They were there before me.
They taught me how to be,
How to walk and how to talk.
They even taught me how to breathe.
Mom has always been there,
Soft comfort in the night,
She held me when I was a baby,
Still hugs me when I cry.
Embedded Files
Dad is like my rock,
Someone I can depend on.
They say we’re too alike,
And that’s why we’d always fight,
But in the end we’d come back,
Because he understands
Like nobody else can.
They are the ones who taught me
Things like numbers and theology.
Because of them I write and paint
And believe in a world to be made.
Mom and I could walk together
All night and all day,
Talking all of our troubles away.
Dad and I could sit for hours
Trading tricks on our computers,
And sharing our strange humor.
There aren’t enough words to describe
The impact they have on my life,
But this one thing is sure:
If ever they were lost,
I’d miss them for forever
We are the kids that never grew up
Another year
So much to fear
Resolutions and goals
Guess we were the fools
Diets stop within the week
Giving up on what we seek
Determined for a single day
Until it simply falls away
A new year
New failure
What we want to change
Always makes a point to stay
What we need to stay
Is bound someday to change
Time flows too fast
They'll fall away
They'll never last
Moving on without us
No one left to trust
When we're stuck here
Trapped by our fear
Running in circles alone
Trapped in this box we call home
Surrounded by the rolling racing tide
But we can't enjoy the ride
Right here we stay stuck
The kids who never grew up
They say we'll learn and grow
How do they know
They mock all of the adults
Who act like kids
Who won't give their all
Don't know how to exist
How long before that's you or me
Just when will we be
The kids who never grew up
Still we keep going
In the box, our own current flowing
The perfect future
We haven't found
Dusty wings brush the ground
Pulling, hoping, running, falling
Rushing, rising, living, flying
Maybe we didn't grow up
Maybe we're still stuck
In our quirky reality
But we can still be
The kids who rose above
The kids who never gave up
I hate waking up to your neatly made bed beside mine.
I hate how you're motivated all of the time.
I live on mac'n'cheese while you eat healthy.
I get frustrated and you overflow with positivity.
You can dance choreographed steps around me.
I don't even know about half of your hobbies.
Unlike my mess, you're always aesthetic.
You're so good at everything, it makes me sick.
I'm shaped wrong, but you're perfectly pretty.
You're always cute, not awkward like me.
You're so much faster than me.
You know exactly what you want to be.
You're two steps ahead of me.
I'm two steps behind you.
You're running away, I'm losing hope.
Please wait for me, where did you go?
I'm lost alone.
I don't know what to do.
I just want to be like you.
Do you have something that you really want to accomplish in the future? Everyone has some sort of goal, even if it isn’t big or impressive. I have a page-long list of goals that doesn’t even come close to summarizing the dreams in my head, but I’ll focus on just one: I want to share my artwork with people. Not just drawings and paintings, I want to share poems and stories and anything else I can make. I want to create a bright future for myself, going on adventures and connecting with all sorts of people through the things that I love.
I’ve had to ask myself before why I want this. I think God gave me the passions that I have for a reason, so I want to use them to spread hope and to honor Him. 1 Peter 4:10 says, “Each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others, as faithful stewards of God’s grace in its various forms.” Besides, I have a craving for adventure, and this sounds like the best way to satisfy it. Leaving an impact on people is the most thrilling thing that I can do.
Everyone has to start somewhere. Right now I’m posting pictures and blogs on a personal website, sharing them with a few
people on Instagram and my parents’ friends on Facebook. I’m learning all I can and trying out new things. I’m taking in the people and the world around me and enjoying it all with wide eyes.
I’m already on the first step to reaching my goal. Another part of this step is entering contests to gain exposure. From here, I’ll try to get featured in some blogs and magazines, and sell some of my work. I’ll work on writing my book, and when it's ready to publish, I’ll work on that. Once I’m a little older and have more money, freedom, and experience, I’ll go for bigger things; art galleries and exhibits, book signings, and who knows what else. The sky’s the limit!
When I think about it, my goal isn’t very specific. That doesn’t matter; I don’t need to know everything when I’m only fifteen years old.The important thing is that I have a goal, even if it’s outlandish. I’m going to try my best to achieve whatever form this dream will take.
Fear is a confusing thing. It can help us or get in our way. It all depends on the situation and how we react to both the fear and the situation. Fear of fire keeps us from getting burned. Fear of things we can’t control, however, only hurts us. I admire Kent and Amber Brantly and Nancy Writebol because they must have felt this kind of fear, but they didn’t let it stop them.
I’m sure all three knew the risks the moment they started working in Africa, but they served in the hospital anyway. They may not have had much recognition at that time, but they did big things to serve God and others regardless. Philippians 2:3-5 says, “Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others.” They weren’t thinking about themselves when treating Ebola Virus Disease. Of course they took precautions to avoid catching the virus, but every system has flaws, and they knew that.
When Kent and Nancy both caught the virus, they had to persevere. Amber had to do the same, as she was stuck back in the U.S. worrying about her sick husband. They all trusted God to bring them through, and He did just that. The event of the virus and recovery behind them, what did they do? They continued in ministry and eventually returned to Africa. They were like Paul in 2 Corinthians 4:8-9, “We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed.”
It would have been easy to let fear take over and give up hospital work altogether after the scare they had, even if the two were likely immune. Amber hadn’t gotten the sickness, after all, so she was still vulnerable. They didn’t look at it that way, though. Kent saw his close call as motivation to work even harder for others. He knew that his life was valuable and fragile, and he had to make the most of it. Ephesians 5:16 says, “Be very careful, then, how you live—not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil.”
What are you afraid of? Is this a healthy fear, or does it stop you from doing what God wants? What are you doing with your life right now? I’m inspired by the way that these three people put their fears away for God’s glory. “So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.”--Isaiah 41:10.
I want to run away.
Why does ordinary have to be reality?
I wish I were insane.
Logical thoughts hold me back.
Why do I have to be a good kid?
It would be so much easier
If I didn't care.
I wish I didn't care.
I want to run away
But everything holds me back.
I can only escape
Into the grotto of my mind
But it's lonely up there.
I want to share it with you.
Should I share it?
Please be my escape.
Can we run away together
Right where we are?
Anxiety
I want to scream
Everything is impossible
I want to be it all
But I'm nothing
Just drowning
Running out of time
Can't keep myself in line
I need to hold on
But I'm falling apart
Maybe I should let go
But I don't know where to start
And it kills me to be like this
Writing another depressing poem
About everything and nothing
Seemingly real problems
That don’t exist
But I need to get it out
Sometimes I want to run away
But the person I really need to escape is me
I could leave it all behind
To have a great adventure
But I'd still be by myself
My thoughts wheeling faster
I just want to go
But I know I won't
Why am I such a good kid
Why do I have to care about others’ feelings
Why do I have to feel my own
I need an escape
I used to find it in my mind
But now everything is so tangled
I’d get lost up there
I guess I'll just keep going
On this rocky path
I'll work until I am everything I want to be
It might be the wrong mentality
But determination can't hurt
If I'm already broken
I'll keep pursuing my dreams
And try to enjoy the journey
Even when it feels like the earth
Is swallowing me
I can't run away
But maybe I can fly to new heights
Someday
Maybe I'm flying
On wings of glass.
Any moment
I'll fall and crash,
But don't make me stop,
Please don't.
Maybe it hurts
Too much to let go.
Maybe I'm just not sure
How to say no.
I don't want to stop.
Please don't give up.
Maybe I'll crack,
But I won't let myself break.
I'll get up again,
Learn from each mistake.
I'm never going to stop.
Please don't give up on me.
These wings of glass,
They seem unsteady.
Life is tough.
Am I ready?
Nothing can make me stop.
I won't give up on me.
Am I mad?
This is a story told fictionally
About an insane girl named me.
Up is down, down is up.
Stop is go, go is stop.
The story happens in my head.
Is it real?
Am I real
Or am I dead?
My thoughts are one psychotic pool
And me, the fool,
Writing them out so they look cool.
Am I thoughtful?
Am I deep,
Or is this just cheap,
A plastic cover
Over my ravings and my rhymes
At the most confusingly normal of times.
We all have those weird things we said as kids, right? I know I could fill an entire book with my funny childhood quotes. One thing I did every night when my family prayed before bed was thank God for each of us in turn and then say, “Don’t fowget to love youwsewf!” when I got to me. That is now a family joke, but the three year old goofball that was me actually had a point.
My cute younger self probably drew you in, but now that you know my topic, some of you are probably getting bored. Yes, the love yourself idea may seem a bit overused, unless I’m the only one who gets the suggested posts on Instagram about how “you are enough.” Honestly, I used to think self love was just an overrated trend. Now, however, I feel it’s important to really understand the movement, what it means, and how it can go too far.
I never really knew anything about self love until I started doing yoga with my mom to relieve the stress of school and living
in a house with six kids. We followed Yoga With Adrian on YouTube and she talked a lot about making time for yourself and accepting your body as it is while finding ways to improve that feel good. In one video she said, “Self love; an ongoing regular practice, not something we tap into when we’re down and out, or when we’re in that kind of fight or flight mode, but rather a regular practice.” I took in some of what she said and I thought it made a lot of sense, but to be completely honest, I really just liked doing the poses. I definitely didn’t make self love a regular practice, at any rate.
A few months ago, however, my sister and I started listening to the popular k-pop group, BTS. The band is big on self love, and their songs are what finally helped me get it. This translation from one of their songs, “Answer: Love Myself”, really caught my attention: “Loving myself might be harder
Than loving someone else
Let’s admit it
The standards I made are more strict for myself
...
Now let’s forgive ourselves
Our lives are long, trust yourself when in a maze.”
When you think of yourself, what is the first word that comes to your mind? A few people might respond to this question with “unique” or “creative” or “funny”, but a lot might say “ugly” or “fat” or “stupid”. Now, how would you answer this question about your best friend? If you’re being totally honest, some of you will think of outward flaws first, but, chances are, you’ll quickly slap yourself and focus instead on said friend’s good qualities like kindness or love. What exactly is the difference between you and your best friend that your bad qualities are worse than theirs? Why is the scale different when it’s you? To me, self love is about looking at yourself the way you would look at anybody else because, the fact is, we’re all humans.
Some people might argue that they really don’t have anything to love about themselves. That is untrue. I believe that we were all created by God, who knows what He is doing. To quote Genesis 1:27, “So God created human beings in His own image. In the image of God He created them. Male and female He created them.” He made you just the way He wants you. Just like there are flaws in any human, every one of us has something worth loving, too. You just have to try a little. Work to find something about yourself to love and then grow that.
In a speech to the United Nations, RM of BTS said this: “Maybe I made a mistake yesterday, but yesterday’s me is still me. I am who I am today, with all my faults. Tomorrow I might be a tiny bit wiser, and that’s me, too. These faults and mistakes are what I am, making up the brightest stars in the constellation of my life. I have come to love myself for who I was, who I am, and who I hope to become.”
Other people may avoid self love because they don’t want to become, well, selfish. This is actually a legitimate concern for some. Self love can go too far. We can start seeing ourselves as perfect and stop trying to improve. It’s important to remember that you are sinful and imperfect, but so is everyone else. It’s about what we focus on, and how we handle ourselves with the flaws. Some people might feel entitled. You don’t deserve the entire world, you deserve what you can get for yourself. Hard work is crucial. Finally, you could become self centered and love yourself more than you love anyone else. This is neither healthy nor kind. The key is balance. Know who you are and who everyone else is. We are all humans. We all have good qualities and bad ones. Treat yourself the way you would treat any other human, no better and no worse.
