The lion and the forest
Once upon a time, there was a lion living in the forest. He was an aggressive lion, which made people flee from the area. Despite this, the lion wanted some people to move into the forest. The lion was also afraid of guns and bullets. It rained well in the forest. One family decided to settle in the forest.
As they approached the area where the fierce lion lived, they encountered a man who warned them that he had left the forest because of the aggressive lion. However, the family was undeterred by his warning and chose to settle in the heart of the forest.
That very night, the lion attacked the family, injuring a boy who was sleeping near the animals and taking one of the family's goats. The commotion woke the family, and shots were fired in response.
By the early morning, the family decided to leave the forest for good and never returned.
READ MORE
Illustration supplied by students at Taageer Primary School, Dangorayo District, Puntland, Somalia
Fighting Words is working with World Vision Ireland to support creative writing activities with children in Somalia, South Sudan and the Democratic Republic of Congo. This long-term partnership - funded by Irish Aid - is part of a broader five-year programme that World Vision is leading to empower and protect children and women. These creative education opportunities can strengthen children's resiliency, build their confidence and contribute to the bigger objective of protecting children from violence.
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
Irish Times
2 days ago
- Irish Times
Aunts fictional and real matter more to us than they may know
In a curious case of art imitating life (or vice versa), aunts are a big part of my literary and personal life right now. It was nearly three years ago that I first had the idea to write the story of Dorothy's aunt Em from The Wizard of Oz. I wonder if my fascination with exploring Aunt Em's backstory comes from the five fabulous aunties and a significant great-aunt who have been such a big part of my life. My sister and I were particularly close to my mum's three sisters. Family gatherings at Christmas and Easter were held, in rotation, at one of the sister's houses. There was always too much food, plenty of laughter and more than a touch of chaos. Auntie Margaret's homemade scotch eggs became the stuff of legend. Auntie Dallas's trifle got bigger and boozier each year (she was named after an American GI from Dallas who lived in the village during the war – I knew you were wondering). When everyone had stuffed themselves at the buffet tea, the aunties set to washing and drying the dishes and wrapping up leftovers with terrifying efficiency. The pride in hosting was so great that we arrived to my aunt's house in Hull one St Stephen's Day to be told that my uncle had suffered a stroke that morning. She didn't want to cancel, so on the show went! Yorkshire women are made of strong stuff and none more so than four sisters raised by their mother, grandmother and several 'aunties' after their father left them. Relationships with our aunts can be as significant as our relationships with our mothers. In some cases, even more so. Many of us become aunts before we become mothers, learning how to hold and mind a baby, before gladly returning them to their parents. Many women I know who aren't mothers absolutely treasure their role of auntie, finding seemingly endless ways to corrupt their nieces and nephews. And we all have women in our lives who aren't technically our aunties, but who have always been there for us. In Little Women, Aunt March is a rich widow who disapproves of Marmee's parenting, yet ultimately has a lasting influence on two of her great-nieces When my mum died at the age of 48, it was her sisters – our aunts – who stepped up to try to fill the void she'd left behind. I still get birthday and Christmas cards from the two surviving aunties and, yes, there's always a bit of money tucked inside (I'm 54!). In recent months, I've seen my aunties more often as I make regular trips from Kildare back to Yorkshire to visit my elderly dad. Only last month, I spent the night at my auntie's. I slept in my cousin's old bedroom, where I'd once played Scalextric and Subbuteo with him. Core memories unlocked and held tight. READ MORE Several fictional aunties have also stayed with me. From the kind and caring to the strict and unlikeable, literary aunts are often childless, unmarried or widowed. They can lend a delicious sense of unconventionality to a novel. Jane Austen (herself an aunt) gave us several memorable aunts, not least in Pride and Prejudice with Lizzie Bennet's Aunt Gardiner, and Darcy's aunt, Lady Catherine de Bourgh, a woman with all the worst traits of the stereotypical awful auntie. In David Copperfield , Charles Dickens gives us the marvellous Betsey Trotwood, the classic hardened Victorian widow and yet a woman who cares deeply for her nephew. In Oliver Twist, Rose Maylie, the young woman who cares for young Oliver when he is sick, is later revealed to be his aunt. In Little Women, Aunt March is a rich widow who disapproves of Marmee's parenting, yet ultimately has a lasting influence on two of her great-nieces. Paddington's Aunt Lucy also deserves an honourable mention as the little