Narrate a Memorable Experience

Prompt: Narrate a Memorable Experience

Sample Essay: Recounting a Memorable Experience

Tips: Techniques for Narrative Writing in Grades 4 and 5

I. General Outline for Recounting a Memorable Experience

1. Introduction:

- Introduction to the memory to be recounted.

2. Body:

- General introduction to the memory:

+ Time, place of the memory occurrence.

+ Relevant characters.

- Narrate the events that occurred:

+ What happened?

+ Why did the story unfold that way?

+ The writer's emotions when the story unfolds and when retelling the story?

3. Conclusion:

- Express the writer's feelings towards the memory that occurred.

- The lesson learned from that memory

II. Sample Essay on Recounting a Memorable Experience. 

1. Recounting a Memorable Experience at Elementary School

Someone once said: “One cannot live without memories, yet one cannot solely live by memories.” Memories are essential luggage for every person's journey through life. So, what are your memorable memories? For me, it's the memory of a time when I fell during a running competition organized by the Elementary School.

 Back when I was in 5th grade, I was the fastest runner in my class, so my homeroom teacher and classmates chose me to represent them in the school-level running competition. That morning, the weather was quite cool, the sky was clear, and the atmosphere was vibrant. The cheerleaders were all present at the schoolyard to cheer for our class's participants. My classmates even prepared banners and slogans to cheer enthusiastically, which made me very happy and gave me more motivation to compete.

The competition began, all participants were giving their all amidst the cheers of the crowd. With about 15 meters left until the finish line, I was in second place. Suddenly, I tripped and fell, unable to get up on my own. At that moment, I thought I would be the last one to cross the finish line. A few minutes later, the girl who was leading the race came back and helped me up, and together we walked to the finish line amidst the enthusiastic applause of the audience.

Her name was Phuong Ha, a student in class 5E, and we had never spoken before. Ha was a pretty girl, fair-skinned, with a bright smile and a very warm voice. She was not only a good student but also someone who knew how to help others, so she was very popular among everyone. After the competition, Phuong Ha took me to the school's health room to check if my leg was injured. Fortunately, my leg only had a small wound, just needed some ointment to heal quickly. I was very grateful for her action. She gave up her leading position, possibly the first prize of the school, to come back and help me up because the distance between us and the other competitors was quite far. When I asked her why, Phuong Ha just said that winning the prize didn't matter to her, what mattered was that she couldn't leave her friends behind when they were in trouble. Ha valued friendship more than the prestige of the prize. But in the end, both of us crossed the finish line and received encouragement awards to boost the school's competitive spirit.

Time flew by quickly, and now we are students in grade 6 under the roof of the Secondary School. How lucky I am when the teacher arranged for me and Phuong Ha to sit next to each other to help each other study. The more days passed, the closer we became. We solved difficult exercises together, participated in the school's artistic team together. Ha and I had many similar interests, especially our love for reading books. We often exchanged good books to broaden our knowledge about both knowledge and life. I learned a lot from her, especially the virtue of helping others in difficult times because when we give, we also receive, humans need to love and care for each other. In this way, a new community can develop strongly.

Phuong Ha often reminded me to be careful in all activities, sometimes she recalled the time I fell in the school-level running competition because I was not careful to draw a lesson and also to make me more aware. Phuong Ha is a good friend, the memory between me and her in the running competition will be a memory I will never forget. Thanks to that memory, we have such a close friendship now. I hope our friendship will remain strong over the years until both of us grow up and mature.

Back when we were just third graders, Phuong and I, being classmates living close by, often walked to school together. One day, as usual, Phuong came to my house to walk me to school. We chatted happily along the way. Suddenly, a reckless motorbike swerved dangerously, hitting my bike and causing me to lose control. I tumbled to the ground, shaken. Without a glance back, the motorbike sped away. I was hurt and angry. Phuong quickly rushed to my side, helped me up, and carefully checked for injuries. Seeing my pain, Phuong took me to school, constantly asking, 'Are you hurt badly?' and insisting we visit the school nurse. Phuong's caring and concern touched me deeply. He showed true empathy and selflessness, qualities that made me grateful for such a good friend.

Every time I recall that memory, I feel Phuong is truly a rare friend. That experience helped me understand my friend better, teaching me to cherish and nurture our beautiful friendship.

>> Explore more outstanding essays HERE.

3. Recounting a Memorable Experience with Former Teachers

I've always felt fortunate for my childhood filled with happiness and cherished memories, especially those with my family, friends, and notably with the teachers who accompanied me through my early years.

