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The Inukshuk

Note: I wrote this story when I was in Grade 3. It is all true. Looking back, I am appalled at the writing, even though it is touching. However, it managed to win The Month Ahead writing contest for the Grade 3/4 level in my area. I am proud of it.

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The Inukshuk is a special place. It is at the farm. An Inukshuk is some rocks piled up to look like a man. It is used in the Northwest Territories. It tells you where you are.

My Grandpa was a great person. He died and his ashes are spread by the Inukshuk. He died before the Inukshuk was there. My uncle built the Inukshuk to remember him. He has been coming up to the farm since 1970.

The farm is not a real farm. It is a cottage, but there is no lake or pond. We call it the farm because it is in farm country. I have planted an apple tree at the Inukshuk. It is only four years old, but I dream of a full grown apple tree. My Grandpa also loved the Arctic, he went every summer. I love my Grandpa and I love the Inukshuk.

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November 27th, 2003 - Typed this from a framed copy on my Grandma's wall.