bear's north star and his connection to home. [ Ripeness by Sarah Moss: A captivating novel about the unwritten codes of Irish social interaction Opens in new window ] Significantly less loveable are Roald Dahl 's terrible Aunt Sponge and Aunt Spiker in James and the Giant Peach; aunts with no redeeming features at all who are eventually crushed to death by the enormous fruit, much to the delight of young readers. JK Rowling gives Harry Potter a particularly horrible aunt/wicked stepmother in Aunt Petunia, and who wasn't traumatised by Jane Eyre's experiences in the red room, sent there by her Aunt Reed in Charlotte Brontë 's Jane Eyre. Whether fictional women who raised some of our most beloved literary nieces and nephews, or those in our real lives who have helped to raise us, here's to the aunties But one literary aunt who often gets overlooked is L Frank Baum's Aunt Em from The Wonderful Wizard of Oz . Left behind in Kansas while Dorothy sets off on her adventures along the Yellow Brick Road, it isn't surprising that Em isn't as prominent as other literary aunts, yet she is pivotal in Dorothy's longing to return home. Most of us know Aunt Em from the 1939 movie starring Judy Garland, with Clara Blandick playing the role of Dorothy's rather stern and brusque aunt. But it was from Baum's original book that I discovered a tantalising hint of a different woman. 'When Aunt Em came there to live, she was a young, pretty wife. The sun and wind had changed her, too... She was thin and gaunt, and never smiled now.' [ Girl with a Fork in a World of Soup by Rosita Sweetman: A short, lively and fast-paced memoir Opens in new window ] In imagining what had happened to change her so dramatically, I saw Emily as a hopeful young woman - the daughter of Irish immigrants - embarking on a new life as a farmer's wife on the Kansas prairies when tragedy strikes and she takes in her orphaned niece. Aunt Em's love for Dorothy is evident in the final - short - chapter of the book when Dorothy returns home: ''My darling child,' she cried, folding the little girl in her arms and covering her face with kisses; 'where in the world did you come from?'' Whether fictional women who raised some of our most beloved literary nieces and nephews, or those in our real lives who have helped to raise us, here's to the aunties. You matter more than you'll ever know. Hazel Gaynor is the author of The Lighthouse Keeper's Daughter. Her latest book, Before Dorothy, will be published by HarperCollins on June 19th
Irish Times
2 days ago
- Irish Times
Nadine O'Regan: An only child is a lonely child? We're sure about our decision not to try again
The other day our little boy had his first trial run at Montessori with me in tow to encourage him. He picked out a doll from a selection in a cart in the middle of the toy-filled room, dressed her in some snazzy going-out gear, waved his fellow toddlers goodbye and promptly tried to leave with her. As far as he was concerned, that morning he didn't attend Montessori. He went to the 'baby shop', as he called it. The following weekend, in case he hadn't made his feelings clear enough, he pointed to our neighbour's child in their buggy. 'Mom, baby!' he said, turning to jab his finger in the direction of our house. There are lots of questions you wrestle with as a couple doing IVF . But one thing you never think of – or at least I didn't during that tough period – was how it might feel to have a baby, and then wake up one day to discover that your baby, now a sturdy, funny and determined toddler, thinks that you having a second child would be a great idea. I met my now husband just weeks before my 40th birthday. Everything we have been given since then has felt like a gift. I didn't necessarily expect to become a mother – I'd never spent much time thinking about having children before meeting my husband – but once it happened, it was life-changing. I miss aspects of my old life – the freedom to casually choose to go to a gig, read a book or travel chief among them – but as a friend said, 'There will be time for all of that again', and they're right. I am 100 per cent in my mom era and most of the time absolutely loving it. So it's been a surprise – and not of the good kind – to find that even when you think you've won, there are still losses on the way. An only child is a lonely child? I'd never heard that expression before having our baby. But it rings in my head now: the fear of what it means for him that he will be denied a sibling. Even though we're sure about our decision not to try again, with age as a determining factor, it remains a complex choice and a hard one. I'm one of five children, and I grew up taking the idea of having tons of siblings for granted. I know we're part of a trend. People are having children later and they are faced with more stressors than before: high mortgages or rents, the question of how to care for ageing parents, and far greater job insecurity. Small wonder that from being a rarity a generation ago, we one-child families are becoming a practical answer to the impossible question of how to live well in these times. And besides, we're lucky. We have the benefit of a large extended family, and for all that our little fellow might miss having a sibling, he has undivided attention