Self love can be hard and confusing, but it’s worth the effort. I was inspired by the music made by seven people who are all the way across the world from me, so I hope you can be inspired by me, a random teenage girl behind this random post. If nothing else, I hope this can at least be to you what the soothing voice between downward dogs was to me: a start. Remember to look at yourself in the right light, and keep making more things to love.
My dream is to be an artist. I have it all planned out from entering contests now to art college to selling my work in my own store that preferably influences the entire world. That's a pretty big dream, I know, but I know I'm unique so I might just be able to make it happen. I've always had this idea about being an artist in my mind, but I think I started to take it seriously around sixth grade. There was this mini art contest at my homeschool co-op that I entered a painting into. Nothing came of that, but it put the idea in my head. I thought about it for a few months and began to make my plan. I remember one night I was supposed to be sleeping but I couldn't stop thinking about my future art career. I got this random burst of excitement as the idea became real in my mind. I was cuddling with a stuffed cupcake dog and all I could do at that moment was squeeze it as tightly as possible. I hugged my dream and my heart right into that dog. It sort of became my good luck stuffed animal after that. If I'm not mistaken, that same dog, Pugsy, was there when I opened my email two years later and read the words, "Congratulations, your work has been accepted for publication!" At that moment the dream was really real. My heart skipped a beat.
"I'll always love ponies.”
"No, you won't."
“I’ll never like a boy band."
"Yes, you will."
"I won't be a teenager."
"But you can't choose that."
I was a vibrant little girl,
Always with a smile
And a funny thing to say.
I practically lived in my imagination.
Dad called it Abbyland.
I was always singing along
To the theme songs of my favorite cartoons
Over and over
And playing ponies
All day long
But then the cheesy songs faded out
And the ponies trotted away
Gradually,
So I didn't notice.
Now I'm fourteen years old,
Something I never thought would happen.
Here I am.
I used to think I'd never change,
That I couldn't if I tried.
Now I'm not so sure.
I'm a teenager.
How long before I dress like it?
When will I start to hide myself in makeup?
How long before my dolls go untouched? When will video games rot my mind?
Has it already started?
I like a boy band.
This is the beginning of the end.
Maybe I should just give in
And follow the trends,
But I don't want to be
Just any regular teen.
I'm not giving up on me.
I guess this is normal.
I'm just growing,
But what if we can grow too far?
What if we can forget who we are?
When do we outgrow our personality?
Am I leaving myself behind me?
What if I could just flip back a page
And be that little girl again?
Who is she?
Where is she?
I want her
To still be me.
I guess it's good
That life goes on
And bad times pass,
But what's the price?
The good times fade off, too,
And we're left
To miss ourselves.
I'm thinking all this through,
My mind is one big mess,
When the sun smiles down on me,
Relieving all the stress.
I'm six years old again,
Reaching for the sky.
Limits, they don't matter.
I feel like I can fly.
Nothing has changed.
We don't change.
We can't.
What if we just expand?
I've learned to try new things,
And that is good.
I don't need dolls or ponies to be me,
And that is good.
The present is forming around the past,
Like the rings of a tree
Coming in fast.
The first is still there,
Close to the core.
Maybe it's just hiding
To make room for more.
Maybe if I let it happen
And don't go to extreme or extreme,
It'll happen gracefully
And that tree
Will still be me.
Maybe I should just live for life
And like what I like.
I don’t usually go with the flow,
But I won't try or try not to grow.
Maybe someday I'll buy ripped jeans
And try a croptop,
But if I do,
I hope I'll smile in the mirror
And remember to remember
Every heartbeat that brought me there.
Remember who I was,
Who will still be
Who I am.
Remember to cherish every moment.
I'll learn a little maturity,
But I won't lose me.
I've always been here.
Is it wrong to like good music?
Am I still me if I don't watch kids shows?
The outside doesn't define me.
I know
I will always be
That child
At heart.
Six pages.
I have six pages
Of scattered words,
Broken rhymes,
Unhinged ideas of identity,
And fake confidence.
"I know who I am,”
The poems struggle to say.
Sure, I know who I am.
I'm not worried,
Not about that,
But what about who I was,
Who I will be?
If I can change so fast,
Who am I, really?
What does any of it mean?
Six pages
Of trying to understand myself,
Of brain battles,
Of tangling myself around.
I'm a spider
Caught in my own web.
What have I found?
Nothing.
I'm more confused than ever.
I've only learned that I,
Whoever I am,
Am my own worst enemy.
I still have six pages.
Six pages
That I'm trying to unscramble,
Six pages
That I will figure out.
Six pages
Can't get the best of me.
Whoever I am,
I'm determined.
Six pages
Don't stand a chance.
It was the very beginning.
All was perfect,
Like a beautiful Van Gough,
Until the fall.
God gave His people a choice,
Good or evil,
Purity or defilement.
They chose to sin.
Like black splotches
Blanketing the canvas,
We are all tainted.
Anyone who has ever done wrong
Is an evil sinner.
No matter how small the deed,
However many good things we’ve done,
It doesn't matter.
You are an evil sinner.
I am an evil sinner.
Every person
Ever to live,
All sinners
Except one.
Long ago, a Child was born
In a manger,
A humble birth for a king,
For the King,
The Son of God,
The Artist coming to restore His painting.
It was the second beginning.
That Child,
Christ,
Would become our Savior.
Justice says that
Sinners deserve to die.
Mercy says that
We're no longer sinners.
Christ took our sin,
Forgave it,
And died to pay for it.
All we have to do
Is trust
In Him
To be saved.
I will be saved.
You can be saved.
Death came from sin,
So Christ defeated both.
His grave is empty.
Now He is in Heaven,
The unspoiled picture.
I will meet Him there one day.
Will you?
I'm exhausted.
What are these emotions?
Where did they come from?
I feel so happy
I want to cry,
But I'm all heavy and helpless.
I want to cry.
All I can do is live,
But why do I live so slowly?
I want to fly,
But I keep pulling myself down.
How do I get out of my way?
This is all nothing.
I'm making it up in my head
But it feels so real.
Why do I almost like it?
A hundred words I'm trying to say
Blare in my ears,
But I can feel the immense silence
Behind them.
Am I really saying anything?
I want to pour my heart out,
To write my every feeling,
But I don't know where to start
Or where to go.
Is this real?
I don't understand.
I don't know.
But there's a pencil in my hand
And I'm holding on to it.
Holding on to my words,
All of the colorful thoughts in my mind.
Holding on to each smile
That floats me through the day.
Holding on.
I guess I'll start there.
Ugh.
I want to scream
Or cry.
My mind is fuzzy.
I want to sleep,
But dreams are better
In the day.
Every morning
I think, ‘This is the day.
Today I'll do everything right.’
Every night
I feel heavy as a weight.
‘Sleep tonight,
I'll do tomorrow right,’
I always tell myself.
So the cycle goes.
Filled with painful ninety percents
On schoolwork
And too many saves on Pinterest.
In between.
My words mean nothing.
I say what I'll do
To start or end the circular day,
But I never do it.
I say it to keep my wheels turning.
I don't want to stop moving.
Even if I ride in the same old ruts
Over and over again,
At least I'm moving.
The circle grows smaller
Little by little.
I'm growing dizzy.
I spiral smaller and smaller
And soon I'll have nowhere to go.
Dizzy, so dizzy.
I need to get out.
I need to break free.
These ruts,
Why do they hold me?
I'm done
Running in circles.
There are infinite tomorrows,
More blank pages,
New roads to explore.
A whole future for me to write.
I need to start somewhere.
I'll go for today
Before today is yesterday.
It might be scary,
But I'm so dizzy there are stars in my eyes,
So I don't care.
I'm going for it.
The rut is broken.
No more, 'This or that will be the time.’
This
Is
The time.
Now my head is clear.
Type A,
Are you serious?
Type B,
I can't stand this.
Type C,
I mean it, please stop.
Type D,
You can't just put me in a box.
What do you think we are?
Are humans so simple
That you can sort us out
Like Uno cards?
Well, skip my turn.
Count me out.
I'm a wildcard.
Are we all red, blue, green, or yellow?
What about teal, vermillion, lilac, magenta?
I don't want to be a normal color.
What is normal?
No two people are exactly alike,
So nobody is normal.
We're all a different shade,
But even that is too limited.
I told you, I'm a wildcard.
You can keep lying if you want.
I don't mind if you're ok with
"Type normal",
But I think I'll go with
Type me.
Maybe I'm cool.
Maybe I'm fine,
But when I'm with you.
I lose my mind.
I might be insane,
But why use my brain?
It's fun to be stupid.
We don't break the rules,
We don't cross the lines,
But we might break our bones,
And the lines do get bent.
We're teenage girls
Expanding our worlds
And this is the best time.
To be alive.
I'm normally calm.
Compared to other kids I'm an angel,
But I'm still stupid
And smart about it.
I am careful
That as far as I can see,
The only person I could hurt is me,
So let's go a little crazy
And laugh until it hurts
And then just be.
Maybe I'm a regular baby
Writing a poem about my mommy
But I don't care, I want you to see
Why she means so much to me.
She wakes me each day with a smile
And then jokes with me for a while.
She uses her time to teach.
Without her I couldn't reach
This height. I don't know,
How she does all this to help me grow,
But she is, somehow
A superhero now!
"We should probably start to head back soon,” Dad says as we walk down various trails in the woods.
"I guess so," I agree sulkily, "Let's just see what's up there first." I point up the path to where it winds gracefully through a sea of ferns. Dad checks the time on his phone and agrees readily. He loves nature just as much as I do. Being out in God's creation makes us feel closer to Him.
Dad tries to always be close with God and honor Him. Whether he is at home caring for his family or at work making the money to provide for us, Dad does it all to honor God. He preaches at church and teaches all of us at home so that he can always be sharing God’s blessings. Dad does so much, and all of it is with a happy personality and a lot of love. Dad reminds me of Noah in the Bible because of his strong faith in God that makes him righteous, which also makes him stand out from the rest of the world. He always does God's will selflessly and he brings his family along the whole way.
I'm so thankful that God gave me this amazing father to laugh with and learn from. I hope I can be like Dad one day because he is a wonderful reflection of God, our Heavenly Father.
I listen. I think. Always when I hear someone talking about something other than video games, I listen. Always when I have a question, I think. And then inspiration strikes. Out of nowhere a careless comment or a silly question creates the basis for a short story of even a novel. They say writers are great thieves, and it's true. I wrote this all down. If it is too amazing to wait, I start working right away. Otherwise I save it to fight off any writer's block I may encounter.
I pull out a notebook, take it to my back deck, and start with that inspiration. I take that idea that fell from the sky, and then I build it out with creativity. I breath life into the characters by answering a list of simple questions about them, making them unique pieces of myself. I map out the plot, making it different from the story I found it in, adding my own bits and pieces until it can only be recognized as my own beautiful idea.
Next I write the first draft. I just get it out. I write a page or more and then I stop to think, to find more inspiration. Sometimes I need a chocolate break, or to take myself away from it entirely and play outside. However long it takes, I get it all down and then
the editing process begins.
I edit thoroughly, pausing to consider every detail and reworking many parts. I go through my checklist of aspects to pay attention to, and then I reread it again to get it to perfection. After this I type it into Google Docs, making little changed along the way. And then my baby is ready and I find a way to share it with someone.
This is how I work. Maybe it's different for you, but I love to write with the birds chirping around me. I pause occasionally to look towards the woods before turning back to my paper and pencil. I like to plan it all out first. Once I start the real writing, then it can just flow free without any hindrance. That is the best part.
