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Write a summary of the similarities/differences...
Write a summary of the similarities/differences...
This question assesses your ability to:
identify and interpret explicit and implicit information and ideas
select and synthesise evidence from different texts
It will ask students too compare both sources and summarise either the similarities OR differences about a particular topic - not both. Students will need to pull evidence from the texts, but this does not need to be in the form of a quote; it can be paraphrased. Additionally, students do not need to analyse for language or structural features in this question.
Suggested time: 10 minutes
Top tips:
Read the question carefully so that you are aware of what you are being asked to summarise.
Discuss both texts and try to keep your response weighted equally, instead of focusing more on one text over another.
For the reading section of this exam, we recommend students adopt a What How Why writing structure, to help them effectively communicate their thoughts and analysis. For this question, students should focus on the writer's use of language. Your question will always have a focus. Once we've identified the focus, then we can start to use the What How Why structure to begin a response. This will vary depending on the focus, but it could look like:
What is your opinion about the focus? What is the writer suggesting with the focus?
How do you know?
Why does it make us react differently/similarly? Why is there a comparison?
Let's look at the example in the question below, What can you infer about the different activities the boys enjoy?", the focus of the question is the different activities. So our What How Why would look something like:
What is different about the activities? What does the writer want us to understand about the different activities?
How has the writer used words and phrases to show those differences?
Why is it effective in showing the differences? Why does this make us care about the differences in activities?
Sample Question and Answer
Sample Question and Answer
Source A
Source A
This is an article published in The Guardian newspaper in 2016. The writer, Stuart Heritage, explores how he feels now that his son is a year old.
How can my son be a year old already?
He’s growing up fast, leaving milestones in his wake – and tiny parts of me along with them
My son turned one last week. The day marked the end of what has been both the longest and shortest year of my life. From the instant he was born, it’s felt as if my son has always been part of this family. I don’t mean that in an obnoxious, heart-eyed, this-was-always-meant-to-be way. I simply mean that I haven’t slept for a year and I don’t really know how time works any more. Whole years have passed in some of the afternoons I’ve spent with him lately. Entire galaxies have been born and thrived and withered and died in the time it’s taken him to eat a mouthful of porridge.
How is he one already? First he was born, and then I blinked, and now in his place is a little boy who can walk and has teeth and knows how to switch off the television at precisely the most important moment of anything I ever try to watch. It’s not exactly the most unprecedented development in all of human history – child gradually gets older – but it’s the first time I’ve seen it close up. It’s honestly quite hard to grasp.
A year ago, he was a sleepy ball of scrunched-up flesh, but is now determinedly his own person. I can see everyone in him – me, my wife, my parents – yet he’s already separate from all of us. He’s giddy and silly. He’s a show-off, albeit one who’s irrationally terrified of my dad. He loves running up to people and waiting for them to twang his lips like a ruler on a table. When he gets tired and barks gibberish in the middle of the room, he throws his entire body into it, like he’s trying to shove the noise up a hill.
With every tiny development – every new step he takes, every new tooth and sound and reaction that comes along to ambush us – we’re confronted with a slightly different child.
Photos of him taken in the summer seem like dispatches from a million years ago. Photos of him taken last week seem like a different boy. He’s blasting ahead as far as he can. He’s leaving milestone after milestone in his wake and tiny parts of me along with them.
He’ll never again be the tiny baby who nestled in the crook of my arm, sucking on my little finger in the middle of the night while his mum slept. Nor will he be the baby amazed by the taste and texture of solid food. Soon enough he’ll stop being the baby who totters over and rests his head on my shoulder whenever he gets tired, or laughs uncontrollably whenever I say the word ‘teeth’ for reasons I don’t think I’ll ever work out.
But I’ve had a year of this and it’s ok. He’s never going to stop changing, and I don’t want him to. This sadness, this constant sense of loss, of time slipping just beyond your grasp, is an important part of this process. He won’t realise this, of course. He’s got years of unbroken progress ahead of him, where everything will always be new and he’ll keep obliviously brushing away all of the silly old fools who tell him how much he’s grown.
One day it’ll creep up on him. Years of his life will pass in a moment and he won’t be able to understand where they’ve gone.
But it’s ok. You can’t hoard time. You just have to make the most of what you have.
Source B
Source B
This is an extract from a Victorian newspaper article of the 1800s. The writer explores how she feels now that her son has grown up.
Boy Lost
He had black eyes, with long lashes, red cheeks, and hair almost black and almost curly. He wore a crimson plaid jacket, with full trousers buttoned on, had a habit of whistling, and liked to ask questions. He was accompanied by a small black dog.
It is a long while now since he disappeared.
I have a very pleasant house and much company. My guests say, ‘Ah, it is pleasant to be here! Everything has such an orderly, put-away look – nothing about under foot, no dirt!’ But my eyes are aching for the sight of cut paper upon the floor; of tumbled-down card-houses; of wooden sheep and cattle; of pop-guns, bows and arrows, whips, tops and go-carts. I want to see crumbs on the carpet, and paste spilt on the kitchen table. I want to see the chairs and tables turned the wrong way about; yet these things used to fret me once.
They say, ‘How quiet you are here; ah, one here may be at peace.’ But my ears are aching for the pattering of little feet; for a hearty shout, a shrill whistle, for the crack of little whips, for the noise of drums and tin trumpets; yet these things made me nervous once.
