Rose’s New Art January 26, 2009

This is a little story I wrote in English around October.  We had to write a creation story, and I was going to do it on Crayola but somebody stole it before I got the chance to sign up for that object.  Anyhoo, enjoy.

    There once was a girl named Rose.  She lived in the small town of Kerrville, Texas.  It was a small quiet town where the breeze seemed to whisper to you.  The night sky was breathtaking.  You could taste the sweet nectar through the air.  The colorful flowers were gracefully placed across the fields.  Each star would shine and those were the times when you realized how big the universe was.
    Rose loved to draw.  It was her favorite pastime. She colored with charcoal rocks she found or bought.  She loved how she could let the world see her small town by just drawing it on paper.  There seemed to be a magic in completing a beautiful piece of art when she got the result she was looking for.  It made her feel like she could do anything.

    One day she was out in a meadow drawing the violets.  They were blooming and she thought the colors were exquisite. Suddenly she had an idea.  She thought, “Why can’t we keep the color all year long?  Wouldn’t it be intriguing to see how the color dances across the paper?”  She vowed that day that she would find the answer to preserving colors.
    She grew up to be a charming lady.  She was very poor, but most people in her town were too, so it didn’t matter.    It was time for her to decide what to do with her life.  There was a lot of speculation on what she was going to do with her life.  Some thought she’d make a good nurse.  Others disagreed, they thought she should stay in town and get married. 

    Rose knew what she wanted to do though, she was going to find a way to preserve the beautiful colors.  She remembered how the Native Americans would crush berries and plants to get color.  She knew she could use that technique to get the color, but what type of tool could she use to hold the colors.
    As she sat down to write in her diary she lit a candle.  As she was watching she noticed how the wax melted and dripped down the candle.  Suddenly it hit her!  She had sat down every night and didn’t notice the tool was right in front of her.
    She hurried to get some berries from her kitchen and smashed them.  Then she took a piece of paper and rolled it into a small tube.  She took the sweet crushed berries, put them in the melted wax, mixed it all up, and poured the concoction into the tube.  When she woke in the morning she found a waxy substance with the beautiful color of the berries.  She hurried to her easel and drew the berries with the beautiful color.  It had worked and she was ecstatic.
  She spent the next couple of days making the waxy sticks.  She called them “color sticks”.  They were beautiful pieces of art.  Some thought it was stunning.  She got on a train to try to get a patent on these colored sticks.  Much to her disappointment, they were already being sold.  She didn’t know about them because of her small town. 
    She ended up still being able to sell them under the named Roseart.  She now lives comfortably in her beautiful town where the breeze whispers to people and the colors of the sweet flowers dance through the hills.