remember to tell her that last thing at night before I went off to sleep. Mum had always told me the same thing at bedtime; Dad too, when he was home. I always loved them saying it. And now it comforted me to be saying it to Oona each night, helped me to put the past behind me, and to come to terms with my new life in the jungle with Oona. Of course I didn’t expect any kind of response from her to anything I’d said. I did think sometimes, that an occasional, ‘Love you too,’ would have been nice. But it never happened. There was one time though, when she did reply, in a sort of a way, in a most surprising way actually. I’d just said my ‘goodnight, love you’, when she let out one of the longest, loudest farts I had ever heard in all my life. I’d known her long enough by now to know she was a frequent farter, but this particular one was truly the most magnificent fart of all farts, and musical too, one that seemed to go on and on interminably. I could hear my own giggling echoing through the trees long after I’d finished. I remember I’d always giggled with Bart and Tonk and Charlie when someone let off in school assembly, even when we knew we’d get into trouble with Big Mac. I don’t know why, but when it came to farts I was a helpless giggler, I could never stop myself. Now out here in the jungle there was no need to stop myself, no Big Mac to keep me in at playtime. There wasn’t any real need to stop myself either when my laughter turned to tears, as it so often had done since I’d been in the jungle with Oona. I could tell it upset her when I cried, so I did my best not to. I promised her so often that I wouldn’t cry again, but it was a promise I was still struggling to keep. I went on promising her all the same, because I knew that one day if I promised it often enough, it would help me to make it happen. “I’m not going to cry, Oona.” I’d hold her trunk between my hands, close my eyes, and tell her yet again. “I’m not going to think of them. I mean it this time. I really mean it. I promise. I promise. I promise.” Every night during those early times with Oona, I tried to keep that promise, and there were many nights when I failed. There were no weeks and months for me any more, not in this place, only days, and the long long nights. Whenever I saw a glimpse of the moon through the trees above, I’d think about where I’d seen it before, through the window at home, out camping with Dad. It was these nights I hated most, for it was then that, however much I tried, the old griefs would come welling up inside me again. All I could do then was give myself up to tears. In some strange way though, I found the discomfort of having to sleep rough in the jungle each night did help to distract me from the sadnesses In November 2016 Michael Morpurgo won the J M Barrie Award for his contribution to children’s literature.This award is given every year by Action for Children’s Arts to a “children’s arts practitioner” whose lifetime’s work has delighted children and will stand the test of time.

In 2016 Samuel Adamson adapted it for the stage, in a production at the Regent's Park Open Air Theatre. [5] References [ edit ] For more information about the work of Farms for City Children, please visit www.farmsforcitychildren.org A son and grandson of actors, Michael has acting in his blood and enjoys collaborating and performing live adaptations of his books at festivals, concerts and theatres. This is a great resource about a great man and our year 6 very much enjoyed learning about Michael Morpurgo. We did notice, however, a few mistakes in the two star text and thought you might like to know about them. been like that. It’s what soldiers have to do.” “I know that, Mum. Dad told me,” I said. “But what was the war for?” She didn’t answer me.

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Running Wild is a children's novel by Michael Morpurgo first published in 2009. It recounts the adventures of a boy who has to survive in the Indonesian jungle after being rescued from a tsunami by an elephant. [1] Plot summary [ edit ] The story is told in the first person, and readers who notice that Will has an improbable degree of self-awareness for a nine-year-old ("From now on I would remember only the marvellous times, the magical moments that I knew would lift my spirits, that would banish all grieving") and precocious powers of expression ("Whatever it was had transformed her from a ponderous creature of supreme gentleness and serenity, into a wild beast, maddened by terror") will find an explanation in the short postscript. The KS2 SATs style reading material covers his early life, his involvement with charities and his many achievements.

This book was recommended in class by a friend, She said she found the book emotional but said the start was uninteresting. I completely agree with both opinions, the start of the book was uninteresting as there was no action because all the characters were being introduced. However, Will's survival adds adventure and excitement to the book and the bond that Will creates with Oona is heart melting. Although it was quite sad I really enjoyed the thrill and mix of emotions in this book. The first paragraph in the Charity section begins 'Ten years later...set-up the charity for City Children'. The paragraph before this ends with Michael writing his first book in 1974, which then implies that the Charity was set up in 1984. However, the Charity was set up in 1976, which was ten years after he had started teaching. It might be better to start that paragraph 'Ten years after he had started teaching...' And, reading this text will help children develop their spelling and vocabulary, which is essential for the KS2 SATs exams. What are some of Michael Morpurgo's books?The approachable manner in which this is achieved, through the eyes of nine year old Will, make it a truly remarkable read. Beautifully told and illustrated likewise, it is an absolute pleasure to read. I always thought if I were ever going to have an animal for a best friend it would be a unicorn. That’s until I was introduced to Oona. The world’s most devoted, caring and intelligent Elephant, and the best friend Will could ask for. He went on, trying all the while to extricate his shirt-tail from the grip of the elephant’s trunk. “This elephant, she likes this shirt very much, and she also likes people. Oona is very friendly, very intelligent too, and naughty. She is very naughty sometimes, you would not believe it. Sometimes she wants to run when I do not want her to run, and once she is running she is very hard to stop. Then once she is stopped, she is very difficult to start again. You know what Oona likes best? I tell you. She likes the sea. But it is a strange thing. Not today. Today she does not like the sea. I think maybe she is not feeling so good today. I take her down to the sea early this morning for her swim like I always do, and she does not want to go in. She does not want to go near. She only stands there looking out to sea as if she never saw it before. I tell her that the sea is the same as it was yesterday, but still she will not go in. One thing I know for sure: you can’t make Oona do what Oona does not want to do.” He tugged his shirt free at last. “Thank you, Oona, very nice of you,” he said, stroking her ear. “You see, she is happier now, and I think maybe this is because she likes you. I can tell this when I look in her eyes. It is how elephants