Dear Future Me,
How does it feel to be an adult? It feels weird enough to be 13! Today Mom was working on school for next year and I saw a paper that said 'Abigail Rater -- Grade 8' at the top. It just looked so big! Not as crazy as 'Kennedy Rater -- Grade 10', though. How about 'Mason Rater -- Grade 4' or 'Maddy Rater -- Grade 2'. I can't believe how old we're getting! Your well past all of those by now, though. Did you go to college like I plan to? Were you able to major in art and writing? Did you make a career for yourself? Enough questions. I've been trying hard to get my work out there and I'm sure the answer to all three questions will be yes! If not, well, I guess it's God's plan. No matter what, I hope you have, do, and will use the talents that God gave you for His glory. If not, it's never too late to start. 2020 has been a bit of a rough year for us, but there is still so much to be thankful for. God gives us new reasons to smile every day, after all.
Sincerely,
Your Past Self,
Abby Rater
Dear Baby Alives, Hello! I guess you think my name is Erica or Bella Ballerina. Well, I'm not really either of them. My name is Abby and it always has been. When we played together my sister (you usually knew her as Annalise) and I liked to pretend to be our favorite characters and those were some of them. Sorry about that confusion. Now I'm just Abby.
I remember the day I got you, it was a busy Christmas of rushing around celebrating with every single relative. I think I was very tired by the time we got to Great Grandma's house. I unwrapped the first four of you hurriedly and, I'm sorry, I wasn't too interested. I must have been distracted by all of the people talking and laughing, all of the sugary food (even though we had just stuffed ourselves at Nana's), and the wrapping paper flying everywhere! I spent the ride home crying over a stuffed bear because she had '2013' stitched on her paw and it didn't look or sound nearly as nice as 2012. After that I just forgot about you, so you lived on the kitchen table for about two months. I'm sorry.
Mom was actually about to donate you but, thank goodness, my sister and I got bored and decided to open you. Of course we instantly fell in love. Your faces were so cute and you were just the right size to take on any adventure. I was either very generous or incapable of playing on my own and I let my sister have Mackaila and Hailey, but I kept Ella and Lilly to myself. My sister got Sarina and Sydney for her next birthday and when Sarina hurt her neck we managed to meet the other Sarina and the other Sydney! I misread one of the boxes when the next two came along so someone called Louaou came with the other Lilly. Last to come was Lulu and our group was complete.
I'm sorry we doubled up on so many names and I'm very sorry that we named your home Baby Bikini World! We had picked up the word 'bikini' somewhere and we thought it was very fun to say (because it is).
We had some very fun times picking a "Cutest" each day to receive special treatment and swaddling up in old baby socks at night. Instead of going to sleep right away we would stay up late talking and pretending we were in dreams. Do you remember?
You were such a big part of my life and I owe so much to you! You were the models for a lot of my early drawings (my sister and I wouldn't hang any pictures up in our room besides the ones we made of you!) and now a piece of my artwork is going to be published in a real book. The first story I ever wrote was about you, and now I don't know what I'd do if I couldn't figure things out by writing about them. What about crafts? The experience of sewing tiny cloths for you has helped when a stuffed animal needs fixed or my favorite pants have a rip. Thank you for all of it.
We used to talk while doing math, but last year I worked hard to focus on my pre-algebra textbook (and I was only in seventh grade). We used to clean up our messes slowly using my brother's toy dump trucks, but now I fold laundry just because I like to be useful. We used to pretend that I was your babysitter, but now I can actually stay home alone with my younger siblings. I've changed a bit, I guess. I'm more mature now, but I'm really not that different.
I know I don't play with you every day like I used to and maybe I get embarrassed when I forget to put you away when my friends come over (sorry!) but I still love you. I love the sharpie smudge on Louaou's cheek, Sarina's wobbly head, and the loss of almost all of your shoes and binkies that reminds me of all our old fun. That's right, I'm still the same little girl with the poofy skirt and the constant giggle. I still love dolls and other babyish things and that's ok. I still jump at the chance to watch a Barbie movie with my little sister and that's ok. I am responsible and I am a child. Yes, I can have both. Nobody is stopping me from loving my dolls, not even maturity! I will always love you and any other harmless thing I like and it's all thanks to you. Thank you for being so lovable that I just have to be like this, because it makes life a lot brighter when the world is in chaos.
Sincerely Your Loving Kid,
Abby Rater
P.S.
If you see any Polly Pockets or LOL Dolls, please share that last part with them. The American Girl Dolls also say hi and thanks.
AR
In all of my 13 years of life, I've always lived in the same state in the same county. Though I used to live in what Mom now calls "the ghetto" my family has really always been country folks and that's my only cultural influence.
Although I only live in one physical world, I have another sort of fantasy world inside my head that is in some ways separated. When I was little I would get very concentrated on something that nobody else saw and Dad would say that I was in Abbyland. Nobody talks about Abbyland much anymore, but I still have a whole world up there. The only difference is that now whatever happens in that world gets spilled upon pages in either words or pictures, whichever suits the mood best.
My worlds are both equally real, and they help each other stand and make me who I am. I want to show this by bringing you into each of my worlds.
It's almost lunchtime and I sit at the dining room table waiting for Mom's help with my science book. She is busy
explaining some complicated algebra in front of the computer. She sits at the wooden extension on the end of our table. Her hair, graying at the tips but dark everywhere else, is pulled into a loose bun and her hoodie has a cross on it. Kennedy wears a look of annoyance and confusion with her eyebrows scrunched together on her tan face. Her greenish-hazel eyes keep darting towards the clock on the oven.
Meanwhile, Mason has already finished his schoolwork. "Hey Dad!" he begins.
"What?" Dad asks with a smile as he looks up from his phone. He had been working on a sermon with his brow wrinkled in two lines of concentration.
"It was funny, on Veggie Tales..." Mason begins explaining every detail of one little joke that he heard on TV.
"Well that's fun!" Dad says brightly, though I can tell he doesn't really care. With Mason's big mouth and glasses, I'm surprised there's any room left on his face for the fat Rater nose.
Maddy and Benjamin are in the living room playing with Frozen dolls and Mario stuffed animals. They also finished school. "Benjamin, make Bowser say, 'What are you doing?'" Maddy commands.
"What aw you dooen?" Benjamin repeats in a monster voice. The game continues on like that. Maddy brushes her messy hair out of her face and has a hard time getting her purple glasses untangled. Benjamin has a quizzical look on his face, I don't know why. His thin legs are just the right length to reach the couch, which is their play surface.
Gracie makes the scene even more chaotic. She is sitting on the table holding a board book and pretending to read when she sees our dog, Annie, trot by. Gracie's curls frame a face that is taken over by a giant smile. "Kit-ty, kit-ty, kit-ty!" she says in a high voice. Then she crawls over to look and ends up falling right off of the table! Everyone drops what they were doing and runs to see if she's OK. She is, and now she has seven family members comforting her and calming her cries.
This is my first world; my home with my big, caring family.
Now enter my second world. Wade through the questions I ask myself and the answers that are the foundations of my stories. Find the strings of ideas just waiting to fly off the tip of a pencil and feelings anticipating expression. Look around at the peaceful thoughts, hopes, and dreams weaving together into a beautifully calm fantasy.
I am sitting amidst whatever scene I wish to draw. Right now it is a bright green dome of leaves full of light and color. A notebook is in my lap and I am scribbling vigorously, pausing often to think and stare into the distance. My eyes light up with an idea and I send it around the test tracks in my mind before squealing in excitement. Then I turn back to my paper.
This is my second world, full of ideas and fantasies. It doesn't take as much explaining as my family, or maybe I just don't have the right words to tell any more, but it is just as crazy in a peaceful sort of way. Maybe nobody understands that besides me, but I love it nonetheless.
My two worlds are very different -- that you can clearly see -- but I need both of them and they both need each other. My family often serves as inspiration for what goes on in my mind and notebook, and my younger siblings are always glad to listen to my writing and share their opinion. My family is always supportive in my attempts to make my work into something big, and I am so thankful for that. On the other hand, when I have a problem with someone, art and writing help me to calm down and/or know how to deal with the situation. These are just a few examples. My worlds aren't like oil and water. They mix, but at the same time they stay two different things, so they are more like salt and water.
One thing, or being, really, permeates both my worlds and holds them together. That being is God. My parents have always taught us the Truth, and everything special about our family focuses on honoring God. Meanwhile, I try to bring glory to Him with all that I do in my fantasy world.
I get out the dollar store pallet of watercolor paint and the magenta cup full of all kinds of brushes and covered in all colors of paint splotches. I inhale deeply and find the comforting smell of paint like an old, musty friend. I take a piece of paper and place it on the wide area of newspaper put there to protect the already messy tabletop. Time to paint. I've always loved to draw and paint for as long as I can remember, and my parents say I'm really good at art for a third grader, but my paintings usually only consist of dozens of random blobs. I hope that that's about to change. I pick up an odd type of secret weapon, a thin-tipped brush, not considering the amazing power that it most certainly holds. I paint the outline of a dolphin in black. I color it in with blue and continue to paint all the other sea life I've studied in my co-op science class. I look at my handiwork with astonishment. A smile spreads across my face. This actually looks like something. I can hardly wait to show my mom, my science teacher, my grandma, everyone. This is only the beginning.
For a while Thanksgiving seemed to bring bad luck for my family. When I must have been about seven years old, Great Grandma got sick on or near Thanksgiving. I think we were at Nana's house when Mom told my sister and I, but I'm not absolutely sure. There might have been a lump of worry in my stomach, but I wasn't too concerned. Great Grandma had been sick before and she was always fine. Nobody I knew had ever died, so I guess it didn't seem possible.
It was probably a few weeks later that we took the drive that I don't remember in our dirty red van with Dora stickers on the inside of the windows to the hospital. There was a long wait in the clean but stale smelling waiting room with Grandma and Grandpa and a lot of other family.
Someone brought sparkly beads and pipe cleaners and I made a bracelet that I thought should be in a jewelry store. Kennedy (my sister) and I played with our baby dolls that we had brought on the sticky hospital cushions. Eventually I got board and got crayons and construction paper to make a storybook about those dolls. My first story. Kennedy's doll was the magic princess
named Makaila. The story was called "Magical Makaila". It was very heavily inspired by Sofia the First and Cinderella even made a special appearance in it. I was proud of my tiny illustrated book when it was finished and stapled together (though I'm not sure where I got all the supplies). I think it was Grandma who said that Great Grandma would love for me to read her my story and Dad who explained that Great Grandma wasn't able to talk so I knew she wasn't ignoring me.
So the two of them took me to the small room where she was. I think I got a hug from those weak arms. She looked so different laying there in some hospital gown instead of her usual big shirts with teddy bears and kittens on them in old lady designs. I sat down and read the story and she smiled when it was finished. I don't exactly remember what happened next, but in a while we were in our red van again, getting ready to leave. I remember most of the time I felt a little bit nervous but mostly indifferent about the whole situation. I didn't think she could die because I just couldn't imagine it. But then Dad was telling us about her last breath and how she had smiled, excited to see the Lord. "Don't say 'last breath,'" Kennedy said through tears. "It sounds too sad."
I love my Great Grandma, who, even while she was dyeing, listened to me yammer on about princesses. She heard my first story and I can picture her up there smiling about how far I've come. Great Grandma was an amazing Christian woman and I know she is in heaven praising God right now. I can't wait to see her again one day and read her another story. This one will be about God's grace.
When you smell something, nerves send that information to the brain. After continually smelling the same thing for a while, though, the nerves stop sending messages because the brain already knows about the smell.
I lived in a not great part of the city until I was nine years old. I always loved the crocuses that grew in our front yard, but I was also used to them coming up every spring. They smelled so sweet and fresh. The tiny balls in the most wonderful shade of deep purplish blue that made up the tapered tops of the flowers were so beautiful.
When I was nine and we moved out, I was sad to leave, but the flowers were no part of my concern. Now I'm grateful to live in a safe place with friendly neighbors and woods behind the house; however, while my yard and the woods have plenty of flowers, I haven't found any crocuses.
