My Mom, she shares her life with me;

Her joy and frustration,

Everything.

I help them when they’re down,

When they need to get the feelings out.

A distraction or an escape,

I can be there

Right away.

Maybe I don't do the most,

But I listen and I care,

And I am strong

By being there.

God is a loving Father. Fathers always want what's best for their children, and God is no exception. Our heavenly Father wants what's best for us. Another indisputable fact is that some people need to be alone to recharge. Because of the fall, people need rest, and God designed us to do that in different ways. Human nature is deeply flawed, which is why we get tired in the first place, however, God doesn't have anything against the natural way we counteract this tiredness. Jesus even says specifically that He wants us to rest in passages like Matthew 11:28-30: “Come to Me, all of you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. All of you, take up My yoke and learn from Me, because I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for yourselves. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light.”

You might be thinking that the above verse doesn't apply, because Jesus was speaking of coming to Him, not hiding away by ourselves. The truth is, for a Christian, the two things aren't far apart. The Holy Spirit is always with us, so even when we're alone, He's still with us. Obviously there's a difference between coming to God in prayer and just lying in bed and staring at Facebook, but God is with us through it all. Psalm 139:7-8 says, "Where shall I go from your Spirit? Or where shall I flee from your presence? If I ascend to heaven, you are there! If I make my bed in Sheol, you are there!"

God is always with us, and we were actually created to serve Him. This means that we don't live our lives for other people. We live them for God. One way we serve God is by serving others; helping them out and brightening their days. Another way to serve God, though, is to take care of the body and mind that He's given us. Oftentimes this means taking some time by ourselves. Of course, the main way we praise God is directly; by talking to Him, reading His word, and spreading the gospel. Our calling does require us to have contact with other people to some extent. In fact, Christian fellowship is very important. Still, there are many aspects of serving the Lord that can be done alone and even work better that way. 

Throughout the Bible, people have talked to God and met with Him when they were otherwise alone. In the Old Testament, Abraham and Mosas were by themselves when speaking with God. After receiving His message, they'd pass it on to others. In the New Testament, Jesus Himself went off alone to pray. "Very early in the morning, while it was still dark, He got up, went out, and made His way to a deserted place. And He was praying there" (Mark 1:35).

Alone time in itself is not bad. It is a valuable tool given to us by God for rest. As important as it is to spend time with others, it's also important to take care of our bodies and minds. Ultimately, our purpose is to serve God. As people, we could stand to spend more time in God's word and less time doing anything else we may want to do alone, but even these things aren't sinful. The most important thing is to balance the way we spend our time, taking rests alone when we need it, and making room for God in our day.

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

“Who else would I tell this to?”

“You’re such a big doof.”

“I love you,” sounds like

Wordless hugs,

Useless gifts,

Inside jokes,

Sugary snacks,

Warming hands,

Pats on the back.

“I love you,”

Is watching out for the other;

What makes them smile,

The needs they don’t voice.

No matter what,

Love is a choice.

It isn’t just the words we say,

But the things we do,

Every day.

Sometimes, “I love you,”

Sounds like something else.

We want to be a light,

Do all that we can do.

Warm, gentle, and caring,

Yes, that’s me and you.

We’re both so active in spirit,

We just have to let it out,

Try all different things,

Be creative now.

We are the old souls

In our deepest contemplations,

And the most youthful children

In our wonder and our actions.

We are love and light,

Soft, calm comfort,

Blazing fire of compassion, 

Vibrant hues of life.

We are contradictions,

Complex mazes of the mind.

Yes, that’s us,

We’re two of a kind.

miserable? I'm ruining my childhood. I'm letting my family down. “I’m worthless,” I whisper. The words feel too dense for the air, falling to the cement floor like bricks. Maybe because I said it out loud, or the intense emotion just ran its course, but either way I begin to calm down, my tattered breath returning to normal. I look up and unclench my fists, then take a deep breath and stand up on shaky legs. I survey myself in the dirty mirror that leans against a stack of totes full of clothes and books. I got the mirror off of the side of the road a few months ago because I thought I could make something cool out of the glass. My reflection looks almost as worn as the once-elegant trim. There are faint bags under my eyes, and my skin is sticky and gross, besides the fact that I’m beet red. My dirty blonde hair is a mess, and my arms look thin under my big t-shirt. I shrug. I look like the protagonist of a very dramatic movie. Pre glow up, of course. I giggle at that. Yeah, I’m a hot mess, but I’m not in a coming of age movie yet. Plus, I don’t have the right body type to be the protagonist of anything. Most days I feel too small for my body. Sighing, I head inside to refill my water bottle.

