Student sample for assessment
Written by a Year 7 student in Pymble, NSW, Australia.
Two years ago my grandmother started forgetting things. At first it was small things — where she put her glasses, what day it was. Then it got worse. She had conversations she had already had with me. She asked me questions multiple times. My parents told me she had a condition where her memory was fading. I wanted to help her but I did not know what to do. One day I decided to make a memory book for her. I cut out photos from old magazines that made me think of happy things — flowers, beaches, families, rainbows. I glued them into a notebook and wrote captions under each one. "This is the colour of summer." "This reminds me of your garden." I worked on it for weeks, secretly, in my room. No one knew I was doing this. I did not tell my parents or my grandmother. I was worried they might think it was silly. It was just pictures and words. But I felt like I was doing something that mattered. When it was finished, I showed it to my grandmother. She looked through it slowly. She did not remember making memories like the ones I was describing, but she seemed peaceful looking at the pages. She kept it on her bedside table. I never told anyone about making it. My parents asked where the book came from and I just said I found it. Even now, two years later, I have not told them. At the time, I thought I should hide it because it was a small thing and they had bigger worries. But looking back now, I think I was protecting something. I was keeping something that was just between me and her. It did not matter that no one else knew I made it. What mattered was that I had done it. I had spent weeks trying to give her something that might help, even though I knew she might not remember that I made it. I realised that doing something good is not actually about being praised. It is about knowing you tried to help someone you love, even when nobody will ever know you did it.