I miss the crocuses, even if I didn't always acknowledge them.
My full name is Abigail Olivia Rater. A lot of my personality can be told by this name. Any good story has a beginning, middle, and end so here I'll give the full story of my name.
Abigail. Everybody calls me Abby. I share this title with one of my best friends as well as about five other girls, though I wasn't named after anyone in particular. I also share it with the woman in 1 Samuel 25 who uses good sense to talk David out of getting revenge on her foolish husband. I don't think I'm quite as brave as that Abigail, but I am sensible and I hope my name reminds me to become brave. The name Abigail means father's joy, and I try to bring joy to my whole family. Abigail: It connects to friends, it is sensible and brave, and it spreads joy. I hope I can live up to my name.
Olivia. the part of my name that's all my own. My parents say that before I was born a lot of relatives disagreed about whom I should be named after. Annoyed, my parents pulled a random name out of the sky: Olivia. When I was little I thought my middle name was from a certain cartoon I liked. I asked my parents about it at least three times even though each time
they said no. I sure am glad I was wrong about that! Sometimes my brother and I would make up characters whose first names were our middle names and pretend to be them for fun. Olivia was always adventurous and brave. Olivia: It's all my own even if I have seen it in books and on TV a few times. Sometimes I wish my middle name was my first name.
Rater. Of course I share my last name with my family and this is really an honor. Dad says the name is German, which I find intriguing even if there isn't a second German thing about us. What matters more to me than where the name came from is what I inherited from it. My Dad's perfectionism that I got can be a good thing or a bad thing depending on the situation, but I've always enjoyed sharing his knack for words. Something I hope to get from my family is their independence. My Mom homeschools my five siblings and I and my Dad is an elder and preacher at our small church which they helped start. Rater: it connects to family, and it gives perfectionism, writing, and (hopefully) independence. This one I really hope to live up to and I'll be sad to give it up if I ever marry.
So that is my name. I love the parts that are shared and that they still stay unique. My friend Abby and I are as different as night and day, and each of my siblings has gotten something different from Rater. Still, I like that my middle name is relatively all mine. So, the story of my name does tell a lot about me, but it certainly doesn't define me.
Today I am grateful for my younger sister. It wasn't a great day and I got really grumpy and generally not fun to be around but she still wanted to play outside with me.
Today I am grateful for America, my country. I finished my history book for school today and I learned about Americans commemorating how our country started by celebrating the fourth of July. Throughout history, when any number of awful things were going on, people continued to celebrate our country. It really made me think about what America is. Why celebrate it? America was built on freedom. God created this beautiful land and placed on it people who He allowed to build a country where we can be free to say and believe whatever we believe is right. Now with the quarantine it may feel like our freedom is restricted, but we are still free to believe. I am thankful that my country gives me this right.
Today I am grateful for my Mom. We did our morning yoga as usual but this time my younger brother, Mason, did it with us. I was mad because it's sort of a special thing just for Mom and I, but she was calm and fair and kept me in good enough humor to enjoy yoga even if I did wish it was just the two of us. Later I did get some one on one time with Mom, though it was only at the grocery store. At the checkout she bought me a new flavor of chapstick (just don't tell any of my siblings). We also rented the movie of Little Women and something for the younger kids to watch. Mom read the book when she was around my age and she loved it and was excited for me to read it last year. I loved it just as much. So with our mutual love of the story we cuddled up to watch the movie after dinner. I am thankful for the wonderful time that I got to spend with my Mom today.
Today I am grateful for spring. It's been pretty cold out the last few days, but today wasn't bad. I did some art outside and watched three birds as they loudly squabbled and flapped their wings in a nearby tree. Later I took a walk at the edge of the woods and admired the many flowers preparing to open up any day now. I was cold when I got back from a bike ride with my brother, but it was so good to be outside! I am so thankful spring is here; I don't know what I'd do if it wasn't.
Today I am grateful for God. I could go on for hours with the reasons but I haven't got the time for that so I'll leave it at this: What could I be more thankful for than the One who made everything that is good?
Students, consider your attitude about school for a moment. How would you feel if you heard that you get school off for a week? Most people would probably be excited about this. What if your school got cancelled for a month? What about the rest of the year? What if you weren’t sure when you could go back to school? What if it turned out to be never? These last two questions are the reality of many children living in poorer countries. Maybe you think that this sounds wonderful, but it’s not. School is important. It may not feel like it matters in the grand scheme of life, but it does.
Though most of the news is currently about the coronavirus outbreak, this does not dismiss other topics from importance. The lack of education in poorer areas, especially for girls, may not seem important to us now, but surely it affects those experiencing it. They are very real and so is their problem. While they are experiencing these troubles, we who can learn are likely complaining about how hard our school is or how long it takes. I believe students, myself included, should be more thankful for the ability to learn.
Research shown on youthtruthsurvey.org says that although a majority of students feel engaged in school, only about half actually enjoy going. I am homeschooled, but this still applies. This applies whether you go to public school, private school, homeschool, or cyberschool. There are differences, advantages, and disadvantages to each, but it is all school. All learning. All taken for granted. Here is an example:
I am doing my math at the kitchen table. I read the description of points and lines in my book for the second time, realizing I don't actually understand this explanation of the concept I've had a chapter on every year since second grade.
"Mom, can you please help me?" I ask.
"What do you need help with?"
"This doesn't make sense."
So Mom explains it to me carefully. I still don't understand. She explains again. And again. And again. I won't allow my mind to understand, by now I'm frustrated.
"That is so dumb!" I exclaim. I'm about to cry.
A week or two later I pick up my reading book, I am Malala. In horror I read the true story of a girl who's country is in conflict over many things, including education for girls. Schools were being bombed. Malala got shot in the head at age 15 for standing up for education. In one part Malala wrote, "When someone takes away your pens you realize how quite important education is." And here I am reading in my own bedroom near the window, perfectly safe. I shamefully remember my tantrum over math.
While we look at our books, frustrated that we don't understand it, another child somewhere else is looking at last year's books or a friend's books or the picture of books in their mind's eye, wishing they could be learning right now.
According to humanium.org, about 72 million children can't go to school and about 759 million adults are illiterate worldwide. These numbers are simply crazy, and much of the credit for that goes to poverty (though sometimes, as in Malala’s story, it has more to do with legal conflicts). Poverty affects education in a number of ways. This is proven by globalcitizen.org, which lists a few. The funny thing is, while poverty is preventing learning, education really has the power to end poverty. Concernusa.org says that if all children in countries experiencing poverty could simply read, about 171 million people could get out of poverty; if every adult had an education, poverty rates could be cut in half. Keep in mind that while this is going on we students are probably complaining about our own school. We have this weapon against poverty, why don't we use it?
It's all too easy to find excuses.
"My teachers are boring."
"This subject is too hard."
"School is tiring and I can't think when I'm tired."
According to spielgaben.com, there are legitimate reasons for students to seem to lose interest in school and not care about learning. It is the job of those running the school to minimize these things, however, that does not mean we students are allowed to stop trying. The main issue is attitude. With a good attitude and some effort, we can enjoy school, or at least be thankful for it, despite it's annoying problems.
Education is important in my life. Maybe I’m a bit of a nerd, but I love feeling smart. I am always excited when I find myself reminded of something I’ve learned while doing an ordinary activity. It is an amazing feeling to realize how naturally you can connect your textbook to the outside world. I also want to be an artist and a writer when I grow up and both of these things require education. Anyone can see how education is required to be a writer, but it may be harder to consider it a crucial part in becoming an artist. Art is a creative process, but facts and knowledge are necessary to share it and to make better works. Education is being used all the time in obvious or hidden ways to help people achieve their dreams. Because of this and since we have access to it, it would be simply foolish not to try as hard as we can to get as much as we can out of our education.
Many students who can learn don't want to, and 72 million children who can't learn wish they could. Students may have very good reasons not to like school, but they still need to try hard to learn. We students need to be thankful for the blessing of education. The least we can do is try to have a good attitude about our own learning. If we, as students, take our education seriously, we could help others with their education, too. Learning is very important and before those of us who can learn can help those who can't, we must understand just how much this matters and have a good attitude about it. Education can change the world.
Imagine you are in a warm, dark, wet, cozy place. You are safe floating in the center of this circular room. You don't know much of anything yet, but you will soon enough. You don't do anything on your own, not even eat. You hear lots of muffled noises and eventually you can pick out specific voices that you recognize. You explore a bit by kicking at the walls. You love your little room but you are also excited to come out and meet the world. Unless you don't get to.
I'm talking about unborn babies. Abortion - the killing of these babies - is a serious issue in the world today. A law was passed in New York in January 2019 that made it legal to abort babies right up until the day they're born. What appalls me most is that people were happy about this law. I have a baby sister, Gracie, who is 15 months old. I remember my Mom going to the hospital a week or two before Gracie was actually born, thinking she was in labor. Gracie could have been born that night and she almost was. Do people mean to say that, if we lived in New York, Mom still could have aborted even after
that night when her baby could have been born?
I am a Christian and I am against abortion. Answers in Genesis, a Bible-based apologetics organization, says "Abortion is a battle between worldviews." Since I have a Christian worldview, I will use the Bible for quite a bit of my argument. If yo don't believe the Bible, please still try to be open-minded and consider what I'm saying.
Abortion is wrong. Answers in Genesis, couldn't say this better: "Since abortion destroys a human being fearfully and wonderfully made in God's image, it is murder."
Now think about this: we were all babies once, though we don't remember (and if we did remember I don't think abortion would be as widely accepted). Life can be difficult, but aren't you glad you at least get the chance to experience the good parts? What if you had been aborted? Don't you see that babies - even unborn babies - are humans, too! They are as alive as you and me and it is, of course, terrible to kill a living human.
Does it ever occur to the abortionist that God put that baby in it's mother's womb for a reason? Aborted babies never get a chance, but they deserve to live simply because God created them. Again I will quote Answers in Genesis from a certain article in which the writer says, "Our right to life is ordained by God." What right do any of us have to end a life that God created? Now, remember that God is in control and when something happens He either caused it or allowed it; however, this doesn't make abortionists any less guilty of murder. No matter what the circumstance, abortion is not right.
Someone who is for abortion might say, "What if a woman doesn't want to carry her child anymore? It is her body and her choice." True, it is her body, but it was her choice to run the risk of getting pregnant in the first place; so now it is her responsibility to carry the child, birth him, and make sure he is cared for. The time for choice has passed for her. If she is afraid of the pain, she should rely on her friends, family, and especially God; she should not rely on murder. If someone didn't choose to get pregnant she still shouldn't abort, instead she should try to be brave and if they absolutely can't care for the child they should try to find another good family to care for him since that baby is still there for a reason, even if it wasn't the woman's choice to get pregnant. What about babies that are likely to have health problems? If someone aborts there is 100% chance the baby won't get to experience a normal life, but if the baby is born, he at least gets some chance.
We were all once babies and all babes are made by God so nobody should kill them. Abortion is terrible. It is murder and it does not please God. Romans 12:2 says that God will transform the way we think to make us new and better people if we don't do things that we know are wrong. Now we know that abortion is wrong, but what do we do to help the problem? We spread the truth. We fight for the innocent babies who can't do it themselves. We fight the problem with the armor of God (Ephesians 6:10-18).
Why do we celebrate Easter? Obviously to honor some random bunny who hides colorful eggs full of chocolate. Makes sense, right? Ok, so that story is pretty random. If you aren’t a fan of creepy bunnies (how does he hide said eggs? Weird.), you might say that the holiday is about spring, growth, and new life. This is a lot closer to the truth, anyway. For Christians, Easter is a day to celebrate Jesus’ resurrection after dying on a cross for our sins. I want to share how I depicted that important message in my painting.