I pause outside for a moment, letting the cool air calm my nerves, maybe freeze out the rest of my dramatic thoughts. I’m careful not to let the house's front door squeak, but it doesn’t matter, anyway. The only light I can see is the dim glow from the lamp in the kitchen. It's enough to illuminate my younger sister, Alex, who is sitting at the table wearing a red t-shirt. “Hey, Brooks,” she says nonchalantly.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“Am I not allowed to eat cheese balls at 10:30pm?” Her green eyes twinkle, and her high ponytail looks surprisingly bouncy for this time of night. 

I can’t help laughing. “It isn’t wise,” I point out.

“Eh, I’ll live. What were you doing in the garage?”

“You know I like to craft in the garage.” That isn’t a lie. All of my supplies are out there since it has more space and less carpet than our shared bedroom. I never said I was crafting now.

“Weirdo,” she says as I make my way back to the door, water bottle filled.

I stick my tongue out as I escape, still smiling for a moment. Then I let out a sigh. The whole exchange was so normal. She doesn’t know anything is wrong. To be fair, I have way better control when I’m with people. At least, over things like this. Truthfully, I might flip out about little things, like, multiple times a week. I really can’t hold it together. But I can hide some things. I don't tell anyone that I feel like life is running away. That I think everything I do and say is wrong and my existence itself is a waste of time and energy. No, I just complain loudly for entire afternoons about schoolwork, or freak out when I can't find the shirt I want to wear, or cry for two hours when my sister says something even slightly offensive. I might as well scream from the rooftops that I’m stressed. If I were nicer, I wouldn’t. I feel horrible when my mood affects the rest of my family, but I have no self control. I have to let my feelings out. If only I could tell them the reason just as easily. It's not like I'm really trying to hide anything, because I can't, I just feel like they don’t get it. I’m screaming, but nobody really hears what it is that I’m saying.

Still, maybe Alex doesn’t know that anything is wrong because when I spend time with her nothing is wrong. Much as it hurts that nobody knows what’s going on, sometimes I need a reality check. She doesn’t give me the time to be worried or confused because with her I'm too busy giggling over something stupid or we’re mercilessly skipping each other’s turns in Uno. She’s my bright side, my chill pill, my personified therapy. My sister is my best friend. 

It's just that if I'm being completely honest, I don’t know if she’d even care that I’m upset. That's what scares me most.

I know I’m being stupid. Why should she care? There’s nothing to care about. I’m inventing problems. It’s an illusion for me alone. She has her own life, and probably her own problems. She is the one with the learning disorder, after all. I’ve seen her crying to Mom about her struggles, though she’s usually strong. Gosh, I’m so selfish. I should be worrying about her instead of being upset that she isn’t worrying about me when there’s nothing to worry about. You see what I mean by dumpster fire now, right?

Putting my complicated thoughts and instinct to keep breathing way too fast aside, I reenter the garage and force myself to focus back on my tablet, which is open to a YouTube dance tutorial. Dancing is probably one of the reasons I'm even in this state of mind right now, but it's also something I love to do. I'm dumb like that. I dance all the time for fun, but it's not like I'm any good at it. Now's as good a time as any to change that, though. And if I give my stupid fat body some excercise in the process, that won't hurt, either. Dancing is only one of my many projects (sometimes I feel unaccomplished and empty if I don't have enough short term goals to work on), and lately it's been hard to keep up with all of my endeavors plus school. That's not even to mention family or friends. My entire life feels off kilter, but I really do love to dance, even if the garage is a small practice space. So I turn up the music and focus. 

I'm currently trying to learn "Can't We Just Leave The Monster Alive?" by TXT. I just need to hear, “It’ll be alright, alright, alright,” because right now my whole body is telling me that it will most certainly not be alright. But I don't have to think as I follow the screen propped up against the mirror and the beats playing in my ears. All I have to do is move my body in a certain way, a bounce here and a twist there, and suddenly I'm dancing, and then it's just me and the music and the sweat on my back. And for a while I truly feel alive.

