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A Snow Day

Diary Entry

Foundation

25 minutes

CSSE

Kent

Independent

The Prompt

“Write a diary entry about an unexpected snow day — a day when school was closed because of heavy snow.”

Planning Hints

4 tips to help you plan your response

Start with the excitement of discovering school is closed.

Describe the snow — how does the world look and feel?

Include activities: building something, a snowball fight, hot chocolate, sledging.

End with the evening — how do you feel now the day is ending?

Starter Sentences

Suggested opening lines to get you started

“SNOW DAY! Two words that can make any Tuesday the best day of the year.”

“Mum woke me at seven with the most beautiful sentence in the English language: "School's closed."”

“I knew before I opened my eyes. The light was different — brighter, whiter, as though someone had turned the world's brightness up overnight.”

Key Techniques to Demonstrate

Techniques the examiner will be looking for in your response

Annotated Model Answer

A high-quality example response with techniques highlighted

Tuesday 14th January Mum woke me at seven with the most beautiful sentence in the English language: "School's closed." I was out of bed in approximately 0.3 seconds. The curtains flew back and there it was — a world transformed. The garden had vanished under a thick, unbroken blanket of white, so bright against the grey sky that it made me squint. The fence posts wore tall hats of snow. The bird table was a tiny, frosted castle. Even the wheelie bins looked elegant, which is something I never expected to write. By eight o'clock I was outside, wellies on, scarf wrapped to my eyeballs, standing in snow up to my shins. The cold bit my cheeks immediately, sharp and clean. The silence was extraordinary — no cars, no school run, no dogs barking. Just the soft crunch of my boots and the muffled, padded quiet of a world that had pressed pause. Tom from next door appeared over the fence like a grinning, red-nosed meerkat. "Snowman?" he said. "Snowman," I confirmed. Within an hour, we had built what I can only describe as a masterpiece: nearly as tall as Dad, with pebble eyes, a carrot nose, and one of Tom's mum's scarves, which she hasn't noticed is missing yet. We called him Gerald. After lunch — tomato soup that warmed me from the inside out — we went sledging on the hill behind the church. The run was fast. Terrifyingly, brilliantly fast. I screamed the whole way down, snow spraying into my face, the world a blur of white and speed and joy. On the fifth run, I hit a bump and flew off the sledge completely. I lay in the snow, staring up at the grey sky, laughing until my stomach hurt. Now it's evening. I'm in my pyjamas, sitting by the radiator, and my cheeks are still tingling. Through the window, I can see Gerald standing guard in the garden, his scarf fluttering in the breeze. The snow is still falling — soft, fat flakes turning orange under the streetlight. I hope tomorrow is a snow day too. But even if it isn't, today was perfect. Some days just are.

Hover or tap the highlighted phrases to see the technique and explanation