My English teacher told us to write about the history of our life. However, I hate writing, so I used AI to write it for me. I guess you can say it's an auto-biography.
A child from a poor family wanted a bike for Christmas, so he asked his mother. His mother replied, "Well, we can't afford one so you'll just have to go ask the baby Jesus.'
The boy went to his room, got a stack of refill and a pen and began writing: 'Dear Baby Jesus, I've been good all year, can you please give me a bike for Christmas.'
Then he looked at it and thought maybe that wasn't entirely true, so he tried again.
'Dear Baby Jesus, I've been good for the past week, can you please give me a bike for Christmas.'
Then he looked at it again and still wasn't sure if that was true, so he tried yet again.
'Dear Baby Jesus, if you give me a bike, I'll be good all year.'
But even then that seemed too hard, so he took a walk outside to think about it.
As he was walking, he saw his neighbor's statue of Mother Mary. The boy hopped over the fence, tucked it under his shoulder and ran home to hide it. Then wrote his letter again.
'Dear Baby Jesus, if you ever want to see your mother again, give me a bike!'
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A child from a poor family wanted a bike for Christmas, so he asked his mother. His mother replied, "Well, we can't afford one so you'll just have to go ask the baby Jesus.'
The boy went to his room, got a stack of refill and a pen and began writing: 'Dear Baby Jesus, I've been good all year, can you please give me a bike for Christmas.'
Then he looked at it and thought maybe that wasn't entirely true, so he tried again.
'Dear Baby Jesus, I've been good for the past week, can you please give me a bike for Christmas.'
Then he looked at it again and still wasn't sure if that was true, so he tried yet again.
'Dear Baby Jesus, if you give me a bike, I'll be good all year.'
But even then that seemed too hard, so he took a walk outside to think about it.
As he was walking, he saw his neighbor's statue of Mother Mary. The boy hopped over the fence, tucked it under his shoulder and ran home to hide it. Then wrote his letter again.
'Dear Baby Jesus, if you ever want to see your mother again, give me a bike!'
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