That's until I try to perfect the pre-chorus. I replay Yeonjun’s key footwork around fifteen times, but I just can’t keep the steps in my head. They’re probably bouncing off of the same suffocating wall that keeps reflecting all of my thoughts back onto each other in one big jumble. After another ten minutes or so, I’ve gotten exactly nowhere. Glaring at my reflection in the mirror, I decide that I will keep going until I get it. Twenty minutes later, I’m kicking the wall in defeat.

I decide to work on another end of the world issue instead: crafting. Funny story on that:

"Hey, Brooks, just coming to check on you," Dad said yesterday. He ducked to avoid hitting his head on the hanging light as he entered the garage. A breeze followed him through the door, cooling my face as I hurriedly turned off the phone and went to stand by my craft desk. I pretended I was busy with the glue gun, but it really wasn't even plugged in. "How're the crafts coming?"

"Good," I said casually, even as my mind flickered to the Etsy order I had yet to start.

"You're doing that show with Aunt Dede on Saturday, right?"

Shoot. Shootshootshoot.

"Oh, I almost forgot! Yup!" Or did forget and completely screwed myself. Whatever.

"You've been working hard out here lately. You should be pretty well prepared."

"Uh-huh! Definitely!" Nope. I was not prepared. Not at all. In fact, I was doomed.

I grabbed the phone to text Aunt Dede as soon as Dad left. Scooching myself up to sit on the hood of our old lawnmower, I typed, "R we still doing the craft fair Saturday?"

Her response came through seconds later: "Of course! I'll pick u up at 8."

"K, how much are you bringing?"

"I was going to do 20 hats and 10 paintings. Why?"

"Just trying to figure out how much I should bring." 

'And make,' I thought as I sent the message.

"I'd say around 20 key chains and 20 headbands. Are u doing shirts?"

I bit my lip, drumming my fingers on the back of the phone. I had five key chains made, and the materials for at least fifteen more. I also had the decorations for the headbands, but not enough plastic bases. T-shirts are fun to decorate, but I wasn't sure I had time. Six days to make fifteen key chains and twenty headbands was bad enough. I'd also need to buy more plain shirts. It probably wouldn't be worth it. Screw that. I could do it. It should've been started already, anyway. "Yeah, will 10 shirts be ok?" I typed.

"Sounds perfect."

I smiled. Perfect. I could do this.

So now I set to work. One key chain, four headbands, and a few paint stains on my jeans later, I'm so tired I can hardly stand up without wanting to die on the spot. Besides that, the garage is freezing. I reluctantly trudge back to my bedroom, where I find Alex fast asleep. The wise decision would be to go to bed myself, but do I? Nope. Instead I find myself eating chocolate ice cream out of the carten while watching YouTube at one in the morning. Sighing, I finally turn the device off. I didn't care about anything when it was on, but now I have to–ugh–think. Why am I so stupid? One in the morning on YouTube, yet I can't bear to keep working on things that need done. If I put so much pressure on myself that it causes this weird anxiety thing (which it shouldn't), I could at least hold myself to my standard. I'm being all dramatic, yet I'm still so light on myself. Some days–or nights–the world feels impossible. 

I don't have much trouble falling asleep, my body tired and my mind quickly falling back into the digital world. Of course. I'm pathetic. I do have lots of trouble waking up in the morning, but I eventually drag myself out of bed. It's an hour later than I want it to be, which fills my chest with a tight frustration, but I push past it and open my computer to begin classes.

I realize it's open to a coding screen. That's the other thing I've been working on.

I was headed to the garage with my phone last week when I glanced down and quickly changed my plans. I saw a text from my friend, Zara. "You busy?" She asked. 

I had a feeling I knew where this was going, so I replied with a, "Nope!" Sure enough, I was soon riding my bike down the road, my heart thumping a little too hard. The sky was bright, yellow leaves crossing my path as I pedaled harder. Cold air snapped at my cheeks, and I breathed it in happily.

My heart beat even faster when I came to the end of the road. As always, I hesitated at the light, even when there were no cars coming. I wondered if I should turn back, but I didn't. Eventually I rolled into the busier road and made my way down, towards the park. I flinched every time I heard the whirr of tires behind me, and I could barely see past the tangle of blonde hair flying into my eyes, but the speed made me feel alive.

