It was homeroom, I was sitting with three of my best friends listening to them gossip about all the new drama going around our seventh grade class. I always listened but never said much. The latest drama they discussed such as, “Oh my gosh, I can’t believe Joey said yes and is now going out with Mandy” and “Is she really wearing that, ew!” was never really my thing. I began zoning my ever so popular posy out when I noticed a girl sitting alone at a table in the corner of the classroom. She had long strangling brown hair, was skinny and seemed shy. I had seen her before wondering the halls but never knew her name. I had also never seen her talk or be around anyone before. I made eye contact with her and she quickly looked away and down into her notebook. Homeroom was time to get your homework done but in reality, it was time to talk with friends and hang out.
I immediately was drawn to this girl in the corner. My heart almost hurt for her. She was lonely, I could tell. Marcie, one of my good friends sitting at our table noticed this girl in the corner almost at the same time I did. “Oh my gosh, what a loner.” She said to us girls while smirking towards the corner of the classroom. “I would hate to be a loser with no friends.” The other girls laughed, I let out a forced smile, trying to hide the fact that I hated how mean and shallow my friends could be. I couldn’t wait until the bell rang and it was time to leave homeroom for fifth period.
The next day I rushed into homeroom just as my teacher began taking attendance. I barely made it on time, but avoided a tardy. I glanced over and noticed the girl in the same spot, reading in her notebook again. My friends were already blabbing about the latest news and gossip. I felt that feeling in my heart that went down to my stomach again as I glanced over yet again towards her direction. I quickly grabbed my backpack, stood up and walked over to the girl in the corner. “Hi, my name is Sarah. Would you like to come over and sit by my friends and I?” I asked her. She shook her heard no and seeming to be very nervous, not even looking up at me to respond. “Okay, well would you mind if I sat here with you this afternoon?” This time she looked up and had a huge smile across her face showing two very deep dimples on each cheek.
Now, I’m no hero, but in this moment I know I made a difference and made her day. My friends were less than thrilled, but from this moment on I continued sitting with the lonely girl in the corner, also known as Lacey.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
Sunday, October 11, 2009
One Last Time (MSF-Bear at the Door)
“Bob, grab my hand! Now goddamnit grab my hand!”
Bob looked up at Gail, hopelessness filling his icy blue eyes. He had become weak from holding onto the ice, grasping as firmly as he could to the side for his life.
Ice fishing was something Bob loved to do; Gail on the other hand could care less about this hobby of her husbands. 46 years together and she still refused to hold a rode and attempt to catch a fish. She hated everything about ice fishing, the bate, the waiting, the cold. She hated it but she loved Bob so much for the past seven years every Sunday during the winter months she went up north with him to go ice fishing. She usually just sat there in the freezing cold bundled up from head to toe waiting for the words, “Okay honey, we can go now.” Those words were music to her ears. This day however, this day she would not get to hear those words.
It was beginning to warm up while still being extremely cold, this early March but Bob still insisted he had to go ice fishing just one last time this year. Against her better judgment Gail agreed, “One more time, then were going somewhere warm.” He agreed and packed up the old Chevy with his rod, bate and folding chairs. Once on the middle of the lake nothing seemed wrong. Gail and Bob had been sitting there for over an hour, caught one fish and begun talking about the vacation to a warm island Gail had been planning during this long winter month ice fishing with Bob. In the middle of her description of the all-inclusive resort the first crack sounded.
“Bob honey, let’s go I think I heard a crack, the sun has been up for a couple hours now the ice could be too thin. We are the only ones out on this stupid lake right now, maybe we should call it a year and go in.”
“Oh Gail you worry too much. Just let me catch one more, it is the last time for a few months you know?”
“Yes I know,” she added a “thank goodness” under her breathe but made sure Bob could not hear that part.
Only moments later the cracking became obvious to both Bob and Gail. A look of worry flashed over both of their faces, they both lifted up off their chairs in an attempt to hurry to the shore. Bob was slightly overweight, and the thinning ice could not hold him. The ice broke open and Bob slide into the icy lake. As the water hit it was like thousands of needles pricking him, nearly numbing him instantly. He looked at his wife, panic all over her beautiful snow-white face. He tried to life himself out but it was no use. Bob was not as young as he used to be, just turned 64-years old last January and he knew he would not be able to get out.
“Bob, grab my hand! Now goddamnit grab my hand!”
