Revolutionary Stories By Kids
Let’s get your child writing! This is the place where your child can publish his or her own story about the founding of our country, or a story with a patriotic theme. It could also be a tall tale, a biography, or a report about a visit to a historic site. It’s a great way to motivate your child to become interested in the Founding or just a tool to inspire him or her to complete a writing assignment. Just copy the story into an email and send it to me at firstname.lastname@example.org. I’ll publish it in this section of the website. I prefer to use a child’s first name only, but you can certainly include information (such as age, hometown, favorite color, etc.) so that those around you will be able to identify the story as being written by your child. Then, your child can proudly show his or her “published” work to friends, family, or even a teacher. How cool is that? Below is my daughter Cat’s first revolutionary story.
Molly’s Revolutionary Adventure
Molly was a curious dog. She liked to poke her nose into everywhere it would fit. However, during the American Revolution that was a bad thing. Or at least it would have been if she had not had her friends, the pack, with her. As a group, they could stand up to anything, and they could get into the biggest messes you have ever seen! But for the most part they stayed out of trouble, patrolling the alleys for tasty morsels of garbage that humans threw away, and the occasional delicacy, squirrel. That was until one day when they slunk in on something nasty. They were strolling along their favorite alley when all of a sudden Molly froze, “Did you hear that?” “Yeah, sounded like someone fired a gun.” Her friend Biscuit replied. Molly shrieked, “I smell blood! Someone’s hurt!” and dashed off to find the source of the smell with the pack on her heels.
When they got there, whatever happened was breaking up, but there were a few people gathered in the center of the square, some of whom were crying. “It doesn’t sound like they’d notice if we went to see for ourselves.” Molly said and led the way, slowly creeping toward the center of the square. What they saw there made them all recoil in horror and disgust. The ground was covered in blood, and so were the five people lying dead in the middle of it! While the people around the bodies were clearly grieving, there were some men with guns in clean bright red coats and white tights telling people to get a move on as if nothing had ever happened!
The pack scampered out of there as fast as they could, but on the way they heard that this was called the “Boston Massacre” and the people with guns walking around the square were called the British, or the “Red Coats” very fitting, considering the gleaming red coats they wore.
Later that day, when everyone in the pack had gone home to their families, Molly was dozing by the fireplace and enjoying the last of the lingering warmth, when something moved on the staircase. Molly jumped to her paws as silently as she could and crept over to investigate. All of a sudden there were voices whispering, “Let’s go, we don’t want to be late!” ears pricked, Molly listened as another voice responded, “No, of course we don’t! The British won’t know what hit them!” a third voice chimed in, “they should have known what would happen! What, with that atrocious Tea act! They deserve to have their tea dumped, and all of it at that!” the first voice came back, silencing the other two, “Yes, after tonight the British will know not to mess with the colonies, but be quiet will you! We don’t want to wake the others.” With the others murmuring agreement, the first man led the way out of the house. Bursting with curiosity, Molly followed, ears pricked and tail quivering in excitement.
Molly kept a respectable distance from the men she was following, and tracked them mostly by scent. All of a sudden, the men stopped, “Did you hear that?” the second man asked. The first man replied, “You mean that shuffling sound? Because that sounds as if were being followed. Though it was probably someone picking up the tea, which means they started without us!” “How could they!” the third man whispered, his voice rapidly rising. “Keep it down! If we aren’t being followed we don’t want to attract others.” Muttering crossly, the men marched on in near silence. After a few minutes walk, the plants along the path got sparser and the noise got louder until they came into Boston harbor where they were greeted by some other men dressed oddly, kind of like Indians, “Where have you been? We were about to start without you!” it was the first man who answered, “in case you had forgotten, we met up 3 miles away and we couldn’t use horses in case we attracted the red coats who would have stopped this before it started.” This seemed to satisfy the other man, who Molly took to be their leader, so he just replied, “very well, we were just going over the plan, and remember,” he said raising his voice so that everyone could hear, “don’t touch anyone, no one is to be harmed, colonist or red coat. Don’t touch anything, or do any damage to the ship. We are only here for the tea. NO TAXATION WITHOUT REPRESENTATION!” and with that all of the men streamed onto a boat screaming no taxation without representation into the night. Molly scrambled along with them, hoping to catch some of the action, but the men were too busy dumping tea crates into the harbor to notice her.
Of course, later more men, in red coats this time, came into the harbor and the men were discovered and they all fled away from the harbor, but the red coats caught up to them and made them pay for all of the tea that was lost. A week or so later, when Molly accompanied her master on a walk they strolled past a group of men who seemed to be talking about something important, later listening proved that they were speaking of a revolutionary war, to gain the independence of the thirteen colonies from England, they seemed to be very dejected as though this war was not going well.
About two weeks later, Molly’s master left to go and serve in the militia and aid the colonies in the war. The rest of the family was distraught, and there was much crying over his leaving. After he left, there was a general gloom that hung over the family as it went about its daily business, and to escape the depressed mood, Molly spent most of her time with the pack, scouring the alleys for squirrels and Red Coats, out of the two of them squirrels were much tastier.
Many years later, when Molly’s muzzle was gray with old age and most of the pack was gone, Molly dozed by the fire, its warmth feeling wonderful on her aching bones, a creak as the door swung open woke her. She rose and sleepily strolled over to greet a family member and was jolted awake when a familiar scent hit her nose. She scampered over a fast as she could manage and had a shock of pure elation when she saw him standing there, battered, broken, exhausted, filthy, but there nonetheless, her master had returned, and that could only mean one thing, the United States of America had won the war!