from his parents (and by undivided I mean we're ridiculous), more possibilities financially and the space to develop at his own pace, without the potentially controlling effect of siblings. READ MORE [ Brianna Parkins: Growing up without siblings, I knew I was on to a good thing Opens in new window ] Our little boy also happens to live on a street in Dublin where the sense of community is enormous. Already he has friends – aged from a sparky two right up to a wise old 11 – knocking on the door every evening to ask if he can come out to play. Looking for me at 6pm? I'm often to be found marshalling a colourful squad of pint-sized balance bikers on the avenue in our cul-de-sac. I'm surprised by how much it reminds me of how I grew up in the 1980s, where, in our small clearing of houses in the countryside outside Skibbereen in west Cork, we'd spend long summer days kicking a ball around, fashioning goalposts from jumpers, playing hopscotch, picking blackberries, cycling bikes and going on exciting adventures, daring each other to climb up trees and jump from walls, and coming in at the end of the day sweaty and happy and thoroughly spent. [ June Shannon: Having children is expensive. Having them in Ireland is incredibly expensive Opens in new window ] At our neighbourhood street party in Dublin recently, flower decorations were wound around the trees, there were trestle tables heaped with platters of salad and cream cakes supplied by the neighbours, there was giant Jenga for the kids, a petting zoo and a bagpipes-led parade. There was an egg-and-spoon race, street bowling, a barbecue, a dog show and competition (all charges of favouritism hotly disputed) and a tug-of-war between odd and evenly-numbered houses. There was no kid there who didn't have a smile on their face at the end of the day. For the adults, a singsong went on well into the night. [ Why we need to bring back 'risky play' for children Opens in new window ] John McGahern has a line in one of his books, that happiness is best recognised in retrospect. That may be true. But it's also worth trying to recognise happiness in the present moment. There are many ways to find ties that bind. Sarah Moss returns next week
Irish Times
2 days ago
- Irish Times
My mother's plan to leave her house to my sister and I could create more problems than solutions
My mother's will currently leaves her home equally to my sister and I. My mother has minimal alternative assets. My sister lives with my mum. I am wondering if the home is left jointly to myself and my sister and my sister buys me out, will she be liable for CAT on her portion of the inheritance? it is unlikely for my sister to be able to raise the funds to cover the market value of 50 per cent of the property . Although I myself have a sizeable mortgage and significant dependents, it is not in my interest to see my sister and her children homeless . Furthermore I have doubts on how practical it would be for my sister to vacate the property if it was needed to be sold to execute the will. READ MORE I am concerned that I end up with a large liability from an asset that, in reality, I have no access to or ability to sell. Is it possible to say during the probate period that I don't want 50 per cent of the property, can I just have 25 per cent, and if so what are the tax implications? Ms BW Families are complicated things – deeply intertwined, generally emotionally interdependent and, for all the familiarity, inevitably unique one from the other in subtle ways. And that's very much how it is here. Your mother's home is more or less the sum total of what she will leave behind and she is understandably keen that it should be shared between her two children. The fact that your sister lives there with her own family is, somewhat depressingly, no longer as unusual as we would like to think it should be. Bad luck in love, in business or in life means many of us are not as independent as we would have expected to be well into our adult lives. But it does certainly complicate things. There seem to be two distinct issues here – the initial inheritance and then how you two can find a workable solution. As of now, a person can receive an inheritance of up to €400,000 from their parents. Assuming neither of you inherited from your father or benefited from a valuable financial or other gift – something over the value of €3,000 in any one year – then you have the full inheritance tax-free limit to play with. So, as long as your mother's property is not worth more than €800,000, there should be no question of capital acquisitions tax (CAT), better known as inheritance tax, for either of you. [ Inheritance tax: How to avoid leaving your loved ones with a hefty bill Opens in new window ] If it is worth more than that, however, then you will have a tax liability – 33 per cent of anything above your personal limit. So if the property is worth, say, €950,000, your half share would be worth €475,000. You would pay 33 per cent tax on the €75,000 of value above your tax-free threshold – a bill of €24,750 each. Unless you both have ready access to that sort of cash, then you would be looking at having to sell the property and paying the tax owed. Your sister would have a net €450,000 to go and find a home thereafter and you would