What you probably noticed first in my picture was the cloud near the center with a red outline of a heart on it. Most hearts we see are red. Why? Well, I don’t know if this is a real reason, but it clicked for me: blood is also red, and blood can represent sacrifice. Hearts of course mean love. 1 Corinthians 13:4-5 says this about love: “Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.” The best kind of love is sacrifice. Jesus loved us so much, despite our sins, that He gave His blood for us. He sacrificed
himself so that He could die for our sin in our place. That’s real love. John 15:13 puts it clearly, “Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.” I used the first cloud to represent that.
The second cloud, near the corner, is wrapped in some sort of ribbon. This is supposed to be like the wrappings Jesus was buried in. They are wrapped around the cloud because, well, they aren’t on Him anymore! Jesus was more powerful than the grave. He rose again! We read in John 28:6, “He is not here; he has risen!” In verse 12 of that same chapter, “Peter, however, got up and ran to the tomb. Bending over, he saw the strips of linen lying by themselves, and he went away, wondering to himself what had happened.”
Finally, there is the sun in the other bottom corner. You may be thinking I just really like to paint sunsets. Well, I do, but that’s not all. It can be a sunrise, too. Thinking of it that way, it represents a new hope for a fresh start. Because of what Jesus did for us, we can have new life. To quote 1 Peter 1:3, the verse Dad used in his sermon this morning, “Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead.” Maybe that’s why we celebrate the resurrection in spring. The sun also represents the Son, as in Jesus, the Son of God. He rose from the dead to give us light in this dark world. It represents the Son’s ascension to heaven, as well. Finally, if you look at it like a sunset, it could represent the end of the world. It will be beautiful for those who are saved with heaven waiting on the other side. Psalm 16:11 says this: “In your presence there is fullness of joy; at your right hand are pleasures forevermore.” We only have that because of what Christ did for us, and because of His power.
So that’s what Easter is about, not sugar rush or oversized bunnies. It’s about new beginnings because of Jesus’ sacrificial love for us and His power over the grave. It’s about the joy we have in heaven someday, and about Jesus waiting for us there now. The words that really stuck with me from Dad’s sermon this morning are “living hope.” That’s what we celebrate today. As Easter comes to a close, let’s try to remember that every day throughout the year. I’ll leave you with this verse: “But he was pierced for our transgressions, he was crushed for our iniquities; the punishment that brought us peace was on him, and by his wounds we are healed.”—Isaiah 53:5
Life is full of disappointments. That sounds like a pessimistic thing to say, but there is truth in it. People had big plans for 2020, but a pandemic began and then the only item on everybody’s calendar was to stay home. Even when this is all over, things in life will still be unreliable. Unfortunately, life will always be like that. The question is, what can we do about it? The answer? We simply need to focus on what is reliable. God has given us many things in this life that can’t be canceled and that brings us to the most important thing that can’t be canceled: God Himself. God and His love will always exist.
Let’s take a look at Psalm 136:1. It says, “Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good!
His faithful love endures forever.” God’s love endures forever. It doesn’t fade away or get old. No, God’s love is always there. God loves you, He always has loved you, and He always will love you. Nothing could ever change that.
God’s love for us is even more amazing when we consider how undeserving we are. That’s right, Titus 3:3-5 says, “They must not slander anyone and must avoid quarreling. Instead, they should be gentle and show true humility to everyone. Once we, too, were foolish and disobedient. We were misled and became slaves to many lusts and pleasures. Our lives were full of evil and envy, and we hated each other. But— When God our Savior revealed his kindness and love, he saved us, not because of the righteous things we had done, but because of his mercy. He washed away our sins, giving us a new birth and new life through the Holy Spirit.”
What did God do that saved us and washed away our sins? “For this is how God loved the world: He gave his one and only Son, so that everyone who believes in him will not perish but have eternal life.” -- John 3:16. That Son is Jesus Christ, who died on a cross to forgive our sins and rose again to defeat death. (You can read more about this in Matthew 26-28, Mark 14-16, Luke 22-24, or John 17-21.)
Can anything else be said? Love, love, love. God’s love. It will always be there to save us. Store that in your mind and remember it the next time you feel down and disappointed. Now all that’s left to do is give thanks to the LORD through prayer.
From the moment she woke up, Abigail knew that this was not going to be an ordinary day. Then again, was any day ever ordinary? She allowed herself a few more minutes to soak in the warmth of her patterned pink comforter before opening one eye, then the other. She smelled the aroma of lavender that spilled out of the diffuser. She liked how the scent matched the purple curtains. The window shade was closed above the air conditioner and the colorful fairy lights surrounding it were not plugged in, but sunlight still peaked through to light up the room and dance on the off-white walls. The dresser along the right wall held Abigail’s art supplies and a large stack of books on top of it. On that same wall hung all of Abigail’s drawings and in that corner her dolls played. The other side of the room had a tall dresser with a backpack, a camera, and a guitar belonging to Abigail’s sister, who was waking up in the top bunk. Her dance mirror, framed in hundreds of photos, colored the wall and a giant stuffed sloth sat next to it.
Abigail rolled over and took her Bible off of her bedside shelf. She dutifully read a chapter of Luke, underlining several important verses.
____________________
She mentally went through her list of things to do to get ready for the day as she picked out a floral dress and pink capris to wear. Several whiny voices drifted through the door crack from the living room as she dressed.
Oh, did you think this was the story of a perfect girl with a perfect life? Not quite. This is the story of Abby Rater and her crazy but wonderful family. More importantly, this is the story of God’s way of working in their lives.
____________________
As Abby smoothed a brush through her tangled bedhead, she looked over at her sister’s perfect hair. It was dark at the top where the dye had grown out, but everywhere else were waves of a lighter, almost golden, brown. Abby thought bangs looked awful on most people, but Kennedy could make them work. In fact, she could make anything work; everything about her looked perfect.She could be a model if she wanted to. Now look at the contrast between this and Abby’s frizzy mess, which she was now pulling into two tight braids.
Kennedy was bending to kiss Patches, who was napping in her usual spot on Abby’s bed. Kennedy loved cats, sometimes too much, according to all of the scratches on her hands. Macey was a timid little angel. She gave a friendly ‘Brrrroew!’ of greeting whenever she entered a room and she let anyone in the family do anything they wanted to her without so much as swattimg at them. She got scared of new people, though and hid well when visitors came.
Lets just say that Patches had more spunk. Abby liked that Patches had personality, and it likely added to her own bond with the cat. Since the day Patches was found, Abby had been her favorite. Patches made Abby’s bed her own, always there for comfort or cuddle. In return, Abby was often petting and cuddling to show her love. She was, however, careful not to smother like a certain older sister.
__________________
Kennedy threw on a hoodie and saved her extensive outfit styling for after breakfast as she turned on her phone, Abby’s virtual enemy. Kennedy was always staring at that screen texting friends, playing Roblox, watching YouTube, and who knew what else. The one and only good thing about Kennedy’s phone was music. Kennedy seemed to be full of music. She played guitar at church and danced to K-pop songs at home. Abby didn’t understand K-pop whatsoever (what’s the point of music if you can’t understand the words?) and she didn’t like the tunes much, either, but she knew that Kennedy liked it a lot so ultimately (though she would never say so out loud) Abby was glad that her sister had that. After all, her older sister was also her best friend and, when she put the phone down, Kennedy made a great one. The girls did practically everything together and there was nobody Abby liked better to laugh with than Kennedy.
____________________
In the living room ten minutes later, Abby found her four younger siblings. Mason, Maddy, and Benjamin were all watching a YouTube video of someone playing video games on the TV. They may have gotten out of bed earlier than she had, but they hadn’t gotten dressed yet and Abby knew that they hadn’t moved from the couch much.
Judging by the mess of toys, pillows, books, and baby wipes in the room, Gracie had been busy. She sat on the sill of the big triple window holding a bag of chips as big as herself. A smile showed in her dimpled cheeks and scrunched up nose. The morning sunlight came through the window and created a golden halo to surround Gracie’s curls.
“Are we still walking Tucker later?” Abby asked Mason as she shoved pillows and cracker wrappers aside to set a basket of clean laundry down on the long sectional couch.
“Sure,” Mason said happily. He held out his fist for their special handshake.
Tucker was the newest addition to the family, a seven month old hound from the ANNA Shelter. He wasn’t trained at all yet and had a tendency to annoy the rest of the family, but he really was sweet and loving despite it all. Abby and Mason tried to walk him every day to get him out of the house and teach him to behave.
Annie then trotted into the room with her ears perked up. Her tongue hung out of her mouth in what looked like a smile. “Yes, we’ll bring you, too, Annie,” Abby said, bending down to pet their well behaved dog.
“Aww, you’re such a good girl,” Mason cooed, giving Annie one of his signature hugs.
“Kitty kitty kitty!” Gracie squealed as she ran to the dog on her chubby legs.
“Benjamin, want to play Mario stuffed animals in our room?” Maddy was asking.
“Shuw,” Benjamin consented and they scurried off, Maddy humming a tune as she made it up. Maddy was like Kennedy with her love of music, but in several ways she was much more like Abby. She was just as fun and quirky, she said some surprisingly thoughtful things, and somehow they just seemed to come from the same dreamland.
Like Kennedy and Abby, Maddy and Benjamin did nearly everything together and were constantly laughing hysterically about nothing. They were “best buds”. Maddy was the sassy boss and Benjamin the quiet follower. He was very quiet when he wasn’t crying. He did cry somewhat often, but that was the price of his sweet, sensitive heart. It was well worth it.
Abby was folding (and wishing she could fit into) Maddy’s unicorn shirt when Mom and Dad came in from the back deck. Dad was discussing a trucking job that he had applied for. This job had better hours than he was currently working at FedEx so he could provide for the family and have time to see them, which was what he cared about most in life. Mom was listening to him -- she was great at listening -- while putting bread in the toaster, holding Tucker on his leash, and helping Abby with the laundry. It may have been summer vacation and a Saturday no less, but the parents were still working hard and making it look easy.
“I’m sorry, do you need help with anything?” Dad asked Mom as she brought a stack of plates to the table.
“I think I’ve got it,” Mom said with a certain brightness in her tone that matched her smile.
“Let me help you, woman!” Dad exclaimed loudly in his pretend old man voice. The kids all giggled and Dad continued. “Back in my day you accepted some darned help!” The children continued to laugh as they gathered around the scuffed, cluttered, happy kitchen table and Dad continued to tease in his funny voice.
____________________
After breakfast Abby grabbed one of her many notebooks and dashed outside. She climbed up her favorite tree and fondly looked around her. The mossy yard was full of trees, a trampoline, a kitty pool, and several other toys. The paint was still peeling on the deck and the house was far from a mansion but it was cozy and it was home. What Abby loved most about her home city, Harborcreek, was that no matter which way she looked, if she strained her eyes far enough, they would eventually fall on woods. She didn’t have to strain her eyes much to the left, for there was her own little wood that stepped into the yard.
Have you ever felt lonely, discouraged, or angry? Of course everyone has experienced these or other troublesome feelings, but that does not change how terrible they feel for each individual person. It would be great if all of these problems could just disappear and we could always be happy, but that just isn’t how life works. Some people preach that the Bible can get rid of all of your problems and grant your every wish, but this is not true. This world is ruled by sin and it will be until Christ returns. So, if it depends on our circumstances, we can’t always be happy, but leave it to God and we can have something better than earthly happiness: joy. Let’s look at how we can obtain this joy.