They say – ‘Ah, you are not tied at home. How delightful to be always at liberty for concerts, lectures, and parties! No responsibilities for you.’ But I want responsibilities; I want to listen for the school bell of mornings; to give the last hasty wash and brush, and then to watch from the window nimble feet bounding away to school. I want to replace lost buttons and obliterate mud stains, fruit stains, treacle stains, and paints of all colours. I want to be sitting by a little crib of evenings, when weary little feet are at rest, and prattling voices are hushed, that mothers may sing their lullabies. They don’t know their happiness then – those mothers. I didn’t. All these things I called responsibilities once.
A manly figure stands before me now. He is taller than I, has thick black whiskers, and wears a frock coat, billowy shirt, and cravat. He has just come from college. He calls me mother, but I am rather unwilling to own him. He stoutly declares that he is my boy, and says he will prove it. He brings me his little boat to show the red stripe on the sail, and the name on the stern – ‘Lucy Lowe’ – our neighbour’s little girl who, because of her long curls, and pretty round face, was the chosen favourite of my little boy. How the red comes to his face when he shows me the name on the boat!
And I see it all as plain as if it were written in a book. My little boy is lost, and my big boy will soon be. I wish he were still a little boy in a long white night gown, lying in his crib, with me sitting by, holding his hand in mine, pushing the curls back from his forehead, watching his eyelids droop, and listening to his deep breathing. If I only had my little boy again, how patient I would be! How much I would bear, and how little I would fret and scold! I can never have him back again; but there are still many mothers who haven’t yet lost their little boys. I wonder if they know they are living their very best days; that now is the time to really enjoy their children!
I think if I had been more to my little boy I might now be more to my grown up one.
Q2: You need to refer to Source A and Source B for this question.
The ways the boys in Source A and Source B spend their time playing as young children is different.
What can you infer about the different activities the boys enjoy?
Check Your Answer
Check Your Answer
What
Both writers feel a strong sense of nostalgia and sadness as they reflect on their sons growing up, but they show slightly different attitudes: the father in Source A feels surprised and accepting, while the mother in Source B feels deep regret and longing.
How
In Source A, the writer uses hyperbole like “Entire galaxies have been born and… died” to show how fast time has passed, and he describes tender memories such as his baby son nestled in his arm. In Source B, the mother repeatedly says “I want” and lists small everyday details she misses, such as “crumbs on the carpet”, “pattering of little feet”, and toys scattered around. Source A ends on a more positive, philosophical note (“You can’t hoard time”), while Source B focuses on guilt and wishing she had enjoyed the early years more.
Why
The writers use these methods to explore the emotional difficulty of watching children grow up. The detailed memories and contrasting tones help the reader understand the universal feeling of loss that parents experience. Source A suggests it is natural to feel sad but important to accept change, whereas Source B warns parents to enjoy every moment with their young children before it is too late. This makes the reader think about time, parenting, and how quickly childhood disappears.
Using these ideas, we can then craft a response. Notice how the structure can vary depending on the point you are making and the level. For example, in the Grade 4 response, you can see a much clearer use of What How Why (especially in the first paragraph), which becomes a bit more varied and ambitious by the last paragraph. Whereas in the Grade 9 response, the student is able to blend the ideas together more fluently and can easily bounce back and forth between evidence (How) and explanation (Why) to prove their point (What).
Grade 4
Both writers feel sad that their children have grown up so quickly. In Source A, the dad cannot believe his son is already one year old. He says the year felt both very long and very short at the same time. He misses the tiny baby who used to sleep in his arms and suck on his finger. He feels a little bit sad when he sees how his son is changing and leaving “tiny parts of me” behind, but he knows it is okay and children have to keep growing.
In Source B, the mum feels very lonely and sad now her son is grown up. She misses all the mess he used to make, like toys on the floor and crumbs on the carpet. She also misses the noise of his little feet, his shouting and whistling. She wishes she could have her little boy back in his crib so she could sing to him. She feels sorry that she did not enjoy those times more when he was small. Both writers feel a sense of loss because their little boys have grown and changed. They both look back and miss the baby days, even though they are happy their sons are growing up.
Grade 9
Both writers express a poignant sense of nostalgia and emotional loss as they reflect on their sons growing up, though their attitudes show some differences. In Source A, the father is stunned by how rapidly his son has reached his first birthday. He uses exaggeration, such as “Entire galaxies have been born and thrived and withered and died,” to convey the surreal speed of time. He describes specific tender moments he will never get back, like his baby “nestled in the crook of my arm,” and acknowledges the sadness of “leaving tiny parts of me along with them.” Nevertheless, he ends on a note of acceptance, recognising that “You can’t hoard time” and that change is natural.
In Source B, the Victorian mother presents a more deeply regretful and aching tone. She vividly recalls the domestic chaos she once found annoying — “cut paper upon the floor,” “tumbled-down card-houses,” and “pattering of little feet” — but now desperately longs for. The repeated “I want” emphasises her intense yearning for the responsibilities and noises of motherhood. She openly regrets not appreciating those days enough and wishes she could be more patient if given the chance again, showing stronger feelings of guilt and irreversible loss compared to the father in Source A.
Overall, both parents are united by the universal pain of watching time slip away, but Source A offers a more balanced, forward-looking acceptance, while Source B conveys a heavier, sorrowful longing for the past.
Sample question and answer taken from AQA Language Paper 2 June 2017
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