“Silver Wheel” by my daughter
My daughter wrote the “Silver Wheel” as an English assignment when she was in seventh grade and I thought I would share this with my readers. I really enjoyed it and I hope you do as well.
A light gust ripples the outstretched sails like ringlets in the river. My dad bellows, “Hold on.” “Meg you do the ropes when I say tacking.” “Okay, tacking.” My dad spins the wheel and we are headed up into the wind. He cranks in the sails so we can catch as much wind as possible. “Now we’re going somewhere,” he smiles as he takes the helm back. My dad is probably thinking, I want to get this boat flying across the lake, and healing way over. We are all sitting rigidly, holding ourselves up by wedging our toes on the low side of the boat. Now my mom’s knuckles are turning white from grabbing the polished wood safety bar so tightly, because she does not like to tip over very much. My dad’s full brimmed sailing hat is about to fly off his head. The sun reflects off the water, like headlights from a car coming from the other direction. His well-worn-in sailing gloves are gripping the smooth silver wheel. The scent of sunscreen is hanging in the air. I hear a constant swoosh while the lake makes a path as our sailboat cuts through the water, and in the background a mute caw from the seagulls. His smile is wide and vibrant; as we speed our way across Lake Champlain. He slouches down and rests his arm against the edge of Second Wind, and lets out a sigh of happiness.