Chapter 15 — Teaching Companion

What it asks It asks the student to look at who leads in the Annex this afternoon. Jonas walks in and sees The Giver “rigid in his chair, his face in his hands.” He knows at once it is a day he will be sent away, and he says he will come back tomorrow. Then he hesitates and adds, “Unless maybe there's something I can do to help.” The Giver looks up, his face “contorted with suffering,” and gasps, “Please,” asking Jonas to “take some of the pain.” Jonas helps him to his chair by the bed, takes off his tunic, and lies face down. “Put your hands on me,” he says. The chapter calls this directing: Jonas is “aware that in such anguish The Giver might need reminding.” The student decides which of them is in charge today: Jonas, who gives the directions, or The Giver, whose memory teaches Jonas “what warfare meant.” It takes up one part of the last written question: before the student judges the asking, they look at how the two of them stand when it happens. Do not say The Giver planned this memory as a lesson; he was in pain and asked for help.

One reading

Jonas. He offers before anyone asks him, helps The Giver to his chair, and gives the directions. He even has to remind The Giver what to do.

• Unless maybe there's something I can do to help.
• aware that in such anguish The Giver might need reminding

Another reading

Still The Giver. Jonas lies face down and takes the memory, the way he always does. He only reminds The Giver because the old man is in such pain. The memory still comes from The Giver, and by the end Jonas has learned something new.

• Then he quickly removed his tunic and lay face down.
• learned what warfare meant

Listen for

• Notices that Jonas offers help before The Giver asks for it.
• Uses the word the chapter gives Jonas: he “directed.”
• Weighs what stays the same: Jonas still lies down and receives the memory.
• Does not say The Giver chose this memory to teach Jonas; the chapter shows only that he was in pain.

If stuck

• What does Jonas expect when he first walks in?
• What does Jonas say and do before The Giver's hands touch him?
• Can someone lead and still be the one who learns?

A strong answer A strong response might say Jonas is in charge today: he offers “something I can do to help” before he is asked, helps The Giver to his chair, and directs him because The Giver “might need reminding.” Another might say The Giver still is: Jonas lies face down and takes the memory, and by the end he has “learned what warfare meant.” A careful answer may notice that both are true at once: Jonas leads in the room, but neither of them leads inside the memory, which was “torturing The Giver” before Jonas took any of it.

What it asks It asks the student to look closely at the first thing that moves in the memory. Jonas lands in a “confused, noisy, foul-smelling place,” with smoke hanging yellow and brown over a field. Everywhere lie “groaning men.” Then a wild-eyed horse, “its bridle torn and dangling,” trots in a panic through the mounds of men, tossing its head. “It stumbled, finally, then fell, and did not rise.” Later the horses lying on the ground shriek and stab “randomly toward the sky with their hooves.” Only after the horse falls does Jonas hear the boy beside him. The student works out what the horse adds. It takes up one part of the last written question: it shows how much The Giver's pain holds, beyond the one boy. Keep the talk on this horse and this field, not on war in general. Do not say which war this is or who is fighting; the chapter names no side.

One reading

The horse did not choose this fight. It is lost and terrified, with its bridle torn. It shows Jonas that a battle hurts even those who never chose it.

• A wild-eyed horse, its bridle torn and dangling, trotted frantically through the mounds of men, tossing its head, whinnying in panic.

Another reading

The horse is the first thing Jonas sees die. The men are still groaning, still alive. The horse shows him the end plainly, before he meets the boy: it falls, and that is all.

• It stumbled, finally, then fell, and did not rise.

Listen for

• Uses a detail of the horse: wild-eyed, the torn bridle, the panic, the fall.
• Notices the plain words “and did not rise.”
• Notices that the horse comes before the boy in the memory.
• Does not name the war or its sides; the chapter does not.

If stuck

• What is the horse doing before it falls?
• What are the men on the field doing at the same time?
• Why might a reader feel something for the horse that is hard to feel for a crowd?

A strong answer A strong response might say the horse shows that the battle hurts even those who never chose it: it is “wild-eyed,” its bridle “torn and dangling,” running in panic. Another might say the horse shows Jonas death itself, plainly, before he meets the boy: it “stumbled, finally, then fell, and did not rise.” A careful answer may notice that the horses come back at the end, still shrieking, so the field does not stop when the boy does.

What it asks It asks the student to weigh one small act on the field. Beside Jonas a voice says “Water” in a “parched, croaking whisper.” It is a boy who seems “not much older than himself,” in a gray uniform wet with blood. One of Jonas's arms is “immobilized with pain,” with what looks like “ragged flesh and splintery bone.” With the other he finds the metal container at his side and opens it, “stopping the small motion of his hand now and then to wait for the surging pain to ease.” Then he reaches across the ground “inch by inch” and holds it to the boy's lips. “Water trickled into the imploring mouth and down the grimy chin.” The boy sighs, his head falls back, and he is silent. The noise goes on all around. The student decides whether the water mattered. It takes up one part of the last written question: Jonas helps someone in pain without being able to end it, which is what The Giver asked of him. Do not say the water saved the boy, and do not say his death was Jonas's fault.

One reading

Yes. The boy begged for water twice, and someone heard him and answered. He got what he asked for at the very end: a drink, and not only thirst.

• Water trickled into the imploring mouth and down the grimy chin.
• The boy sighed.

Another reading

Not to how things turned out. The water could not save him, and the dying went on all around. If it mattered, it mattered for Jonas, who did what he could.

