Author's Development of Point of View Practice Test

Read the passage.

I used to think the library was the most boring place in town. The doors were heavy, the carpet smelled like dust, and the “quiet” signs felt like they were yelling at me. But on Tuesday, Mom dropped me off for an hour while she ran errands, and I had no choice but to go inside.

At first I wandered between shelves like I was walking through a maze designed by someone who hated fun. Then I noticed a small table near the back with a hand-written sign: “Build a Mini Bridge Challenge.” There were craft sticks, string, and a little bucket of pennies. A woman with bright purple glasses smiled at me. “Want to test your engineering skills?” she asked.

Engineering. That word sounded important, like something real people did. I picked up the sticks anyway, even though I told myself it was just to kill time. My fingers moved faster than my brain, tying knots and lining up sticks so the bridge wouldn’t wobble. I kept imagining the pennies crashing through, and my stomach tightened every time I added another one.

When my bridge held twenty pennies, I let out a laugh that was probably too loud. The woman clapped softly. “Nice work,” she said. I tried to act casual, but my cheeks felt warm.

On the way out, I didn’t even notice the dusty carpet. I only noticed the table, the pennies, and the fact that I wanted to come back tomorrow.

In the passage, how does the author develop the narrator’s point of view about the library?

Read the passage, then answer the question.

I used to think our neighbor Mrs. Kline was the strictest person on the block. She trimmed her hedges into perfect squares and swept her sidewalk even when it wasn’t dirty. When a soccer ball rolled onto her lawn, she returned it with two hands, like it might explode.

So when Mom asked me to bring a plate of muffins to Mrs. Kline, I carried them like a peace offering. I knocked softly, already planning my escape if she started lecturing me about crumbs.

Mrs. Kline opened the door and stared at the plate. For a second she didn’t speak, and I wondered if I had done something wrong again. Then her face changed—just a little. “Those smell… nice,” she said, as if the word “nice” was new.

Inside, her house looked nothing like her yard. A half-finished quilt covered the couch, bright with messy triangles of fabric. A small table was crowded with paintbrushes and jars of cloudy water. I blinked. This was not the home of someone who hated disorder.

Mrs. Kline noticed me staring. “I make quilts for the hospital,” she said. Her voice was quiet. “The kids there like the colors.”

I felt heat rise to my cheeks. All this time, I had been sure she was only strict because she wanted everything her way. I hadn’t even considered she might be careful outside so she could be creative inside.

From which point of view is this passage told?