Zara was already on the swings when I swerved through the gate, skidding on the gravel. "Yo!" I called with a smile, half waving as I hopped off of the seat and put my kickstand down. "Nice hair," I added, observing the purple and blue mixed into her rich brown locks that peaked out from underneath her beanie.

"Thanks, I died it myself," she said airily, brushing it off of her shoulder.

"No you didn't," I told her.

"Fine. They're clips."

"That explains the beanie."

"What? It's cold out."

"Uh-huh." I sat down on the swing beside hers. "So-ome things never cha-ange!" I sing-songed. I knew the clips were horribly scattered on top of her hair, just like she had worn them when we were nine. That had been when I went to public school. Since I started cyber schooling this year, I haven't seen as much of Zara, so it was a relief to know she was still the same goofball.

"Ugh, not Frozen!" Zara protested.

"Come on, you used to have a Frozen backpack," I reminded her.

"Used to. Meanwhile you still have a Hello Kitty T-shirt."

"Hello Kitty is cool, and I bet that backpack is still in your closet."

"I hate you," she informed me. We laughed, our voices echoing across the deserted playground. I kicked hard at the ground as Zara started playing music off of her phone. Soon I was going much higher than she was, practically flying away from the world. For a moment I envisioned the chain breaking. I would just fly forever. I shared this idea with Zara, and she laughed at me. "That would hurt," she commented.

I giggled. "Whatever."

Truthfully, I felt like I was flying already. The park is one of the few places I'm allowed to go by myself, let alone actually have the means to get to. Going there with Zara feels like freedom. With how I've been feeling lately–stressed beyond imagination even though I don't actually have anything interesting going on in my life, trapped in my own mind, boxed in by my stupid temper–freedom is something I'm learning to cherish.

"Oh! I saw this thing online, you have to do it!" Zara exclaimed after a few moments of swinging along to the music without talking.

"Do what? I'm not breaking any laws, ok." I giggled.

"Shut up, I'm trying to explain!"

"Sorry." I held my hands up in surrender, then nearly fell off of the swing. Zara snorted as I hurriedly regripped the chains. "Go on," I said casually.

"It's a coding competition for high schoolers. The winner gets free classes and a trip to LA!"

"Seriously? That's so cool!" I said, designs already coming together in my head.

"You have to do it," Zara said again.

I smiled. Why not? "Duh!" I agreed.

"I'll send you the link so you can look at it."

"You're the best."

We parted twenty minutes later, each heading in our respective direction for the long ride home. I felt light as a feather, full of sunshine and joy.

So that's another thing I've got going on. The days are taking on a regular schedule. Wake up, get mad about waking up late, school, meltdown (some days worse than others), guilt, coding (everyone assumes I'm doing homework on the computer; they think I work harder than I do), go outside if it isn't dark or raining (I'm beginning to hate the dark), dance (usually only for twenty minutes), crafts, watch YouTube, bed. Time is ticking away. Rain pounds on the garage's metal roof more often than not, making me feel even more anxious.

I never get everything that I want done. I always feel like I'm drowning, but in reality I'm fine. My headbands and key chains are getting sloppier. Every time I think I might be getting good at dancing, I look in the mirror and realize I'm still as awkward as ever. As for coding, progress is slow. It's been a hobby of mine ever since I took an online class for fun two years ago, but I've never tried anything as big as this contest.

I guess it makes sense that I'm stressed. It's clear that what I'm doing is too much, but it shouldn't be. I love these things. I want to be able to handle them. I will be able to handle them. Still, I hate this feeling. I know I'm wasting my time being miserable and that scares me, because I only have so much time. One day I'll wake up and be in the 'twenty years later' epilogue, a grown woman with actual responsibilities. I want to be a kid while I can, but I don't know how to escape myself. I try to be carefree, but sometimes it feels forced and leaves me even more stressed. It's like there's a gaping chasm inside of me, blocking the way to what I really want, whatever that is at this point. One wrong step and I'll go plummeting down into the void.

In the end, it's a tiny thing that sends me crashing down. I'm trying to perfect the chorus to "Can't We Just Leave the Monster Alive?", but I keep getting stuck on a certain part. I repeat it over and over. And over and over and over. And– I have no control over my feet. I hear plastic and metal crashing together as I stumble into my desk, sending craft supplies flying everywhere. I don't even hit that hard, it barely even hurts, but it's enough to make the tension that's been building for weeks light up as rage in my chest. 