have your inheritance in cash of the same amount with no further tax owing on it. But let's assume the property is worth less than €800,000. What then? In simple terms, congratulations, you are joint owners of your mother's house. If you simply retain your interest in the house as an asset, there is no issue. When it is eventually sold, you will receive half the proceeds and your only 'liability' will be that any increase in value over the time you inherited it will be subject to capital gains tax – again at 33 per cent. There would need to be agreement between you and your sister, preferably in writing, that any running costs, regular maintenance, utility bills, local property tax etc would be met by her as they are her living costs, not yours. But what if your own financial circumstances dictate that you really need to get access to your inheritance or some of it? You say your sister would most likely not qualify for a mortgage to buy out your half: perhaps she could buy out a smaller portion, leaving you with reduced ownership of the property and some cash in hand. That would not leave her with any tax issues apart from a modest stamp duty bill. And, as it will be her family home, there will be no tax issues when she eventually sells it either. You could agree a staged purchase of your share over an extended period to make it more affordable to her. That would complicate things for you as each stage could trigger a capital gains charge if the gain on the portion being sold was greater than €1,270 in any one year. And there would also be stamp duty implications. Or you could agree to sell the house provided your sister is happy that her share of the sale proceeds would allow her to buy a home elsewhere or the wherewithal to raise a mortgage on a smaller home. How practical that is really depends on how much value there is in this current family home. In a world where you, understandably, do not want your sister and her family homeless, the realistic options are to sit on your inheritance and consider it an invested asset, get your sister to buy a portion of your share or agree to sell the property and use the proceeds for her to start again. You say your mother's 'current will'. I am assuming then that she is still alive. If this looks like becoming an intractable mess but you think your sister could raise enough to buy you out of a quarter share – and you are content that the inheritance will be lopsided according to your respective needs – you can always see if your mother is open to adjusting her will. Obviously, the choice is hers. [ Who gets the house: have you spoken to your parents about happens when they die? Opens in new window ] Can such cases end up in legal dispute? Yes, they can where one side wants to sell and the other refuses. But, really, the only winners in that scenario are the lawyers. Finally, on your suggestion that you might just say during probate that you only want a quarter of the house, not a half, I'm afraid that won't work. It is possible to 'disclaim' an inheritance – ie, say that you do not want it – but you cannot disclaim and then try to rewrite the will to say I don't want all of this, just some of this or a bit of that. If it is a bequest – ie, half the property has specifically been left to you by name – and you disclaim, it falls into the residue of the will. Now, it could be that you are one of the benefits of the residue, in which case you might have to disclaim again. Disclaiming a bequest and/or the residue would not prevent you accepting any other specific bequest that was made in your favour – such as for a favoured piece of art or jewellery, for instance. But it would rule you out of any benefit from any of the residue – including any of the house your mother intended to leave you half of. You cannot say, for instance, I would like only a quarter and not a half. There is one way this could work for you, depending on how your mother's will is worded. As it is, you and your sister are getting 50 per cent each of the house. Assuming that is by bequest, you can disclaim the bequest. Your share then falls into the residue – assuming there is a residuary clause in the will. There really should be in every will, if only to account for forgotten assets, but it is not always the case. Anyway, assuming there is a residue and it is again split evenly between you and your sister, she will get half of your half, leaving you with 25 per cent ownership. In terms of tax implications, whether it is a quarter or a half will have no effect as long as the value of what you receive is under €400,000. However, if this arrangement meant your sister got 75 per cent of the house and that portion was valued at more than €400,000, she would face a bill of 33 per cent of everything above that figure. That could, of course, force her to sell the house anyway which would defeat the object of the exercise. So you really do need to think this through carefully, and ideally get professional advice. The one thing you don't want is this gift from your mum leading to family discord. Please send your queries to Dominic Coyle, Q&A, The Irish Times, 24-28 Tara Street Dublin 2, or by email to with a contact phone number. This column is a reader service and is not intended to replace professional advice