• He was silent.
• But the noise continued all around

Listen for

• Uses the details of the reach: one arm, the pauses for pain, “inch by inch.”
• Says what the water did and what it could not do.
• Notices that many others on the field are still “begging for water.”
• Does not say the water saved the boy, or that his death was Jonas's fault.

If stuck

• What did the boy ask for, and how many times?
• What did it cost Jonas to give it?
• Can a kindness matter if it does not change how things end?

A strong answer A strong response might say the water mattered: the boy begged twice, and Jonas reached “inch by inch” to give it, so the boy was answered before he went silent. Another might say it changed nothing: the boy dies a moment later, and the cries “begging for water” go on all around. A careful answer may notice that Jonas does here what he did in the Annex: someone in pain asks, and he gives what he can, though he cannot end the pain.

What it asks It asks the student to judge, in writing, why the colors stand out at the worst moment of the memory. Jonas lies beside a boy “not much older than himself,” whose gray uniform is “glistening with wet, fresh blood.” Then one sentence stands alone as its own paragraph: “The colors of the carnage were grotesquely bright: the crimson wetness on the rough and dusty fabric, the ripped shreds of grass, startlingly green, in the boy's yellow hair.” Grotesquely means in an ugly, horrible way. These are the colors Jonas wanted, and here, for the first time, they come with horror. The student decides why Jonas notices them now, with a dying boy beside him, and backs the answer with words from the page. It takes up one part of the last written question: the colors are part of what passed to Jonas with The Giver's pain. Do not treat the colors as decoration, and do not say which war this is; the chapter names no side.

One reading

He cannot help it. The colors are too bright to miss, and they are the colors of blood and torn grass. The memory forces them on him along with the pain.

• The colors of the carnage were grotesquely bright
• the crimson wetness on the rough and dusty fabric

Another reading

He is looking hard at the boy. The green grass in yellow hair makes him one boy, close to Jonas's own age, not one of the mounds of men. Seeing the colors is seeing him.

• the ripped shreds of grass, startlingly green, in the boy's yellow hair
• a boy who seemed not much older than himself

Listen for

• Names the colors in the sentence and what each one is on.
• Says what “grotesquely bright” means in the student's own words.
• Gives a reason the colors stand out now: forced on Jonas by the memory, or found by him in looking at the boy.
• Writes in complete sentences, with a reason and a line from the chapter.

If stuck

• What three colors are in the sentence, and what is each one on?
• Who has the yellow hair, and how old does he seem?
• Could Jonas have looked away from colors that bright?

A strong answer A strong response might argue Jonas cannot help noticing: the colors are “grotesquely bright,” and the first of them is the “crimson wetness” of blood, so the memory forces them on him with the pain. Another might argue he notices because he is looking closely at one boy, “not much older than himself,” and the green grass in his “yellow hair” is part of seeing him as a person. A careful answer may notice that these are the colors Jonas wanted, and that here they come to him whether he wants them or not.

What it asks This is the last question the student meets, and it gathers the earlier ones. The student has looked at which of them is in charge in the Annex, what the horse shows, whether the water mattered, and why Jonas notices color at such a time. Now they judge The Giver's asking. He is “rigid in his chair, his face in his hands,” and his face is “contorted with suffering.” Jonas offers help first: “Unless maybe there's something I can do to help.” The Giver gasps, “Please,” and asks Jonas to “take some of the pain.” What passes over is a battlefield Jonas lies in for hours with a broken arm, until he “would welcome death himself.” He learns “what warfare meant.” Afterward, “The Giver looked away, as if he could not bear to see what he had done to Jonas.” Then he says, “Forgive me.” The student decides whether The Giver was wrong to ask, and defends it in writing. Do not settle it for them. No answer may say how Jonas answers or whether he forgives, since the chapter ends on those words; that The Giver chose this memory as a planned lesson; or which war it is.

One reading

No, he was not wrong. Jonas offered before he was asked, and taking memories is what Jonas is there for. The Giver was suffering alone. Asking for help is not wrong, even when the help costs a lot.

• Unless maybe there's something I can do to help.
• his face contorted with suffering

Another reading

Yes, he was wrong. Jonas did not know what he was offering to take. He lay among the dying for hours with a broken arm, until he would welcome death. The Giver's own face says he did something he cannot bear to look at.

• would welcome death himself
• as if he could not bear to see what he had done to Jonas

Listen for

• Takes a side and gives a reason from the chapter.
• Weighs Jonas's offer: does offering first change whether the asking was fair?
• Says what “Forgive me” shows about how The Giver judges himself, and whether the student agrees with him.
• Writes in complete sentences and answers the other side; does not say how Jonas answers or whether he forgives.

If stuck

• Who spoke first about helping, Jonas or The Giver?
• What did the help cost Jonas?
• Can a person be right to ask and still be sorry for what it cost?

A strong answer A strong response takes a position and tests it. A student might argue The Giver was not wrong: Jonas offered first, “Unless maybe there's something I can do to help,” and The Giver was suffering alone, his face “contorted with suffering.” Another might argue he was wrong: Jonas did not know what he was taking on, he lay on the field until he “would welcome death himself,” and The Giver himself cannot bear “to see what he had done.” A careful answer may notice that “Forgive me” is The Giver's own verdict on himself, and ask whether the student agrees with it, or whether a person can be right to ask and still owe an apology.