I choke out a scream, wildly tearing things off of the desk and hurtling them across the room. Buttons, plastic headbands, tape, copper wire, it's all bouncing off of the piles of junk. My eyes are burning. My throat is burning. Everything is burning. I wish I could throw harder. I wish I were stronger. I yank the glue gun's cord out of the wall and throw that, too. A sickening crack fills the air and I look up just in time to see cracks like spider webs spread over the surface of the mirror. I'm frozen for a moment, staring at my fragmented reflection. 

"Are you ok, sweetie?" It's Mom. She cracks the door open and peeks through, concern clouding her brow when she notices the craft supplies littering the already cluttered room.

I humm out a reply, but it doesn't sound all that convincing. Especially since I'm crying the next second. And trust me, I would prefer to not be crying right now, but the tears are there anyway, tickling the inside of my head and spilling out of my eyes. No matter how hard I might try, I can't hold them back. And so I stand there ugly crying in front of the broken mirror. I never could hide my emotions.

Mom doesn't say anything else as she enters the garage, sidestepping clutter to come and wrap me up in her sturdy arms. I remain stiff for a moment, my movements delayed by the thoughts running through my head. It wasn't even twenty minutes ago that Mom was yelling at me about my horrible attitude towards Alex. Guilt washes over me as I lean into her embrace. She's so soft and warm. Why do I have to make things so hard for her?

She holds me like that until my tears subside. My back is a little stiff by the time she pulls away, and then it's only to take hold of my shoulders and look me in the eye. I'm having trouble looking back at her brown eyes, so full of compassion and well-concealed weariness.

"I'm sorry I yelled earlier," she says gently.

"Sorry for being crappy," I reply, sniffling.

"I get that you're stressed. Life can be…a lot. I shouldn't have lost my temper."

"It wasn't your fault." Because it wasn't. It was my fault. I was the one making everything difficult. "Mom, what's wrong with me?"

"I think you're overwhelmed with a lot of things right now. And I think you might not be the best at handling those emotions."

I let out a wet snort at that. "No duh."

I expect her to lecture me, point out all of my mistakes, tell me how to make it better but I still won’t be able to change anything. She doesn't. She doesn't say anything for a while, just takes my hand and gently rubs the back of it. "It won't always be like this. You're so much more than you think you are. You're going to be ok."

On the one hand, they sound like generic, empty words. She can't possibly know that anything will get better, and I like to think I have a fairly realistic perception of myself. Still, I want to believe her. Because she sounds so sure, so sincere. And she's looking at me with love, not judgment or even much pity. "I love you, Brooks. You're so loved. And that has nothing to do with your performance." And that was it, the words that break my resolve, crumble my walls. Finally the pieces clicked into place.

Fresh tears burn my eyes, and I have no choice but to bury my face in Mom's shoulder, letting the soft fabric of her blouse cushion me. She giggles, patting my head and then hugging me some more. 

We pull apart at the sound of Alex screaming from inside the house. "MOM! HOW LONG DO I COOK THE FRICKIN' HAM FOR?"

"Ham?" I ask, immediately perking up from how I was moments ago.

"Your sister's helping, so don't get your hopes up," Mom laughs, getting up to go assist her.

I laugh too, and then feel Mom's eyes settle on me, a fond smile on her face. "You good now?"

I shrug. "Better. Thanks, Momma."

I stare at the door for a few moments after Mom leaves, then turn around to assess the damage… and let out a verbal groan. The mere sight of the garage is overwhelming. It isn't going to fix itself, though. I gingerly pick up a piece of glass from the floor, careful not to cut my finger on the sharp edge. I can see my left eye staring back at me, bloodshot and shiny from crying. I hold the piece back a little and smile without opening my mouth, watching the dimples appear on either cheek. I don't look amazing, but I look alive. And that's the thing, isn't it? I'm still alive. And there's a lot more to my life than what's going on in my mind. 

