Rewrite the Following Extract as If the Girl with an Apple is the Narrator : - English

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Answer in Brief

Rewrite the following extract as if the girl with an apple is the narrator :

[You may begin like this: A stranger said something, in a language. I didn't understand.... '] 

I glanced around to make sure no one saw me. I called to her softly in German. "Do you have something to eat?" 
She didn't understand.  I inched closer to the fence and repeated the question 111 Polish. She stepped forward. I was thin and gaunt, with rags wrapped around my feet, but the girl looked unafraid In her eyes. I saw life. She pulled an apple from her woollen jacket and threw it over the fence. I grabbed the fruit and. as I started to run away, I heard her say faintly," I'll sec you tomorrow."  I returned to the same spot by the fence at the same time every day. She was always there with something for me to eat a hunk of bread or, better yet, an apple. We didn't dare speak or linger. To the caught would mean death for us both. 
I didn't know anything about her, just a kind farm girl, except that she understood Polish. What was her name? Why was she risking her lire for me?  Hope was in such short supply), and this girl on the other side of the ranch gave me some. as nourishing in its way as thc bread and apples.  Nearly seven months later. my brothers and I were crammed into a coal car and shipped 10 Theresienstadt camp in Czechoslovakia. "Don't return," I told the girl that day. "We're leaving." 

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I grew up on the bank of a ditch, in a beautiful flower garden. I thrived and blossomed there as the sun shone brightly and warmly over all of us flowers in that garden.  The children were at school, sitting in their classrooms, learning their lessons but I was free, sitting on my thin green stalk, learning lessons of nature. It made me realize how know God is and rejoiced in the sweet melody rendered by the lark. Instead I felt I was blessed with wealth in abundance as I could see and hear the bird and could feel the warmth of the sun and the love of the forest. One fine morning I bloomed, my now white petals stood around my yellow centre, like the rays of the sun. I was a poor despised flower, nobody noticed me, but that didn’t bother me, I was happy.

Concept: Narration
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