Reading Standards for Literature > Comparing Points of View (CCSS.RL.7.6) Practice Test

1 The after-school Garden Committee met in the library, where the tables smelled faintly of dry paper and pencil shavings. Maya lined up her notes, sliding a ruler across the page to box each heading. As treasurer, she liked when numbers behaved. Leo rested a sketchbook on his knees, tapping a marker against the spiral as if it could drum ideas into the air.

2 The committee planned a spring festival to raise money for new beds. Maya wanted something sturdy and predictable: a plant sale, a short tour, maybe lemonade if they found a good price on cups. Responsible. Sensible. Leo saw the festival in blossoms of color. In his head, lanterns spilled light across the paths, and a long banner rippled like a friendly wave at the gate. The spreadsheet looked to him like a field of stiff, gray boxes; rules felt like fences standing where a path should wander.

3 'What if we invite neighborhood artists to paint a mural on the tool shed?' Leo asked, flipping to a fresh page. His marker swished: vines, bees, bright fruit. 'People will stay longer if it's an experience.'

'We have two hundred dollars,' Maya said, already calculating. She wrote totals, then underlined them twice. 'Paint, brushes, drop cloths, permission forms—this adds up. We must stay on schedule and on budget.' Her stomach gave the small, tight knot it always made when a plan could run off the rails.

4 Ms. Patel, their advisor, suggested they make two proposals by Friday: one from Maya, one from Leo. 'Then we can combine the best parts,' she said. Leo's pages filled fast with bursts of color and words like glow, welcome, and surprise. He imagined neighbors smiling, music drifting from someone's portable speaker. Maya's proposal grew in neat bullet points: call the nursery for discounts; borrow folding tables; limit volunteers per shift so no job gets missed. If they started now, they could finish by May 10 without scrambling.

5 When the meeting ended, they packed up in a clatter of chairs. Maya glanced at Leo's sketchbook. The mural idea was beautiful—she could see that—but beauty costs, she thought. People might promise donations and then forget; feelings could not purchase paint. Leo peeked at her spreadsheet and saw tidy rows. Clean, but silent. Numbers couldn't clap or cheer when the garden looked its best.

6 'Maybe we could ask the hardware store to donate leftover paint,' Leo said, softer now. 'It might not be the perfect colors, but it could work.'

Maya considered. It might work, if they made a list and set limits. 'We can try,' she said at last. As they walked out, both of them held onto their separate visions, each believing—stubbornly, hopefully—that the garden needed what they valued most.

1 The after-school Garden Committee met in the library, where the tables smelled faintly of dry paper and pencil shavings. Maya lined up her notes, sliding a ruler across the page to box each heading. As treasurer, she liked when numbers behaved. Leo rested a sketchbook on his knees, tapping a marker against the spiral as if it could drum ideas into the air.

2 The committee planned a spring festival to raise money for new beds. Maya wanted something sturdy and predictable: a plant sale, a short tour, maybe lemonade if they found a good price on cups. Responsible. Sensible. Leo saw the festival in blossoms of color. In his head, lanterns spilled light across the paths, and a long banner rippled like a friendly wave at the gate. The spreadsheet looked to him like a field of stiff, gray boxes; rules felt like fences standing where a path should wander.

3 'What if we invite neighborhood artists to paint a mural on the tool shed?' Leo asked, flipping to a fresh page. His marker swished: vines, bees, bright fruit. 'People will stay longer if it's an experience.'

'We have two hundred dollars,' Maya said, already calculating. She wrote totals, then underlined them twice. 'Paint, brushes, drop cloths, permission forms—this adds up. We must stay on schedule and on budget.' Her stomach gave the small, tight knot it always made when a plan could run off the rails.

4 Ms. Patel, their advisor, suggested they make two proposals by Friday: one from Maya, one from Leo. 'Then we can combine the best parts,' she said. Leo's pages filled fast with bursts of color and words like glow, welcome, and surprise. He imagined neighbors smiling, music drifting from someone's portable speaker. Maya's proposal grew in neat bullet points: call the nursery for discounts; borrow folding tables; limit volunteers per shift so no job gets missed. If they started now, they could finish by May 10 without scrambling.

5 When the meeting ended, they packed up in a clatter of chairs. Maya glanced at Leo's sketchbook. The mural idea was beautiful—she could see that—but beauty costs, she thought. People might promise donations and then forget; feelings could not purchase paint. Leo peeked at her spreadsheet and saw tidy rows. Clean, but silent. Numbers couldn't clap or cheer when the garden looked its best.

6 'Maybe we could ask the hardware store to donate leftover paint,' Leo said, softer now. 'It might not be the perfect colors, but it could work.'

Maya considered. It might work, if they made a list and set limits. 'We can try,' she said at last. As they walked out, both of them held onto their separate visions, each believing—stubbornly, hopefully—that the garden needed what they valued most.