This descriptive piece is written by one of my grade 5 students. His description of his toy shelf is so clear that the readers can easily imagine the piece of furniture. He has also attached a lot of emotions to his toy shelf by describing how dear it is to him as it holds not only his toys but also bits and pieces of his memories.
My Memory Shelf
My toy shelf, which is pretty old with bits of dust on its sides, is full of memories. On the shelf are rainbow colored plastic boxes, each with a specific kind of toy in it. Some of my toys are broken, such as my Rubik’s cube, which has tape and marker stains all over it, and my paper mask, which has rips and wrinkles everywhere on it.
The shelf sides are wooden rectangles, connected by eight poles, which are arranged two by two going from the top to the bottom. That way, if the toy shelf is flipped onto its side, the bars would kind of look like a jail cell. The bins, which are the colors of green, blue, yellow, and red, are placed on the poles. They are placed so that the front of the bin rests on to the front pole, and the back latches onto the back pole.
Just looking at the toy shelf brings back memories. All of my toys have come from friends and family. I still remember how I got a gun called the Icebreaker from my friend for my birthday, pokemon figures from China, and Skylanders figures from my mom. All of my bins are full of toys. All my lego bricks from various kits are piled up in the big blue bin. I still have some of my lego creations, such as the hockey table I made in grade two, or the hover truck I made with my friend, Allan.
Most bins are usually filled with different toys, but some are filled with only one kind of toy. My least favorite bin is the lego bin. I mostly hate it because when I try to get some piece from the bottom, the rustling sound hurts my ears. Also, it is kind of annoying when I can’t find a specific lego piece.
Sometimes, after I play with my toys, my room is a mess. I usually get some help from my parents or friends to tidy up. But when there is no one to lend me a hand, I just throw in the toys, which make a whooshing sound as they land into the bin. Sometimes I would pretend-play basketball with my small orange ping-pong balls as I throw them into the plastic cups.
When it comes to the pokemon and Skylanders, I usually play by myself. I build a tower with my legos and pretend my fluffy snake “potatoes” are a fire-breathing snake and that the Skylanders are legendary knights, armed with red-hot flaming arrows and sharp swords.
My toy shelf has a lot of memories in it. It is not only my toy shelf but also my biography as every piece represents a part of my life.