narrative essay i will never forget that day

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A Memory that I Will Never Forget

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Published: Sep 16, 2023

Words: 625 | Page: 1 | 4 min read

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The setting, the journey, the encounter.

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A Day I'll Never Forget

Assessment model print, okay personal narrative.

This personal narrative tells about a day on the lake.

Title: A Day I'll Never Forget

Level: Grade 6, Grade 7, Grade 8

Mode: Narrative Writing

Form: Personal Narrative

Completed Rubric: A Day I'll Never Forget Rubric

Blank Rubric: Narrative Rubric

View related assessment models:

Student Model

A day i’ll never forget.

It was cloudy, cool, and rainy when we started up the engine of the boat. Mr. Jones drove while Mrs. Jones, Alysa, and I sat watching the grayish waves of the lake bounce the boat. We arrived at our destination and Alysa and I got the tube ready and put it in the water.

Alysa got in first, Mr. Jones started the engine and took off, as fast as he could go, through the water. Alysa started going sideways through the waves, she had a lack of pain on her face. she let go, then flew into the waves with a splash.

Now it was my turn. I had never been tubing before and I was not scared, but I felt a little shaky. Soon I was going very fast and my legs started hurting, because they were skiming the water so fast. After a short time I let go, because my arms hurt. I hit the water very hard, but it was so fun.

I got good enough for us both to go on the tube together. Mr. Jones started the engine. Alysa and I hung on for dear life. We were on for a while, but a big boat made waves. We fell over, so we got in the boat and headed for home.

I was sad to see it end, but I would do it again, very soon!

Teacher Support:

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Standards Correlations:

The State Standards provide a way to evaluate your students' performance.

• 110.22.b.5.F
• 110.22.b.8.D
• LAFS.6.RI.1.1
• 110.22.b.8.D.i
• 110.22.b.6.D
• LAFS.6.RI.1.2
• 110.22.b.10
• 110.22.b.11.A
• LAFS.6.W.1.3
• 110.23.b.5.F
• 110.23.b.8.D
• LAFS.7.RI.1.1
• 110.23.b.5.G
• 110.23.b.6.D
• LAFS.7.RI.1.2
• 110.23.b.10
• 110.23.b.11.A
• LAFS.7.W.1.3
• 110.24.b.6.C
• 110.24.b.8.D
• 110.24.b.8.E
• LAFS.8.RI.1.1
• 110.24.b.6.D
• 110.24.b.8.D.i
• 110.24.b.8.E.i
• LAFS.8.RI.1.2
• 110.24.b.10
• 110.24.b.11.A
• LAFS.8.W.1.3

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'A Lesson I'll Never Forget' - Narrative Essay