I still vividly remember my third-grade homeroom teacher, even though over the years, her image has become increasingly blurred. Yet, the memory remains clear of a dedicated, gentle, and loving teacher. Back then, my family was poor. Despite having a home, it was nestled amidst vast expanses of coffee fields, cassava, and untamed vegetation. The road to school was often treacherous; muddy and slippery in the rainy season, dusty and hazy in the sun. My school uniform gradually faded due to the red dust. My parents commuted ten kilometers back and forth twice a day to take me to school, but during rainy days, they couldn't separate themselves to fetch me. I walked home alone, sometimes reaching the gate before seeing my father rushing out with his trusty old bike. Upon entering third grade, I discovered that my homeroom teacher lived on the same street. From then on, we walked home together every day, traversing that road countless times... (Continued)

>> See detailed samples and other outstanding essays HERE.

4. Recounting a Childhood Memory That Will Always Stay With Me

My childhood was marked by poverty and hardships, leaving behind many unforgettable memories, especially those intertwined with my parents' toil and struggle for survival, years of laboring as tenants, facing scarcity of food and clothing...

Those were the early years when my parents ventured into the South to build a life, a young couple who married only a few months before leaving home due to the impossibility of cohabiting with the extended family because of my strict grandmother. After several years of effort, my parents finally planted their first coffee trees on their land. However, coffee prices plummeted, and our family struggled with poverty. Those days were truly difficult. My father persisted in keeping the coffee and planted additional vegetables to sell and support the family. At that time, I was about five years old, and my younger sister was three. We couldn't attend kindergarten because we were too poor. Every day at 3 am, my parents carried us to the vegetable field, where they worked tirelessly to irrigate the crops and weed them. Some days, my father tied up bundles of vegetables for my mother to sell early in the morning. My memories are filled with cabbages, spinach, turnips, pumpkins, and the ramshackle shelter with its resident scorpions... (Continued)

>> See detailed samples and other exemplary essays HERE.

5. Recounting a Memorable Experience with a Pet

I was born in a rural area in the Central region, where village life revolves around the fields. Thus, little calves, buffalo calves, and calves are always companions to us children. My family also raised two buffalo, a mother and a calf, which were very close to me.

Every day, after school, I would go to the fields to herd buffalo and bring them home with my brother. Saturdays and Sundays were the most enjoyable because I got to go to the fields with my brother early in the morning to herd buffalo. Watching them leisurely graze was fascinating beyond measure. During the planting season, the household fields relied on the mother buffalo to carry the load, plow, and prepare the soil; nothing was possible without it. On scorching days, the buffalo still diligently worked in the fields with my father, without complaint. That's why my parents always said: 'Buffaloes are like family members, diligently working to help everyone.'

One memory that saddens me the most is the day I had to part with my mother buffalo. It was the day my brother received his acceptance letter to Danang University of Economics. At that time, my parents were both jubilant and worried. Jubilant because my brother had been admitted to the university he had longed for, worried because moving to the city for education meant many financial burdens: tuition fees, rent, food, utilities... At that time, my parents were under a lot of pressure. In our village, making ends meet was tough; there was never much to spare. They loved my brother dearly and hoped he would study well to have a better future, so after much discussion, they decided to sell the mother buffalo to fund his education. Upon hearing the news, both my brother and I were heartbroken, especially for our dear mother buffalo. After years of being together, we had to accept selling her. The day Uncle Mai came to take the buffalo away, I was very sad. That night, my brother and I hugged each other and cried. Despite our parents' encouragement, I couldn't help but miss her. Every time I heard a calf crying for its mother, my heart felt like it was being squeezed... (Continued)

>> See full samples and other exemplary essays HERE.

6. Recounting a Memorable Experience with a Family Member

Childhood memories, whether happy or sad, are unforgettable. To this day, I cherish my pink mini camera as it holds a fading memory of my siblings.

Three years ago, when my younger sister turned three, she began walking steadily and speaking fluently, so I enjoyed playing with her. My father bought me a toy camera, its size comparable to my hand, adorned with cute wavy patterns. My siblings and I took turns taking pictures. I instructed my sister to pose for me as I practiced photography. However, she kept tilting and laughing, unable to follow my instructions. Frustrated, I raised my voice at her. Her eyes turned teary, and her lips curled in anger. Despite my loud scolding, she remained silent, pouting. Annoyed, I threw the camera at her.

- Ouch! - She only managed to utter that before burying her face in tears.