BBC每年会举办一个面向5-13岁小朋友的500字小故事作文比赛（BBC Radio 2’s 500 words short story writing competition）。孩子可以异想天开、天马行空，主要看孩子们的想象力和创造力，而非语法和拼写的正确与否。写好后上传到BBC网站即可（家长或学校老师都可以注册账号登录网站），重在参与，对于孩子来说是一次很好的锻炼机会。目的是为了激发小朋友对阅读和写作的兴趣，现在这是全球最有影响力的小朋友故事写作比赛，每年有十几万儿童参加。这个比赛规定小朋友提交的参赛作品的单词数不得超过500个。而获奖者的作品会被一个大明星读出来，这对孩子而言非常有吸引力。我们先来精通五国语言的剑桥学霸——抖森（Tom Hiddleston）来给大家朗读示范，一个10岁小姑凉的获奖作品——《时光之沙》（The Sands of Time）。这是一个温情而戳心的小故事，孩子使用了”描写、明喻、暗喻“的修辞方式讲述了一个患老年痴呆症的老人的记忆。抖森的声音也太迷人。“Kathryn, Kathryn?” repeated the call, interrupting my thoughts.I can feel the warm rays of searing sun beating down on me. There is not one single fluffy cloud in the tranquil, cornflower sky. Below, the sea is a picture of perfect calm; little waves washing onto unspoiled, golden sands. The smell of sharp, salty sea stings my nostrils and everything seems wonderful with my lovely family here.A delightful picnic is packed carefully in the boot of our trusty, red car. All the same, I can’t help feeling something’s not quite right. Everything seems sort of hazy.Never mind, I’m not going to dwell on it, especially now Dad’s unpacking our glorious lunch. We’re allowed to tuck in, so I sprint over and begin eating before my two greedy elder brothers devour it all!Yet still there’s that nagging feeling at the back of my mind, but I’m choosing to ignore it and go for a relaxing swim.It’s so peaceful out here. I close my eyes and lie back comfortably on my lilo listening to the screech of gulls overhead. I can see my family enjoying themselves on the beach. I don’t know why I was so worried. Everything’s fine, just fine. My eyes grow heavy as I’m overcome with tiredness. My eyelids start to droop…After what seems only a few minutes, I awake and stare in horror at the blurred horizon. A mist seems to have descended, swiftly enveloping me. I peer frantically for my beloved family; waving, screaming at the top of my voice but it’s futile.They can’t hear me. They can’t see me. It’s too late. The mist has now engulfed them. Salty tears begin streaming down my face. Uncontrollably.“Kathryn, dear. It’s your granddaughter!” announced the care worker cheerily, gently shaking granny’s arm.She just sits there. Indifferent. Her frail, wrinkled hands tremble, oblivious to the world around her. She looks at me blankly as though she doesn’t know me. Maybe she doesn’t anymore.It’s hard to remember my dear granny without dementia. It’s only been a few years since it all began; yet it seems like forever.Sometimes I ask mum what she was like before but it’s not the same as really knowing her. Despite this I love her just the same. She squeezes me tightly as though she’ll never let go, perhaps an indication as to how loving she once was.Experts say it’s important to engage and stimulate people with dementia, by looking through photos or even just having conversations. Suddenly I remember the cardboard box of old photos I used to enjoy looking at when I was little.With renewed interest, I rush to get them from under her bed and blow off the thick covering of dust. That’s when I see it – a picture of my granny in her youth, surrounded by her family, standing grinning happily up at the camera on a beautiful beach.A flicker of recollection momentarily passes across her face...没关系，再来一个由卷福朗读的9岁以下组别的小朋友的作品。这是一个关于回忆、历史和战争的故事， 通过对祖母的描写寄托亲情的依恋。卷福的演绎，增加其中的情感浓度，孩子的使用了“show don't tell”的英文写作技巧，非常的巧妙。
Should-Be's by Juliette Lea
The crackling of the fire startled me. It was a cold winter’s morning when the snowflakes danced around you and the crocuses fluttered in the stormy wind. My grandmother smiled sadly at me again. It was the 11th of November. Her white apron was patched with mud and she still had soil beneath her fingernails. Some wet petals were stuck to her black dress. She had been to the Memorial to plant more flowers. I didn’t know what was wrong: maybe it was because she had lost a button on one of her boots.She always said: “We have to remember those that died for us; without them, we wouldn’t be here.” But strangely, she did not say that today. There was something else bothering her. She was telling me a story about snowdrops popping out of the ground like messengers going around telling everyone that spring was back. I don’t know why she doesn’t tell me stories about winter anymore. But somehow winter seemed more real to me. I could feel the cold of winter but I could barely remember the warmth of the first summer day.My grand-mother was still upset the next morning when she finally came out of her office. She was a historian and always spent a lot of time there amongst her books. For breakfast, she put some fig jam on my toast instead of honey. I would have liked some of the apricot jam she had described in one of her stories. When she stood up, a piece of scrunched-up paper fell from her pocket. I picked it up for her and saw a word written on it : “Should-be’s”. I asked her what the strange word meant but she just walked out of the house crumpling the paper at the bottom of her pocket.I knew it wasn’t right. I knew she would be cross with me again but I had to find out what “Should-be’s” were and why she was so secretive this particular morning. So I crept into her office. The smell of lavender reassured me. It smelled like the handkerchief that she uses to wipe honey off my face. The office had piles of history books but they were no longer neatly put on the shelves; she had spread them on the floor and, on each of them, had crossed out the word “history” and replaced it with “fiction”.On her desk, wide open, was a volume about the First World War; she had scored out 1918 and replaced it by 1919 on every page. In the margin with her thin handwriting I read with growing horror: “For the war did not end in 1918. My father never came back from France. We are Should-be’s; we are the souls of the ones who should have been born when the war was over and November is our only month. We have never seen the golden daffodils bloom, nor has the warmth of the sun ever tanned our skin…”
正常来说，孩子从小学到中学，写作水平应该是持续提高的，但是可能会受到转到新学校和新环境的影响，提高的速度可能会下降。写作能力本就是一个持续渐进的过程，需要经过长期不间断的训练，才会看得出进步。在英语为母语的国家，写作不仅仅是英语课的基础能力，更是一种工具，贯穿于各个科目之间。但写作本身是一件棘手的事，不仅仅要求书写、拼写、语法和标点，还有写作本身的人物、故事、情节等等，加上语言的障碍，让英语非母语的孩子难上加难。
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