Sara was in her favourite spot by the river listening to the sweet song of the birds.
She had always loved rowing her little boat down the clear, blue river. Around her she
could see the winding trees how's blossom sang even in the cruel grip of winter. There
was no finer place in England. Sara sat sketching all the flowers around the river and
big willow that curved down over her head. A messanger came and said in a shakey voice to Sara
" Your brother is dead!" Sara froze she did'nt want to beleve him.