mtruninger 1 / -   Sep 22, 2011   #1 This is my fourth revision of my essay for my English composition class. My first three appeared to lack a point, as that is what all three reviewers had told me. I went a completely different route with this essay and was wondering if I could get your feedback on it. A Lesson I'll Never Forget The scream of agony played over and over in my mind when I finally tried to sleep. I found myself staring at the ceiling; every time I closed my eyes the flashbacks would come back. Thousands of questions raced through my mind that night, but one kept coming back. Was this my fault? I tried to answer it, but never reached a verdict. This is a lesson I would never forget. The day began like any other day; I showed up at the small, family owned mulch business I work for around 8:00 A.M. and walked in the office to examine what kind of work was lined up for the day. Staring at me was a stack of deliveries I needed to make. I started my journey to deliver the seven loads early that day. By the time I came back from my fifth delivery, the grinder we used to make our mulch showed up. I was always amazed by the size and power the mulch grinder possessed. Its powerful engine could easily shred a full grown tree in seconds. I was overly excited to see the grinder that day because this ensured I wouldn't have to wait to load up if we ran out of mulch. I started to leave for my next delivery when I noticed my coworker Perry signaling for me to come over. I got out of the truck walked to the grinder where Perry was at. I climbed up on the grinder, like I had done a hundred times, to talk with Perry and Zac, the grinder's operator. Zac told me they needed my assistance because something was wrong with the grinder that day. He wanted me to hold the powerful grinding wheel while they changed the enormous metal screens we used to size our mulch. The first screen went in with no problem, and Zac descended from the grinder crane he worked in. He grabbed a log nearby and wedged it between the grinding wheel and the new screen. I had never seen him do this before and was a little concerned. Zac claimed it was put there for our safety since the grinder was acting up and he didn't want the grinding wheel to spin. I looked over at Perry who was chaining the other screen to lift it out and noticed he was also looking at the wedged log. He turned to me and said, "You see that? That shouldn't be like that." I glanced at the log and noticed how furiously it was vibrating. I tightened my grip on the grinding wheel when he said that. Then, out of nowhere, the wheel suddenly jolted from my hands. The wheel began to spin, and as it did, it carried the log and metal screen with it. I shouted Perry's name, but it was already too late. Before I could finish yelling his name the screen was spun out and thrown at him. He was trapped by the other side of the grinder and had to no place to go as the metal screen raced toward him. He let out a painful scream, "My legs!" I flagged for Zac to shut the grinder off and ran over to Perry. The metal screen was lying against his legs when I got over to him. It took all my strength to peel the 400 pound screen off his legs. When I peeled the screen off, I could finally see the damage. His legs were now flat like pancakes and the bone stuck out his right leg. With only his skin holding his feet to his legs, the wind was blowing them around like clothes drying on a clothes line. I hunched over the grinding wheel in the most awkward position holding Perry's leg in a straight line, fearful the grinding wheel would spin again turning us both into mulch as we waited for the ambulance. The ambulance finally showed up and relieved me of the uncomfortable position I was in. I climbed down from the machine and watched as Perry was lifted off of the grinder. I could hardly stand because my legs felt like noodles from being hunched over all that time, forcing me to sit down. When I sat down my head began to spin from the shock I was in. Questions instantly started to race through my mind. Was this my fault? Could have I prevented it? What if that would have been me? I squirmed in pain when my mind relived the scene in slow motion. Each flashback I had burned the scene deeper into my memory. After the paramedics took Perry to the hospital, I went to see him. When I walked in the hospital, I tried to explain to the receptionist that I was looking for Perry. The nurse could tell something was wrong, as few words came stumbling from my mouth. She tried to comfort me on our walk to Perry's room. She reassured me that it was just an accident and it wasn't my fault. I still didn't know what to believe. We finally arrived at Perry's room and it took all my might not to cry as I walked in. He was doing better already, but his legs were still crushed. He asked for everyone to leave the room so he could talk to me alone. He said, "Whatever you do, don't think this is your fault. There was nothing you could have done to prevent it." But it was already too late. The questions had already been in my mind. I had gone through different scenarios and how it could have been different. I was finally able to go home that night but couldn't sleep. All I could hear was the scream Perry let out as he was being crushed. The slow motion flashbacks of watching his legs break were back. I laid in bed for hours thinking about it before I finally fell asleep. Not only did the restless sleep continue for the next few weeks, but the next few weeks at work were very different also. We had to grind again a week later, and looking at the grinder gave my flashbacks of what happened. The grinder's massive size and powerful engines no longer impressed me, but terrified me. It was not easy to walk and climb on the grinder like I once did. I gracefully watched each step I made, making sure I didn't have an accident of my own. Listening to the engines start was a constant reminder of the lesson learned, as all I could think about was the destruction this machine unleashed on Perry. Three months after the accident, Perry is finally able to walk without the use of any devices. The doctor expects a full recovery, but for now, Perry slowly walks with a limp. Last week he was finally cleared to start driving on his own again and frequently visits me at work. Whenever Perry comes to work, I begin to feel guilty for what happened, although a valuable lesson has been learned. Nowadays I use extreme caution whenever I am operating or standing by machinery. I've learned to appreciate every day I get to be alive and not to become complacent in my work because that's when mistakes like this are made. As Perry slowly recovers from his injury, my guilt is slowly fading away, but still, no matter what I do, there hasn't been a day that I don't think to myself: was it my fault? Any thoughts? Thanks, Matt

A day I'll never forget

The day was hot and sunny. I was lying in the front yard on my back when my mother called me inside to have something to eat.

“Come, my darling, and take a piece of a sandwich or two,” my mother gently called.

But, I was always a bit of an uncontrollable child – or might I say, a naughty child – when I was growing up. So I pretended that I didn’t hear her. As my mother is a clever mom, she just said: “Okay then. I think that you are going to have to go and buy bread. This time she didn’t say it so gently. This was punishment for not responding when I was called.

