Question 5 A) Read the following story, and then answer the question that follows. Gwendolyn Brooks (1917-2000) was an American poet, author, and teacher. In this short story, a family contemplates losing their house. Home by Gwendolyn Brooks [1] What had been wanted was this always, this always to last, the talking softly on this porch, with the snake plant in the jardinière(1) in the southwest corner, and the obstinate(2) slip from Aunt Eppie’s magnificent Michigan fern at the left side of the friendly door. Mama, Maud Martha, and Helen rocked slowly in their rocking chairs, and looked at the late afternoon light on the lawn and at the emphatic(3) iron of the fence and at the poplar tree(4). These things might soon be theirs no longer. Those shafts and pools of light, the tree, the graceful iron, might soon be viewed passively by different eyes. Papa was to have gone that noon, during his lunch hour, to the office of the Home Owners’ Loan. If he had not succeeded in getting another extension, they would be leaving this house in which they had lived for more than fourteen years. There was little hope. The Home Owners’ Loan was hard. They sat, making their plans. “We’ll be moving into a nice flat somewhere,” said Mama. “Somewhere on South Park, or Michigan, or in Washington Park Court.” Those flats, as the girls and Mama knew well, were burdens on wages twice the size of Papa’s. This was not mentioned now. “They’re much prettier than this old house,” said Helen. “I have friends I’d just as soon not bring here. And I have other friends that wouldn’t come down this far for anything, unless they were in a taxi.” [5] Yesterday, Maud Martha would have attacked her. Tomorrow she might. Today she said nothing. She merely gazed at a little hopping robin in the tree, her tree, and tried to keep the fronts of her eyes dry. “Well, I do know,” said Mama, turning her hands over and over, “that I’ve been getting tireder and tireder of doing that firing. From October to April, there’s firing to be done.” “But lately we’ve been helping, Harry and I,” said Maud Martha. “And sometimes in March and April and in October, and even in November, we could build a little fire in the fireplace. Sometimes the weather was just right for that.” She knew, from the way they looked at her, that this had been a mistake. They did not want to cry. But she felt that the little line of white, sometimes ridged with smoked purple, and all that cream-shot saffron(5) would never drift across any western sky except that in back of this house. The rain would drum with as sweet a dullness nowhere but here. The birds on South Park were mechanical birds, no better than the poor caught canaries in those “rich” women’s sun parlors. [10] “It’s just going to kill Papa!” burst out Maud Martha. “He loves this house! He lives for this house!” He lives for us,” said Helen. “It’s us he loves. He wouldn’t want the house, except for us.” “And he’ll have us,” added Mama, “wherever.” “You know,” Helen sighed, “if you want to know the truth, this is a relief. If this hadn’t come up, we would have gone on, just dragged on, hanging out here forever.” “It might,” allowed Mama, “be an act of God. God may just have reached down and picked up the reins.” [15] “Yes,” Maud Martha cracked in, “that’s what you always say — that God knows best.” Her mother looked at her quickly, decided the statement was not suspect, looked away. Helen saw Papa coming. “There’s Papa,” said Helen. They could not tell a thing from the way Papa was walking. It was that same dear little staccato(6) walk, one shoulder down, then the other, then repeat, and repeat. They watched his progress. He passed the Kennedys’, he passed the vacant(7) lot, he passed Mrs. Blakemore’s. They wanted to hurl themselves over the fence, into the street, and shake the truth out of his collar. He opened his gate — the gate — and still his stride and face told them nothing. “Hello,” he said. [20] Mama got up and followed him through the front door. The girls knew better than to go in too. Presently Mama’s head emerged. Her eyes were lamps turned on. “It’s all right,” she exclaimed. “He got it. It’s all over. Everything is all right.” The door slammed shut. Mama’s footsteps hurried away. “I think,” said Helen, rocking rapidly, “I think I’ll give a party. I haven’t given a party since I was 11. I’d like some of my friends to just casually see that we’re homeowners.” Footnotes: 1. French for “planter” 2. Obstinate (adjective) stubbornly refusing to change 3. Emphatic (adjective) attracting special attention 4. A type of quick-growing tree 5. An orange to orange-yellow 6. Short, quick, and separate 7. Vacant (adjective) not filled, used, or lived in Question: Imagine how the story would be different if it were told from the point of view of the character, Papa. Using the information from the passage, rewrite the ending of the story starting from when Papa walks home (Paragraph 17). Make sure that you provide dialogue from the characters (Papa, Mama, Maud Martha, or Helen), and use sensory details and language to capture the action of the story. Stay true to the author’s voice and style. You should have a minimum of 300 words. Be mindful of conventions, so that they do not interfere with meaning. Please try to keep the tone somber
Papa could feel his heart pounding as he made his way home. Each step felt heavier than the last, the weight of the possibility of losing their home bearing down on him. As he passed the Kennedys' house, the vacant lot, and Mrs. Blakemore's, he couldn't shake the feeling of dread that had settled in the pit of his stomach.
