The Giver Novels & Stories

She added, offering an encouraging nod. Facing a room full of curious stares, I had to admit—internally, of course—that my first impressions of this school weren’t exactly great. Everything and everyone seemed rather irritating. Taking a steady breath, I started, "My name is Ashley Sky and—" "And something you like about the school, girl." A voice cut in. I turned toward the interruption, locking eyes with a girl lounging in her seat, lazily chewing a piece of gum. She had shoulder-length ombre hair and striking grayish-green eyes, her expression laced with impatience as if I was wasting her precious time.

“I did this! It was me! What’re you going to do about it? Are you going to abuse me, too?” What exactly had Simon been telling him? I helped Margaret over to the sofa, brought her blood pressure medication, and handed her a glass of warm water. Then, I quietly picked up the things scattered across the floor and put them back into the closet. When I stepped out again, I was carrying a small backpack. Those were the only few belongings I had brought with me from the orphanage. “I didn’t take anything from this house,” I said to Alex. Then, I handed him two notebooks. “Mom said your foreign language skill isn’t very strong. These are some notes I made. I hope they help you.”

“Maisie, she put so much thought into that gift! How heartless can you be to ignore her like that?” “I seriously misjudged you. In that case, we won’t give you any gifts either.” Left with no choice, I said I appreciated both the gift and her intentions, but I was already wearing a necklace. Zoe’s eyes reddened. “The one I'm giving you is more expensive than that. Doesn’t it deserve a place around your neck?” Just then, Miles Gray's rough voice came from downstairs. “Maisie! C-Come down!” It was my brother.

They rarely looked for strategy underneath. Inside the box were three things: a ledger bound in black leather, a transfer deed for the East Pier warehouses, and a recorded statement from my father naming the men who had framed the Vances. My hands shook when I touched the tape, but I did not cry. Grief could wait. Survival could not. Mira found me at dawn, slipping through a service door with one suitcase and a face set like stone. “I quit,” she said before I could speak. “If you will have me, I work for you now.”

"Mom asked me to play Santa Claus and pass out presents. Surprise and confusion are all I can remember. Why would we pass out our gifts when we had company? But she insisted, so I moved closer to the tree and the first present I picked up, I thought was for me, of course, but the tag read Jake, so I gave it to the boy. And then the next one had Jada on the tag, so I gave it to the girl. "Then I dug out more presents until each person in the room had at least two or three. Sally squealed, 'Let's go, unwrap and see what Santa Claus brought all of you. That turkey isn't going to wait all day, you know." Jake and Jada opened theirs and were so excited as were their parents. Everyone had received

She was sitting under the Christmas tree alone and unwrapping her gifts. That small but heavy package was from her father. He was an old man in his 70s, and he always sent Lennie a book which was about how to become a broadminded person kind of crap. This year’s gift was Crime and Punishment. Lennie just took a look at the cover and then quickly threw it away.

I would like Yellow cab or S&R but there is no store nearby at our school. "Homber Lewis" I stopped eating and took my gift. Gedie is the one who got my name. “Open the gift!” Ma’am said because she will take a picture when the gift is open. The gift is open since it is in a paper bag. My eyes widened when I saw the EXO Posters and Photocards!!! Omg, there’s a lot! “OMG! Gedie thank you!!!” I said and I hugged her. Ma’am took a photo of us and she sat down afterward. It’s my turn to give my gift.

Marissa felt a surge of gratitude, knowing that these gifts were not just material items but symbols of the love and support that surrounded her. Among the gifts, one particularly caught her attention—a beautifully bound book filled with handwritten recipes from the village's oldest residents. This was a treasure she had always wanted, as cooking had been a cherished pastime shared with her mother. The book was a collection of family recipes, each page telling a story of love, tradition, and the joy of gathering around the table. As Marissa flipped through the pages, she could almost hear the laughter of her family and friends echoing through the years.

“I brought you some herbal tea earlier. I heard it helps with digestion.” Old Man Kingsley chuckled lightly. “You’re always thoughtful, Stella.” The subtle approval in his tone made Stella’s smile widen. Dinner was soon announced, and everyone made their way into the grand dining hall. The long table was already set with an array of delicious dishes, the aroma filling the room. Soft golden lights hung overhead, creating a warm but tense atmosphere. As they took their seats, Stella deliberately chose a spot closer to Grandpa Kingsley. Throughout the meal, she remained attentive—offering him vegetables, refilling his drink, and asking after his health with exaggerated concern.