head bend low between her knees.  “How could you do such a thing. This meant everything to us,” she screamed at him. “Ohhhh my life is a mess. I can’t stand it, and you.” 
“Oh, pleeese my dearessst... I’ll do my best to make amends,”  he slurred.

He flopped onto the ground, dejected. A distant rumble signified a thunderstorm developing.
Molly's rage did not subside, she paced erratically around the room, picking up her son who was now crying.  Her eyes glowing with resentment.  John stood up and hobbled inside, opening his arms in a feeble attempt to comfort her.

“Don’t you dare come near me,” she screamed as she dodged his advances.  ”Keep away I say, never ever come near me again.”  

John made another clumsy effort to make peace.
Molly was having nothing of it.  She pushed him away violently.  He lurched back and collapsed into a chair.  Tears streamed down her face as she made it to the door running off with the baby clutched tightly in her arms......................................

What do you think happened at the end?