Bob looked up at Gail, hopelessness filling his icy blue eyes. He had become weak from holding onto the ice, grasping as firmly as he could to the side. He knew what he needed to do. He did not want his wife, his love, and his life to fall in by standing to close to him reaching for him. If the ice shattered and she fell in they would both lose this battle. He looked at her and mouthed, “I love you” then let go.
Bob looked up at Gail, hopelessness filling his icy blue eyes. He had become weak from holding onto the ice, grasping as firmly as he could to the side for his life.
Ice fishing was something Bob loved to do; Gail on the other hand could care less about this hobby of her husbands. 46 years together and she still refused to hold a rode and attempt to catch a fish. She hated everything about ice fishing, the bate, the waiting, the cold. She hated it but she loved Bob so much for the past seven years every Sunday during the winter months she went up north with him to go ice fishing. She usually just sat there in the freezing cold bundled up from head to toe waiting for the words, “Okay honey, we can go now.” Those words were music to her ears. This day however, this day she would not get to hear those words.
It was beginning to warm up while still being extremely cold, this early March but Bob still insisted he had to go ice fishing just one last time this year. Against her better judgment Gail agreed, “One more time, then were going somewhere warm.” He agreed and packed up the old Chevy with his rod, bate and folding chairs. Once on the middle of the lake nothing seemed wrong. Gail and Bob had been sitting there for over an hour, caught one fish and begun talking about the vacation to a warm island Gail had been planning during this long winter month ice fishing with Bob. In the middle of her description of the all-inclusive resort the first crack sounded.
“Bob honey, let’s go I think I heard a crack, the sun has been up for a couple hours now the ice could be too thin. We are the only ones out on this stupid lake right now, maybe we should call it a year and go in.”
“Oh Gail you worry too much. Just let me catch one more, it is the last time for a few months you know?”
“Yes I know,” she added a “thank goodness” under her breathe but made sure Bob could not hear that part.
Only moments later the cracking became obvious to both Bob and Gail. A look of worry flashed over both of their faces, they both lifted up off their chairs in an attempt to hurry to the shore. Bob was slightly overweight, and the thinning ice could not hold him. The ice broke open and Bob slide into the icy lake. As the water hit it was like thousands of needles pricking him, nearly numbing him instantly. He looked at his wife, panic all over her beautiful snow-white face. He tried to life himself out but it was no use. Bob was not as young as he used to be, just turned 64-years old last January and he knew he would not be able to get out.
“Bob, grab my hand! Now goddamnit grab my hand!”
Bob looked up at Gail, hopelessness filling his icy blue eyes. He had become weak from holding onto the ice, grasping as firmly as he could to the side. He knew what he needed to do. He did not want his wife, his love, and his life to fall in by standing to close to him reaching for him. If the ice shattered and she fell in they would both lose this battle. He looked at her and mouthed, “I love you” then let go.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
Leaving (MSF Journey)
Timmy was one of thousands throughout the United States going through this grueling cycle. He knew the drill; the phone rang, he was asked to pack up what little belongings he had, and not even 30-minutes later was put in the back of a car off to some new home. He had already moved four times since he turned seven last June. It was a Wednesday afternoon, not past 1:00pm when that damn phone rang. Julie Combs, his current foster mother answered the phone and looked directly at Timmy as he ate a PB&J sandwich at the counter. He knew it; he did not even have to be told. He set his half-eaten sandwich down and slowly moseyed into the room he had been living in for only two months.
Packing didn’t take long. He threw a couple striped t-shirts into a warn-down red backpack, grabbed his toothbrush and headed back towards the kitchen. By this time the other four children living at Miss. Julie’s were already outside playing kickball. Timmy would not be able to play today, or anymore with these kids. That’s to bad too because he really liked these kids. Not even ten minutes later the doorbell rang, Miss Julie kissed Timmy on the forehead and said, “Be good hunny, I hope to see you soon.” Timmy nodded and walked out the front door with a man in a brown suit. Those words that Miss Julie said, well they all said that to him as he left and he never saw or spoke to any of his foster parent’s again. He knew he would not see Miss. Julie again.