So, I quickly went inside. But, it was too little too late. The money was already in my mother’s hands. With a grin on her face, she said: “Better now than when you start to get hungry…”

I started to frown, saying, “Hayi, hayi, hayi, mama!” That is: “No, no, no, mama” in isiXhosa.

My mother’s wonderful grin turned to a frown – a big horrible frown! She spoke in the most horrible voice – I think she sounded like a lion roaring at its prey – letting me know clearly: “Amanda, don’t test or I will…”

Before she even finished her sentence, I ran out of the door, heading straight for the shop.

When I was crossing the road in a hurry, a car came out of the blue and knocked me out.

“Are you OK?” the driver asked with concern. I’m still not sure if those were his exact words because I was dizzy from the car hitting me like a bull tackling the matador in a bull fight.

By the time I realised what had happened, I had run so fast – like a horse in the Durban July – all the way home.

Until this day, I’ve never told my mother about this incident. How strange it is that all my mother noticed was that I was not hungry anymore.

She only said: “What, did you eat from this bread, little child?” I laughed, she laughed.

I will never forget this day.

FunDza is working to develop young South African writers and provide them with a platform to publish their work.

This is a great example of a narrative essay. For tips on writing narrative essays, click here.

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Composition: A Day I Will Never Forget

Back to: English Language Primary 6

Welcome to today’s class!!

We are excited to have you join our class!!

In today’s English class, we will learning about Composition: A Day I Will Never Forget

Composition can mean two things. It can mean a piece of writing, or it can mean the art and process of writing. 

Composition is not a specific type of writing like an essay . Instead, it’s a term that can refer to any written work that is true and how a piece is written. 

As a result of this, sometimes you might be asked to write a composition for class. 

In today’s class, we’ll be looking at an interesting topic to write about. 

A Day I Will Never Forget

My name is Sarah Adebajo. A day I will never forget is the day I visited Ibadan With my family. 

It was the first time my father had announced that we will be traveling out of Lagos for the first time. I was 9 years old and in primary 5, and we had just started our summer holidays. 

Everyone in my family was happy. My mother had gone to the popular Lagos Island market in Balogun to buy clothes and the Oyingbo market in Yaba to buy foodstuffs. It was an exciting moment for us all!

My father drove my mother, my older brother and sister and myself to Ibadan two days after we returned from the market. 

We had a wonderful time in Ibadan just as we expected as we visited friends and families who welcomed my family and gave my siblings and I plenty of money. 

The composition tells the story of Sarah Adebajo, who talks about how interesting her trip was with her family and how it became a day she will never forget. 

Explain why an essay is different from a composition.

Reading Assignment

Write a composition about your favorite food. 

Weekend Assignment

• What is an Explanatory Composition?
• List four important details you must include when writing an explanatory composition.
• Write a composition on a trip you will never forget. 

We hope you enjoyed today’s class. In our next class, we will be learning about New Words And Their Meaning

Let us know your thoughts and questions in the comment section, and we will attend to them as fast as we can.

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By Patrick Carpen: The Greatest Writer On Earth

A Day I Will Never Forget: Happy Experience

Suddenly, the telephone rang and I saw my mother pick it up. “Hello,” she said

Then there was a long moment of silence. Without saying another word, she clicked the receiver down. I looked at her through the window. There was confusion and excitement mixed in her face. I walked over quickly to her.

“Mom,” I said. “Are you OK?”

But she was as speechless as though she had seen a ghost. After about 60 seconds of deafening silence, she opened her mouth. “Get ready,” she said. Take a shower quickly! We’re going to the airport!

I had so many questions at that point, but my mother’s expression made me bottle them all up. I hurried to the shower.

By the time I was done dressing, a car pulled up. We locked the house and got in. We were headed to the airport.

On the way there, my mom told me all the exciting details of my older brother whom I  never knew I had.

He was adopted as a baby and taken to the USA. He was just one year older than I was. And his adopted parents were bringing him because he wanted to see me. As we waited on the corridor while the passengers disembarked, I wondered how I was going to recognize my brother whom I had never seen before.

Then, from among the crowd, my eyes glanced a lad who seemed just a few inches taller than I was. But his eyes were just like mine. His skin was just like mine. And so was his smile.

Suddenly, his eyes caught mine and we froze for a while. Then we ran and hugged each other.

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