Always be full of joy in the Lord. I say it again—rejoice! Let everyone see that you are considerate in all you do. Remember, the Lord is coming soon. Don’t worry about anything; instead, pray about everything. Tell God what you need, and thank him for all he has done. Then you will experience God’s peace, which exceeds anything we can understand. His
peace will guard your hearts and minds as you live in Christ Jesus. And now, dear brothers and sisters, one final thing. Fix your thoughts on what is true, and honorable, and right, and pure, and lovely, and admirable. Think about things that are excellent and worthy of praise.
Philippians 4:4-8
This is one of my favorite Bible verses because it unlocks the answer to the important question: how do we find uncircumstantial joy? If we fill our minds with God and His word, it will fill our lives with His hope, peace, and joy. The way I see it in my mind and the way I chose to draw it, God’s word will wrap around us and comfort us as we are filled by Him so that we can shine through our difficulties.
How do we fill our minds and our lives with God and His word? By getting to know Him, of course! If we read the Bible and pray regularly with open hearts, then we will begin to know God. The more we learn about Him and interact with Him, the more we know him, look like Him, and learn to rely on Him. As we become more like God, we begin to produce the fruits of His Spirit, which fill our lives even more with Him.
But the Holy Spirit produces this kind of fruit in our lives: love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. There is no law against these things!
Galatians 5:22-23
Sounds simple enough, right? All you have to do is trust and set your mind on the right things. It’s really that simple! Next time you’re feeling bad, be prepared. Fill your mind with God right now so that you always know where to look for comfort.
A few days ago I was painting with watercolors. I got very upset when some brown paint dripped onto the best part, which was a pink flower patch in the bottom right corner. After I calmed down, though, I was able to salvage the picture by blending the brown in with more pink and green paint. It actually turned out better than it looked before. See the picture above.
How does this relate to anything at all? Well, God can make good things come out of mistakes or bad things in life, just like even more beauty came out of the mistake in my painting. Let's see how.
First, we need to understand that God has the power to make good come out of bad things. He has this power because He can control all things. Verse 35 of Daniel 4 says, "All the people of the earth are nothing compared to
Him[God]. He does as He pleases among the angels of heaven and the people of the earth. No one can stop Him or say to Him, 'What do You mean by doing these things?'" This is basically saying that God is more powerful than anyone or anything else, He does whatever He wants (and since He is perfect and all-knowing, this is a very good thing), and nobody can stop or question Him. Isaiah 46:10 says something similar: "Only I[God] can tell you the future before it even happens. Everything I plan will come to pass, for I do whatever I wish."
Now we know that God can make good out of bad, but we need to know if He does. While God does sometimes bring just judgement on people, Romans 8:28 says, "And we know that God causes everything to work out for those who love God and are called according to His purpose for them." This means that Christians don't have to worry! If we truly love God and want whatever He wants for us, everything will eventually come together to help us in some way, be it obvious or unexpected.
Though it may not seem like it, God always has a purpose that will ultimately benefit believers. I am not saying that if we believe in God we'll get all the possessions we want and our lives will immediately be perfect, not at all! All I'm saying is that God is on our side and He knows what's best for us in the long run and how to make it happen, even if it makes no sense to us at the time.
Things are pretty crazy right now with the coronavirus and the panic and precaution it has caused. Schools and businesses are closing temporarily. People are buying all the food, hand sanitizer, toilet paper they can get. Some may feel like the world is going crazy, or even falling apart. This is all scary, but the good news is that we don't have to be afraid!
Isaiah 40:8 says, "The grass withers, the flower fades, but the Word of our God will stand forever." This is why we don't have to be afraid, we can always trust the Bible, which never fails even when everything else in life does. "OK," you may say, "The Bible will always last, but what does it matter to me? How will that stop my fear?" Well, it isn't so much the book itself, but what God has written in it that should give us hope.
"In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth," Genesis 1:1. When God created this world for us, it was perfect. There was no sin, sickness, fear, or death. God didn't want the humans He created, Adam and Eve, to be like robots, so He gave them a choice between good and evil. Sadly, with one sin, they chose evil. This is how sin, sickness, fear, and death entered the
world. Now everyone in the world is a sinner.
The penalty for sin is death but the good news is that God sent His Son, Jesus Christ (who was fully God and fully man, and therefore sinless) to die on a cross as the sacrifice for all of our sins. Now that Jesus died to forgive us of our sin, we can go to heaven if we trust in Him. We also need to ask God to forgive us of our sins and He will.
Heaven is a perfect place with no sin where God and everyone who has left this world trusting in Him lives. It is a paradise where God is praised all day long with joy. No matter how hard things get here, those of us who believe in God and all He has done can have the hope of heaven to chase our fear away. We know this world's problems aren't permanent and one day we will be in perfect paradise praising Him.
This is why I drew the earth flying apart with the cross in the middle, standing in one piece. If you look, you will see that there are lines coming from the cross to keep the world from completely falling apart. Jesus died on the cross so one day we can go to heaven, this hope can be what keeps our world from completely flying apart.
What if I told you I was a horrible person?
What if I said that you are, too?
I’m a terrible sinner.
You are a terrible sinner.
Every person
Ever to live,
All sinners,
Except one.
Now you're trying to deny it.
You can't.
Have you ever done wrong?
Then you're dirty.
I'm dirty.
The world is dirty.
Only one man was ever clean
And it wasn't Santa Clause.
Long ago in the city of Bethlehem
A child was born to a virgin
In a stable.
It was a humble birth for a king.
For The King,
The Son of God.
Merry Christmas.
That child, Jesus, was perfect and sinless.
He was the only human ever
Who didn't deserve capital punishment.
He grew up to die.
He took the blame for our sins.
And was crucified
To save us.
He even left the grave
To defeat death.
Merry Christmas!
Now is the time to celebrate
The birth of the greatest man ever to live.
The birth of our Savior,
Who is the only way we can be good.
We only have to trust in Him
And be forgiven.
I don't know about you, but
I think that's a much better gift
Than anything an imaginary man in a red suit
Can deliver;
Salvation.
Hello, here's my name,
But my friends call me Abby.
I live in a world
Completely my own.
My Dad used to call it Abbyland
I think it's my imagination.
I've always been a silly little girl
Wearing poofy skirts and patterned pants,
Doodling my heart out,
Scribbling down stories,
Dressing up my dolls,
Dancing along to Disney theme songs,
And making my friends laugh.
I'm a bit dramatic.
(Maybe more than a bit)
I can be serious when I want to,
I like some "boring" things,
And I'm really good at school,
But it all just adds to the vibrant mesh of me,
Who I've always been
And who I'll always be.
There's just one thing.
I'm 14 years old,
Something I never thought would happen.
I used to say I'd never be a teenager.
Well, here I am.
I'd say I'd never change,
But now I'm not so sure.
"I'll always like My Little Pony."
"No you won't."
"I'll never like a boy band."
"Yes you will."
They were right.
I don't know what happened to my pony figures
But they're gone
And I don't care like I want to.
I can't believe it
But I'm a fan of BTS.
I can't help but love their personality,
Their message,
Their music.
Is it wrong to love good music?
Am I still me if I don't watch kid shows anymore?
It all sounds so stupid,
But if that can change so fast,
What else will I gain and lose?
I'm a teenager.
How long before I dress like one?
How long before my dolls go untouched?
When will I start to hide myself in makeup?
When will violent video games rot my mind?
I don't want to grow up.
They make it sound all great on TV,
But it's a trap.
"Life goes on.”
Yes, it's great to learn and grow,
To let the bad times pass,
But what's the price?
Am I losing myself?
Am I leaving me behind?
When do we outgrow our personality?
How do I stop myself from doing it?
What if we grow too far?
What if we forget who we are?
I've never been able to go with the flow,
But I don't think I'll try or try not to grow.
I think I'll just let the real me show,
Whoever I am, wherever I go.
Maybe I'll just live for life
And like whatever I like.
Does growth have to mean change?
I could just be expanding.
The present is forming around the past;
It's like the rings of a tree
Coming in fast.
The first is still in there,
Close to the core.
Maybe it's just hiding
To make room for more.
Maybe if I let it happen
And don't go to extreme or extreme,
It'll happen gracefully.
And that tree
Will still be me.
I don't understand it all,
But here's what I know:
Right now I have a fuzzy sweater on,
Right now the world outside is beautiful,
Right now I like my dolls,
Right now I'm jamming to a boy band,
Right now there's a smile on my face,
Right now everything is ok,
And right now is a day I want to save.
No matter what the future brings,
No matter how I grow,
This is now
And I'll always have the memories.
If I ever decide
To wear ripped jeans and crop tops,
I hope I'll smile in the mirror
And remember.
I'm still the same little girl
On the inside.
What if I told you I was a horrible person?
What if I said that you are, too?
I’m a terrible sinner.
You are a terrible sinner.
Every person
Ever to live,
All sinners,
Except one.
Now you're trying to deny it.
You can't.
Have you ever done wrong?
Then you're dirty.
I'm dirty.
The world is dirty.
Only one man was ever clean
And it wasn't Santa Clause.
Long ago in the city of Bethlehem
A child was born to a virgin
In a stable.
It was a humble birth for a king.
For The King,
The Son of God.
Merry Christmas.
That child, Jesus, was perfect and sinless.
He was the only human ever
Who didn't deserve capital punishment.
He grew up to die.
He took the blame for our sins.
And was crucified
To save us.
He even left the grave
To defeat death.
Merry Christmas!
Now is the time to celebrate
The birth of the greatest man ever to live.
The birth of our Savior,
Who is the only way we can be good.
We only have to trust in Him
And be forgiven.
I don't know about you, but
I think that's a much better gift
Than anything an imaginary man in a red suit
Can deliver;
Salvation.
Out on the water, I'm with her there.
High speed plays with our hair.
In silly selfies you can't deny
The twinkle in our eye.
We laugh and smile in the sunset.
Summer isn't quite done yet;
There's still just a splash more fun,
Going red out in the sun.
On our way back, a moonlit ride,
Still my best friend's by my side.
The silken water ripples softly.
Let loving peace wash over me.
Oh, how great to have a friend!
Our whispered giggles have no end.
I am now a new teen
And so I'm in between
Young and old,
Old and new.
I'm stuck inside my chrysalis,
Waiting to become a butterfly
But not really wanting to.
I miss being a caterpillar,
When my days were all just fun.
I’m just above the limit
Of my innocent MG books.
And just a bit too scared
For the daunting YA ones.
Too big for my old, simple bike,
Too short for my 10-speed.
Young enough still to love my dolls,
Old enough to be embarrassed about it.
I can enter the contests for teens,
But their writing all stands over mine.
I'm eye level with their elbows,
And their shoulders lock together,
Blocking out the sky for me.
The days of those clean stanzas
With ever-perfect rhyme,
They are all gone.
My words are scrambled,
But falling back together
In a lovely loose verse.
I will be a butterfly
And spread my colorful wings
With an intensified joy,
With more freedom than ever
To be me.
The drizzle turned to rain.
The rain began to pour,
Cooling the humid air
And creating countless opportunities.
We rush outside
And smell the fresh air.
We run around
With no destination,
Simply splashing in laps
Of joy.
We dance in the rain,
Turning our faces to the sky,
Happy
To be alive.
Thunder chases us inside.
Two by two we go,
Slipping and laughing happily.
It's the perfect time,
It seems to me,
To dive into a different realm
By cracking open a novel.
And then the storm passes
And the sun shines again.
The smooth, full puddles
Are the mirrors where
The beautiful sky checks her reflection
And the good natured trees.
Inspect their burly curls.
The creek now flows better than ever,
Like a stream of liquid life,
Carrying every every hope.
Every dream,
All the smiles,
All the laughter,
And everything else
In her sparkling current.
The reeds and leaves crowd close.
Every lovely glimmer of water
That falls upon their graceful forms
Is illuminated
In the sunshine.