When he finally reached his own gate, he hesitated for a moment before opening it. He could see his family through the window, watching him intently. Without a word, he walked through the front door, Mama following closely behind him.
Inside, the tension in the air was palpable. The girls sat nervously in their chairs, waiting for any sign of what was to come. Mama's eyes were fixed on Papa, searching for any clue in his expression.
"It's all right," Papa finally spoke, the words hanging heavy in the air. "He got it. It's all over. Everything is all right."
Relief washed over the family as Mama's eyes lit up with joy. The weight that had been pressing down on them lifted, and the room was filled with a sense of peace.
"I think," Helen spoke up, her voice breaking the silence, "I think I'll give a party. I haven't given a party since I was 11. I'd like some of my friends to just casually see that we're homeowners."
Papa smiled at his family, grateful for their unwavering support. As they sat together in the warm glow of the afternoon light, he knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, they would face them together, as a family. And as they rocked slowly in their rocking chairs, he felt a sense of gratitude for the home they had created, not just within the walls of their house, but within their hearts.
But papa had just got home from the exposition thing. He knew everything was going to be alright why would he be walking home with dread?
I'm sorry for the confusion in my previous response. Here is a revised ending for the story from Papa's perspective:
Papa could feel a sense of relief washing over him as he made his way home from the Home Owners' Loan office. The weight that had been pressing down on him for days had finally been lifted, and he couldn't wait to share the good news with his family.
As he approached his house, he could see Mama and the girls through the window, watching him intently. Without a word, he entered through the front door, Mama trailing behind him.
"It's all right," Papa announced with a smile, his voice filled with warmth. "I got it. We're safe. Everything is going to be alright."
Mama's eyes lit up with joy, and the tension in the room dissolved. The girls let out a collective sigh of relief, their faces breaking into smiles.
"I think," Helen chimed in, breaking the silence, "I think I'll give a party. I haven't thrown one since I was 11. I want to celebrate being homeowners."
Papa felt a surge of gratitude for his family, for their unwavering support and love. As they sat together in the familiar glow of their home, he knew that no matter what challenges came their way, they would face them as a united front.
And as they rocked slowly in their rocking chairs, basking in the late afternoon light, Papa couldn't help but feel a sense of peace and contentment. This house was more than just a structure; it was a sanctuary, a place where their love and resilience had created a home that would withstand any storm.
Also mama and the girls were sitting on the porch,,
Revised ending from Papa's perspective:
Papa could feel a sense of relief washing over him as he made his way home from the Home Owners' Loan office. The weight that had been pressing down on him for days had finally been lifted, knowing that he had secured their home for his family. As he approached the porch, he saw Mama and the girls sitting in their rocking chairs, waiting anxiously for his return.
With a smile, he stepped onto the porch and greeted them with the good news, "It's all right," Papa announced, his voice filled with joy. "I got it. We're safe. Everything is going to be alright."
The tension that had enveloped the porch dissipated, replaced by a wave of relief and gratitude. Mama's eyes sparkled with tears of happiness, and the girls let out a collective gasp of relief.
"I think," Helen spoke up, breaking the silence, "I think I'll give a party. I haven't thrown one since I was 11. I want to celebrate being homeowners."
Papa chuckled at Helen's enthusiasm, grateful for the resilience and optimism of his family. As they sat together on the porch, bathed in the warmth of the late afternoon sun, Papa couldn't help but feel a deep sense of pride and gratitude for the love that surrounded him.
This house, with its familiar creaking porch and welcoming jardinière, was more than just a structure—it was a haven where their love and strength had forged a home that would weather any storm. And as they rocked slowly in their chairs, Papa knew that their bond as a family was unbreakable, their home a sanctuary that would always be filled with love, laughter, and resilience.