The car ride was long, the man in the brown suit kept trying to have small talk with Timmy but he just ignored him and looked out the window as the scenery changed from a friendly neighborhood to a busy city. As he watched all the cars zoom by which seemed like faster than the speed of light, he remember, he remembered why he was constantly taking these journeys to new places. Not even a year ago a bunch of policeman broke into his home. His mom began crying blurting out a bunch of words, not taking her eyes off Timmy. He knew she had done something, something wrong. They took her away from him; he has not seen her since. The boys in the first foster home he was in would always say, “Was your mom a crack head or something? Yeah, she probably was that’s why you’re here! Crack baby, crack baby!” Timmy hated that first house.
Before he knew it the city zooming by went back to suburban and they stopped at a little yellow house. Timmy held tight to his bag and stepped out of the car. You’d think he would be used to this by now, but he wasn’t. He hated this part. The unknown. Would he like his foster parents? Would the other children be mean like at that first house? How long would he be here? Would they like him? Would he be good enough? He wandered up the four short steps to the front porch, took a deep breath and watched as the man in the brown suit rang the doorbell. He held his breath in anticipation as the door opened wide.
Packing didn’t take long. He threw a couple striped t-shirts into a warn-down red backpack, grabbed his toothbrush and headed back towards the kitchen. By this time the other four children living at Miss. Julie’s were already outside playing kickball. Timmy would not be able to play today, or anymore with these kids. That’s to bad too because he really liked these kids. Not even ten minutes later the doorbell rang, Miss Julie kissed Timmy on the forehead and said, “Be good hunny, I hope to see you soon.” Timmy nodded and walked out the front door with a man in a brown suit. Those words that Miss Julie said, well they all said that to him as he left and he never saw or spoke to any of his foster parent’s again. He knew he would not see Miss. Julie again.
The car ride was long, the man in the brown suit kept trying to have small talk with Timmy but he just ignored him and looked out the window as the scenery changed from a friendly neighborhood to a busy city. As he watched all the cars zoom by which seemed like faster than the speed of light, he remember, he remembered why he was constantly taking these journeys to new places. Not even a year ago a bunch of policeman broke into his home. His mom began crying blurting out a bunch of words, not taking her eyes off Timmy. He knew she had done something, something wrong. They took her away from him; he has not seen her since. The boys in the first foster home he was in would always say, “Was your mom a crack head or something? Yeah, she probably was that’s why you’re here! Crack baby, crack baby!” Timmy hated that first house.
Before he knew it the city zooming by went back to suburban and they stopped at a little yellow house. Timmy held tight to his bag and stepped out of the car. You’d think he would be used to this by now, but he wasn’t. He hated this part. The unknown. Would he like his foster parents? Would the other children be mean like at that first house? How long would he be here? Would they like him? Would he be good enough? He wandered up the four short steps to the front porch, took a deep breath and watched as the man in the brown suit rang the doorbell. He held his breath in anticipation as the door opened wide.
Loveland Falls (Map-Activity/Setting Practice)
Crystal was frolicking in the woods, not a care in the world. She had loved exploring her entire life. While wondering in Loveland Falls she heard what she had been hoping she would hear, a stream not only 50 feet away. As she reached the stream she slid her foot out of her leather sandal and trickled her toes in the icy cold stream. There were big oak trees all around, with birds of all kinds singing throughout the sky. Frogs were hoping from rock to rock, attempting to cross this slow moving stream.
She suddenly noticed a deer on the other end of the stream stopping for a drink. There was a mother and her calf close to her side. The calf noticed her gaze almost instantly and without knowing for sure, Crystal could have sworn she saw him smile at her. Bees buzzed around a nearby bushel of daisies basking in a ray of sunlight that the massive oak trees were not blocking. Crystal lay down on the grass letting some sunlight hit her face. She shut her eyes and could focus now only on the singing birds and croaking toads and fresh, floral air that whipped through his lungs. The grass was soft, moist to the touch. In this moment she was so relaxed, with not a worry in the world.
She suddenly noticed a deer on the other end of the stream stopping for a drink. There was a mother and her calf close to her side. The calf noticed her gaze almost instantly and without knowing for sure, Crystal could have sworn she saw him smile at her. Bees buzzed around a nearby bushel of daisies basking in a ray of sunlight that the massive oak trees were not blocking. Crystal lay down on the grass letting some sunlight hit her face. She shut her eyes and could focus now only on the singing birds and croaking toads and fresh, floral air that whipped through his lungs. The grass was soft, moist to the touch. In this moment she was so relaxed, with not a worry in the world.
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