What a wonderful day
The Lord has made!
A perfect time
To feel Christ's love.
Some think that rainy days
Symbolize terrible things,
But I find
So many blessings.
Monday.
I eagerly await the end of this week,
The start of May.
Maybe I'll take a stroll in the creek,
But will it be to celebrate
Or to ease my disappointment?
To know this I cannot wait.
Did they like the entry I sent?
Tuesday.
The ground is a magical carpet
Of a flowery array.
Only a few have not bloomed yet;
Most have opened up their glorious petals
To show what makes them so lovely
And when the right time calls
I will bloom, too. Just wait and see.
Wednesday.
I have smiled all night in bed
And also all day.
My art has been accepted!
I have new confidence
That my writing could be, too.
My excitement is immense;
How to contain it, I have no clue.
Thursday.
I bickered with my little sister
In a childish way.
She offended me about a picture.
I came at her with my paintbrush.
I failed to keep my anger in
But next time, into rage I will not rush.
When we fail, second chances let us win.
Friday.
I did not do it this time
But it's okay.
I'll keep on using rhythm and rhyme
To honor God, the One who made me
And gave me the talent and passion.
I will always be loved by Him, you see.
He is here, no matter what may happen.
Am I a poet?
I might not be.
Am I a poet?
Some poetic devices are lost on me.
Am I a poet?
My words are clear and straightforward.
Am I a poet?
Understanding some poetry is hard.
Am I a poet?
Words weave together inside my head.
Am I a poet?
I don't match any poems I've read.
Am I a poet?
I love to write what's on my mind.
Am I a post?
Inspiration is easy to find.
Am I a poet?
With beautiful words I captivate.
Am I a poet?
I was made by a God who can create.
Am I a poet?
He gave me love for poetry.
Am I a poet?
I write for Him with glee.
I am a poet.
I want my own book of poetry,
My heart in words for all to see.
All of my hopes and all of my fears
From all of these wonderful years,
Years of me only being myself,
In a neat volume on the shelf.
I want my poems there to inspire
And to make hopes rise a little higher,
But what I want more than that would be
To honor the God who loves me,
To share his mercy and grace about.
You see, talents aren't just given out.
No, God examines carefully
To see what most fits you or me
So we can do our best possible
And use our talents to they're full
To spread the love
Of God above.
Anxiety is an ugly monster,
Causing problems whatever you do,
Eating away at your happiness,
Eating away
At you.
Anxiety scares sensible thinking away.
It scares the mind, also,
Into worrying.
As a frightened horse is difficult to ride,
So an anxious mind is hard to control.
But it can be stopped!
Though it may seem to be impossible,
God can do anything,
He is in control,
And He loves to help His children.
All we must do is think of
And be thankful for
God and His many blessings.
It takes time and effort, but
God will help defeat that monster in your mind.
"I'll always love ponies.”
"No you won't."
"I'll never like a boy band."
"Yes you will."
"I'll never be a teenager.”
"But you I can't help it
"I can and I will.”
But I can't help it.
I don't love pony's like I did.
I even like a boy band.
What happened to me?
What about dolls and poofy skirts?
How long before they go too?
What about crop tops and violent movies?
How long before I'm into that?
Has it already started?
"Life goes on,”
But what if I don't want it to?
What if I could just flip back a page
And be a little girl again?
Who is she?
Where is she?
Just when I start to understand
Life gets crazy once again.
What if life didn't go on?
What if I could just hit pause?
Bad times pass,
Sure, that's great,
But what about the good times?
I want to stay forever
In my little world of ponies,
But I can't.
Life goes on.
Bad times pass.
Good times stick around.
I'll always have the memories.
They go on and on with life
As I make more every day.
It was never about the ponies,
And liking good music was never a sin.
It's about being me.
I'm not defined by dolls or skirts.
If I ever like shorter shirts or video games,
I'll still be me.
Nothing important can really change.
Life goes on.
I grow.
But I still have the same smile.
I always will.
The only thing that's changed?
I've learned to try new things.
We sit together, her and I,
Watching the movies
That every small sister
Must see.
It’s only for her.
She needs this childish fun
Now.
It’s only for her.
Barbie's musical glittery, overly-kind voice fills the room,
And the screen is flooded
With sparkling pink magic
And the same live cartoon faces
Playing numerous characters.
It’s only for her
I have to remind myself.
Then I glance down
At my bubblegum pink nails.
They are chipped,
Though I just painted them.
I see my dress
With the unicorn,
The sequins, and
The pink tulle skirt;
The dress that makes my older sister
Roll her eyes,
Create an expression
Of disgust and surprise,
And beg me to change.
I will not change.
I admit it.
I don't want to grow up.
I’m a child at heart.
We all know I still play
With my dolls,
Unashamedly fixing their hair
With oh so much care
And picking out the very cutest
Of their old-fashioned dresses.
I don't have to fully grow up.
I can still be
A child at heart.
We all know I'm mature
In the ways that count,
So what does it matter?
Do dolls do me harm?
They won't get in the way of life,
I promise,
So please
Just let me be
That child
At heart.
Sunlight filters through the leaves,
Each with its face turned up
To meet the sunshine
And glow.
Against the pale blue sky,
Their joyful light and life
Fills my eyes
With color.
The stripes of bark and foliage
Extend as far as I can see,
Concealing magical adventures
All the way.
I long to swim
Through the shining sea
Of delicate ferns
To uncover
Those adventures.
I see a mess of long lost trees
Which look to have been cleanly chopped
Many years ago.
I wonder who has done it.
The thought is so vivid,
I can almost see their cabin
Beyond the trees.
Back in real life,
In the present day,
I feel a firm log beneath me
And soft leaves
Gently tickling my thigh.
I have stopped jumping
At the loose hairs
Blowing against my shoulders.
They don't feel like spiderwebs
Anymore
Because parinoía
Is gone.
A queen bee's buzz
Doesn't startle me,
But instead blends
With the incredible chorus.
Of birdcall
And the unusually quiet hum
Of my rambunctious sister's voice.
The stench of bug spray
Doesn't bother me.
It is muted
By the fresh, tangy smell
Of greenery.
It even adds
A sort of summer-like
Sweetness.
In the hollow
Of our own imagination.
Writing, drawing, dreaming
With my sister by my side.
Both with notebooks in our laps,
Happy to have each other.
To understand
The other's thoughts,
To enjoy
The other's hobbies.
To adventure
Together,
But to still be unique.
Being our own people,
Doing the same things
But each in our own way
In the hollow.
Shopping with my teenage sister.
Picking out fun clothes with her.
Eat our fast food in the car
While rain pours down so hard.
Come home to go back out.
To splash in the puddles with no pout.
To bounce on the trampoline
Because more fun we've never seen.
Then she wants to go back in.
"Can we play a board game, then?"
But no, she doesn't want to play.
She hasn't had her phone all day.
And now it's all she wants to do,
Abandoning everything, including me, too.
It's always like that and it's alright
For her to text all day and night.
But today is different,
Today she did some things with me
And now I see an opportunity.
We have started and I don't want to stop.
I want to end the day perfectly like a cherry on top.
There was a bookworm named Abby
Whose sister was way too gabby.
Slamming a book in her lap,
Abby said, "Shut your trap!"
And from then on she was so crabby.
"Here's the mail, Mom, what's in this golden envelope?" Mason asked as he walked into the kitchen with a pile of bills, letters, newspapers, and yes, one golden envelope.
"What's that?” Maddy asked, even though her brother just asked the same question.
“It's an envelope, duh," Abby joked as she walked by then, "Woa! Is it heavy?"
Mason weighed it against the other mail, "No, not really, it really isn't that heavy. I mean..." His answer took a long time considering he is eight years old and likes to repeat himself.
"Cool!" Benjamin said, though he hardly knew what was going on.
"Mo-o-om!" Maddy called in her whiny six-year-old voice.
"What?" Mom asked, coming out of the laundry room with an overflowing basket of laundry in her hands.
"Do you know what's in this golden envelope?" Abby asked.
"No, I don't think it's a bill, it's probably just a really fancy ad,” Mom answered.
“It's addressed to our whole family," Abby said.
“So can I open it?" Mason asked.
"I wanne open it!" Maddy whined.
"Let me open it!" four-year-old Benjamin said, just wanting to be in on the argument.
"Mason asked first, he can open it, tell me what it is,” Mom said as she began to fold the laundry.
"Try not to rip it, I'll keep the paper for a craft if nobody else has a use for it," Abby said. She didn't have to ask him, he was cutting the gold paper as if it were real gold. A typed letter was pulled out of the envelope. Mason tried reading it but could hardly make out what it said. Abby took the letter and began to silently read.
“What does it say?" all three of the little kids asked at the same time. "Uuuum, ‘I am very sad to inform you that Henry Rupert Billowerd has passed away. I am his son, your long lost cousin and/or second cousin, Rupert Billoward. Henry was quite wealthy and wished to give $1,000,000,000 to every family related to himn, closely or not so what you must do is…’ then there's a bunch of legal stuff I don't understand,” Abby said when she finished reading.
“Wait, what?” Maddy asked.
“It says that apparently our super rich long lost uncle died and we inherited a boat load of money! "Abby said, it didn't matter much to her because she figured Mom and Dad would just put it into savings in case they ever needed it. Benjamin didn't really care because he didn't really understand the concept of money. Mason, on the other hand, was crazy with excitement, he was already picturing himself sitting on a pile of lego sets as big as the house. He was also jumping up and down and flapping his hands like a clumsy bird that forgot how to fly. Maddy was dancing around the house and thinking of all the different toys she would get on every trip to Walmart. Of course she would forget about the toys the day after she got them but that was a minor detail.
"What are you doing?" Kennedy asked as she walked in with Graclie in one arm and her kindle in the opposite hand. Nobody could tell if she was annoyed or jokeing, at age fourteen, she was usually annoyed.
"We won a bunch of money and I'm gonna get a tower of lego sets!” Mason shouted.
“I didn't hear anything about lego sets but yeah Mom and Dad inherited $1,000,000,” Abby said. "Wow!" said Kennedy.
"Aaaa!" screamed nine-month-old Gracie.
"Calm down! "Mom told everyone, “When Dad gets home from work I'll talk to him so we can decide what to do with the money.
"Do we get any of the money?" Mason arked at lunch the next day. Mom and Dad looked at each other in a weird way. “Wha?"
“We were thinking about giving each of you a little bit of it to teach you about handling money,” Dad said.
"Really? Yay! How much?" all the kids started talking at the same time.
"Probably just $100 each, we'll save the rest." Mom said.
"One hundred dollars!!!" most of the kids shouted at once.
“Can we go on vacation next Summer?" Abby asked.
"Maybe," Mom said, this produced more cheers from all the kids. The following week the busy family set off to claim the money. They were shocked to see a set of fire trucks, lights on, their hoses going into the bank. Smoke was billowing out of the windows. Not knowing anything about the situation, Mom and Dad figured it would be a good idea to come back a different time. On his way home from work a few days later, Dad drove by and saw that nothing seemed wrong at the bank so he stopped in.
"May I ask about that fire last Saturday," Dad said.
"Oh yes, that, we're not sure what started it but it began in the room where the bills are kept in the box for the Rater family," the worker said.
"Oh no! I'm Mark Rater, I assume you have all of it digitally somewhere though, right?" Dad said.
“Yes we were able to recover your money earlier today, would you like to take some out sir?" the worker asked.
"Yes please, if you wouldn't mind," Dad said.
"How much?" the worker asked.
"$500 please," Dad requested.
“Right away sir," and then he left to retrieve the money.
“I’m gonna get a lego set, and a stuffed animal, and a nerf gun, and..."
