Awahono School's Mini-Olympic Fun Day

Noa's Calf Stories

We have been working on our narrative writing.  We used the picture book, "Noa's Calf" by Rhondda Greig to help us to write our stories.  We were working on describing the setting and character, and we had to add details that helped the reader to picture the scene.

This is Ella's story:

Noa’s Calf   

Great black sheets of stormy cloud loomed over the top of an old white farmhouse. Clear spits of rain fell delicately through the air, and onto the rusty corrugated iron roof,  when suddenly, there was a rapid change in weather, and thick blots of rain crashed onto the roof, making quite a racket.  A wild westerly wind whipped up, and went flying at top speed through the valley,  causing the aged beech trees to shake violently.  In the paddock in front of the farmhouse all of the cows were everywhere at the same time, running around like headless chickens, and they all shared a look of panic and confusion as to what was happening around them.    

Throughout all of this commotion, Noa stared in awe at this remarkable weather, watching eagerly through the window, waiting for more.  Noa’s curiosity was drawn to one particular Jersey cow, who stood out from the rest, who looked like it was having a hard time walking.  What was wrong with this cow?  Lips pressed against the glass, Noa stayed as still as a statue, not moving a muscle apart from his bouncy black hair moving slightly in the small breeze, drifting through the cracks in the window.  In a daze, he moved his face back, still staring at the same thing, and pressed his hands against the the window. Slowly he drifted away from the window like he had wings mysteriously carrying him away.

As soon as he opened the front door, all eyes were immediately on Noa, as he cautiously stepped down the front steps and grabbed his muddy bike.  Little legs peddling furiously, Noa was a blur as he sped down the dirt track in the direction of the work shed where Dad could usually be found mending things.  From out of the blue, a tuft of brown hair bobbed up from the edge of the quad bike, up and down up and down went the tuft of hair.  Who belonged to that tuft of hair? “Dad, dad, come quick!”  There was no reply. “Dad, dad, are you there?” panicked Noa.  Suddenly Dad’s big bobbly head popped up from the edge of the quad bike. “Son what’s wrong, why are you panicking?”  

“There’s no time to talk Dad, because there is a cow in the paddock that’s acting different from the rest, we have to go,”  insisted Noa, tugging Dad by the sleeve of the shirt.

Lights flickering, the quad bike ripped through the mud, which sprayed up into the Noa and Dad’s faces.  By the time they had reached the paddock their faces were practically dripping brown with mud.

A strong stench of cow poo travelled through the air, and straight up Noa and Dad’s nostrils.  Finally the destination of the front paddock had been reached,  while the quad bike sped at rapid pace through the vibrant green grass straight to the cow that worried Noa.  The cow was making sounds, like it was in pain or agony, “Dad, what’s wrong with the cow?” asked Noa, on the verge of tears.  

“Ummmm I think she might be going to have a little calf,” said Dad, beaming from ear to ear.  

Meanwhile Daisy was lying on the ground bellowing in agony, when from out of the blue two feet appeared, then the legs, then the torso and finally the head.  And there was Noa’s calf. “What are you going to name him Noa?”inquired Dad.  

“I think I’ll name him ,” replied Noa.

They had just arrived at the gate of the paddock when the sun escalated over the mountain. It looked like golden glitter had been sprinkled over the mountains, and was being dropped right on top of Noa and Dad, and as the icing on the cake a celestial brush painted a swathe of a rainbow in the bright blue sky.  “Well this is a good way to end the day, isn’t it Noa?”

“Yeah, especially with the big chocolate cake that’s waiting inside for us,” said Noa cheekily.  

“Ha ha, very funny,” Dad laughed sarcastically Dad.  Off they walked hand in hand, both itching to tell Mum the story of the wonderful day they’d had.             

THE END