"Mason, you don't have enough money for all of that, and don't you want to save some?" said Kennedy, annoyed.
“How do you know I won't have enough money?" Mason asked, now he was also annoyed. Kennedy made a noise somewhere between a grunt and a groan. Then the two were off bickering for the rest of the drive to Walmart, so a whole two minutes. As it turns out he did not have enough money and ended up spending all of it on one huge lego set. Maddy took a long time to choose, then she bragged about having $50 left over from the baby doll and clothes for a different doll that she got. Benjamin went nuts and wanted to buy the whole store, since he couldn’t do that, he finally got some Paw Patrol cars and a Spider Man car. At that point Mom and Dad are both thinking, ‘This was a terrible idea!’ Kennedy and Abby decided to save their money so finally the parade of people and toys left.
When Mom and the kids returned to Walmart to get groceries, it was a mad house outside. As it turns out, the day after the Raters went shopping a burglar came in the night and stole all the money in the cash register as well as expensive electronics and... toys? Mom decided they would just shop at Aldi’s for a few weeks. After unloading the groceries from the car, Mom sent the three oldest kids to get the garbage cans from the end of the driveway. As Mason was picking up one of the cans, he felt something stuck to it. "Wait, what's this?" he asked, holding up an old-looking brownish yellow paper.
“It's a note, here, lemme see that, it says 'How have you not figured this out by now? With that money you also inherited a curse. Bad things will keep happening wherever you put the money or spend it. The only way to reverse this curse is to bury all the money and mark where it is so nobody steps on it. If anyone steps where the money is buried, they will die!’" Kennedy read, her eyes getting wider and wider.
“Yikes, creepy!" Mason said running to the back with the garbage can.
"It's like a Nancy Drew mystery! Let's try to solve it,” Abby said, almost forgetting how creepy it was.
"Maybe after we tell Mom and Dad,” Kennedy said. "Mom, Mason found this on one of the garbage cans, it's really creepy," Kennedy said five minutes later.
"Wow! that is creepy!" Mom said. She knew it wasn't a joke, at least not by her kids by the serious looks on their faces.
"What should we do about it?" Abby asked, “Can we solve the mystery?”
Mom thought for a minute. “Curses aren't real, so either someone who is superstitious left it to be nice, or some kid left it as a prank, either way, how did they know about the money or our address?" Mom asked, more to herself than the girls.
"Maybe it was a criminal, bad things did happen where we left the money. Maybe someone is spying on us and making those things happen!” Abby exclaimed.
"I'll talk to Dad when he gets home from work and we'll try to figure out what to do," Mom said.
“So, about that note,” Kennedy said, jumping into Abby’s bed that night.
“So weird,” Abby said. “If it is a criminal, we need to catch him, let’s find suspects.” The girls thought for a moment.
“How do we do that?” Kennedy asked.
“Not a clue,” Abby said.
“Hmmmmm…” the girls thought some more. “Why would anybody want to do that?” Kennedy asked.
“Good question, maybe we should start with that,” Abby said, grabbing a notebook. She flipped to an empty page and wrote "Motives" in bold letters at the top with a green pan. After about a half hour they hadn't come up with anything and were very off subject talking about nail polish. "Night guys," Meson said, as he was walking past their bedroom.
“Night," Kennedy said, rolling her eyes.
"Wait, Mason, can you help us for a sec?" Abby asked,ignoring Kennady's eye roll.
"Sure, since Maddy won't let me sleep anyway," he said angrily "Great, so you know that note you found on the gachage can, we're trying to figure out who left it and I think I might have an idea." Abby said.
"Thanos?" Masan suggested, this produced an eye roll from both girls followed by,”Oh, ha.Ha.” and, “Really? Just stop it."
"Seriously guys, we should set a trap to catch the criminal," Abby said.
“We should use rabbit traps like in ‘Peter Rabbit,’” Mason suggested.
“That would work, if we had any of those,” Kennedy said, dripping with sarcasm.
"Or we could just call the super hero squad," Maren went on.
"You're hilarious," Kennedy said flatly. Because of all the bickering it took a long time but the kids eventually came up with a plan. “So this Friday we ask if we can sleep in the loft, Maddy can come but don't tell Benjamin about it. Once he falls asleep Maddy and Mason come up, Abby and I will already be up there setting up. How about we don't tell Maddy until we're about to go up. She's sure to spoil it but we can trust you, right Mason? Great. Once we're all set to 'sleep' we’ll all go out and bury the money loud enough for the criminal to hear but not Mom and Dad. Then Mason and I will leave and Abby and Maddy will hide. If they see anything suspicious they'll call us on the walkie talkies, but we can’t respond because then he will hear it. They can take Abby's camera to video the whole time. Once he leaves they follow him carefully, when we get there, we search the scene for clues. If they don't see anything suspicious, they can walkie us so we can switch places, got it?” Kennedy explained with Abby and Mason interjecting with, “Yup!” “Great!” and, “Ok!” every here and there. Plans were made with Mom and Dad concerning sleeping in the loft. Friday night everything was set.
“Wait, duh we don't have to actually bury the money, we can bury fake money,"Abby said. So Maddy's pretend money was put in a jar and taken up to the loft. "Ok, we have blankets, flashlights, shovel, pillows, sleeping bags, the walkies, string, I think we're all set, oh, my camera! I almost forgot, be right back," Abby said. Maddy and Mason were awakened and the foursome crept up to the loft. Once Kennedy explained the plan to Maddy they started off into the woods. Abby and Maddy had borrowed some of Kennedy and Mason's black and camo clothes. ‘Scoop! Toss! Scoop! Toss! Scoop! Toss!’ Finally a decently sized hole was dug and the "money" was placed in it. Kennedy thoroughly filled the hole while the others wrapped bright yellow string between some of the surrounding trees. Kennedy and Mason departed with one of the walkie talkies. Maddy and Abby were left alone sitting on the roots of the biggest tree in the woods. "This is no way to hide!" Abby whisper yelled, so they sprawled on their stomachs so only their heads could be seen from the buried money. Abby was worried which way the criminal would come from, though. It got later and later and Maddy started to fall asleep. Abby was also getting tired. Abby sent two beeps on the walkie talkie, their signal for a shift change. Soon Mason and Kennedy arrived, for once too nervous and excited to argue. Abby and Maddy left. “Rustle, rustle, clomp, clomp."
Mason checked his watch, "1:07! Yikes!" he cried.
"Shhhh! We have to be quiet!”
“Rustle, rustle, clomp, clomp, rustle, rustle, clomp, clomp.”
"Shouldn't they be gone by now?" It was nearing 1:30.
“Rustle, rustle, clomp, clomp, rustle, rustle, clomp, clomp.” The noise was getting louder, “Rustle, rustle, clomp, clomp!”
“Mason, the camera!”
“Rustle, rustle, clomp, clomp.” Kennedy sent one beep on the walkie talkie.
“That means they see him! Maddy! Wake up! We need to go right now!” Abby commanded frantically. Maddy drowsily opened her eyes. As soon as she saw where she was and her sister climbing down the ladder, she was fully alert.
“Rustle, rustle, clomp, clomp, rustle, rustle, clomp, clomp!”
"Hurry! we need to get to the other side of the tree so he doesn't see us!” Kennedy whispered. “Rustle, rustle, clomp, clomp.” By now the noise was coming from two directions, their house and the opposite direction.
“I hope that's Abby and Maddy,” Mason said.
"Shhhhh!"
“Rustle, rustle, clomp, clomp, thump!” The footsteps stopped and something heavy nearly landed on Mason's head. Kennedy instinctively put her hand over Mason's mouth to keep his yelp down.
"Shovels, everything's going perfectly," Kennedy's voice was so low Mason could barely hear her but his tongue seemed to have frozen so he stayed silent.
"Looks like them good for nothin' kids listened to our lil tip," a man who looked little more than a boy drawled. Kennedy clenched her fists. “Get to work, Rudy! I didn't hire you as a comrade!” a rudely dignified voice snapped.
“Yees boss,” Rudy said miserably. Just then a softer rustling sounded directly behind Kennedy and Mason. Noiselessly, Abby handed two papers and a pen to Kennedy. One paper read, "Sorry we took so long, what's going on?" It was a good thing Kennedy's eyes adjusted to the dark a long time ago.
“That teenager's name is Rudy. It sounds like he works for that other man, who seems to be too stingy for money-digging. They've only been here about two minutes," Kennedy scribbled on the other paper. “Click!” That unfortunately satisfying clicky pen was what gave them away.
"Um, boss, deed ya’ll hear dat?” Rudy asked.
“I certainly did," the other man said. He was walking towards the kids. Closer, closer.
"Mason, give me the camera. I have a plan,” Kennedy whispered. Closer, closer, closer, flash! “Run!" Kennedy yelled, and run they did, as fast as their legs could carry them.
"Geed em’!” Rudy cried.
“Not so fast, they’re just worthless children,” the boss said.
“Wait!” Maddy called. She was far behind the rest of her siblings.
“Maddy, this isn't a game, listen to me, we are running for our lives, hurry up, I'll hold your hand," Abby said as she rushed back to her sister. They didn't stop running until they sat gasping for breath at the foot of their parents' bed.
“What the heck is going on?" Dad asked groggily.
"Is everything ok?" Mom asked. So the story was told. Let’s just say that Mom and Dad were not pleased, especially considering it was past 3:00 AM and they had been sound asleep. The fear combined with the lecture set all four of them crying. The noise woke Benjamin up and he cried out of confusion and because his brother and sisters’ vacant beds scared him. Gracie also wake up and was not pleased. So most of the Rater family was crying loudly at 3:00AM. Mom got to work making Gracie a bottle and hugging Benjamin to stop his crying. Dad had to step outside for a moment to calm his temper. Once he came back in he calmly explained to his 4 oldest kids why what they did was wrong.
"I'm proud of you though, that stakeout was a brave thing to do,” Dad said.
"Thanks,” Mason said.
“Yeah, and it was scary," Maddy agreed. The older girls just hugged their Dad. The other kids joined in and almost squashed him.
"We'll call the police and let them deal with those guys, ok, they won't get away with scaring our kids," Dad said.
"The pictures!” Mason cried.
"You're right," Abby said, picking up the camera that had fallen on the floor. "Blurry, blurry, only shows the ground, this one might be good, it shows them and in the background I can see the hole and the shovels. Oooo, here’s a shot of their faces!" Abby cried triumphantly.
“Let me see that. Wow, great job guys," Dad said.
"Ha! that guy even looks evil!" Masen laughed.
"Haha, he's like your classic cartoon bad guy, " Abby laughed.
“That is what he looks like!" Dad laughed.
"Oh, he does, "Mom laughed. Soon the whole family was laughing so hard they could barely breathe. The following day prints were made of the photos and they were delivered to the police along with the note. Once the whole story was explained to the police, they said they would start work on it right away as they were already on the robbery and the fire.
A week later Mom got a call saying the police found the men. "We just need kids to confirm one and we'll send him off to jail, the other was already convicted of several robberies,” the man on the phone said.
"Ok," Mam said, “Be there around 4:30." The kids confirmed both the suspects. It was found that Rudy Arnold had been at Harborcreek Youth Services. The other man, Miles Terry, had hired Rudy to do his dirty work by falsely promising to give him a share of the money. Mr. Jerry had been Henry Billoward’s best friend since childhood and he was angry that these relatives that Henry hadn't even known got more money than he did. Being a vengeful man with a bad temper, he had kept tabs on the family and their money and caused a disaster wherever the money went. His next step would have been to do something to their home if the note didn't work.
To celebrate they went to Menchie's for ice cream. "Mason! Save some m&ms for other people! Ug! You are so annoying!" Yup, criminals caught, things were back to normal for the Rater family.
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