I think back over the last month, over the good points instead of bad. Laughing with Alex. Swinging with Zara. Teasing Dad. Hugging Mom. Sunshine in between the clouds. Wind on my cheeks and stars in my eyes. People I love by my side. I'm loved. I'm loved by so many people. They might not understand every thought I have, and I might not be able to articulate everything, but they do care. Between all of the business, or maybe because of it, they make my life beautiful. 

It took me a while to realize it, but rain makes things grow. The darker a night is, the brighter the stars are. I might be a little bit of a disaster, but I'm not alone. I don't know anything about anything, but maybe learning is what makes life exciting.

My problems don't all disappear in a flash. This isn't a fairytale. There are still bad days, lots of bad days. Sometimes I kick myself back to square one, maybe even lower than that, but every time I make it back up. The light is definitely shining through. I might not be perfect, but I think I'm going to be alright.

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.

I don’t want to be

Crippled by a dream.

I want to be a daughter,

Making my parents proud.

I want to be a sister,

Giving my siblings smiles.

I want to be a friend,

Giggling through the night.

I want to be an encouragement,

Picking others up.

I want to be a Christian,

Living in the light.

I want to be a human,

Living vibrantly.

Creating magic

In the world around me.

I don’t want to miss a moment,

Focusing on only one thing.

I don’t want to be alone

In my world of beauty.

I want to write.

I want to draw.

I want to blog.

I want to dance.

I want to sing.

I want to have fun.

I want to smile.

I want to talk.

I want to laugh.

I want to help.

I won’t be

Crippled by a dream.

I will be a human.

I will write, draw, blog, dance, and sing.

I will have fun, smile, talk, laugh, and help.

I will live vibrantly.

     Charlie, who sat on Betty’s other side, was talking on and on about the anatomy of a polar bear, brushing back his messy brown hair. He was tall and lean with frosty blue eyes. Despite the fact that he was a total nerd, all of the girls at school insisted that he was hot. I didn’t see it.

     I glanced back to see that Georgia, Charlie’s twin, was patiently translating what her brother said into non-sciency terms for little Fred, who wanted to be a scientist. He was staring at her with round blue eyes, hanging on every word with his mouth partly open. Georgia gestured with her delicate hands, silver bracelets sliding around as she talked. She was an angel, and there was something odd about that. I’d known her my whole life, but I still didn’t know her. I wondered what was beneath the surface.

     “Hey!” I shouted as Nicolas slammed into the back of my seat and jostled my sketchbook. “Watch it!”

     He didn’t respond, instead trying to get Fred into a headlock. In return, Fred punched him. I groaned and rolled my eyes as the boys continued to wrestle in the back seat. Grandma and Grandpa kept up a jolly conversation in the front.

     So now you’ve met the cousin clan. It was always like this when we all came to stay with our grandparents in New York for Christmas: chaos. Betty was my sister; she and I lived with our parents in Florida the rest of the year. The twins were also from Florida. Fred lived in Kentucky and Nicolas in Ohio. We all came to our grandparents' house every year for a month in winter. Hence the chaos.

     "Stop it! I want to hear about the polar bears!" Fred yelped.

     "Nerd!" Nicolas taunted.

     I turned my attention back to the window, tuning the boys out as we passed an elaborate nativity scene. I focused on Mary's glass face. It was carved into a delicate smile, her eyes closed. I wondered how it would really feel to be in the scene. 

     "You know, kids," Grandma said, right on cue, "Mary must have been the bravest woman ever to live. Imagine being the Savior's mother!" Grandma said the same thing every year when we passed the new nativity. It always made me think. How had Mary felt?

     Two days later I was sitting in the corner of a church sanctuary. Kids were running laps and bouncing balls in the room that unfolded before me. Their loud voices echoed under the high ceiling. Adults were chatting and laughing merrily. I could see soda spilled on the floor near the pizza table; cookie crumbs litteredhe gray carpet. My sketchbook was open in my lap. I scribbled a few lines down as I noticed two kids chasing each other with a spoon. The kids brushed through the front of the church and I watched as May fell from the nativity in front of the pulpit. I hesitated, then got up to fix the display. The ceramic figure was cold in my hand. I turned her over, contemplating.

     "You're Anne's granddaughter, right?" a voice asked from behind me. There stood a woman about my mom's age with dimpled cheeks.

     My face turned red as I nodded. "Someone knocked this over," I explained.

     "Gotcha," she smiled. "Anything you found particularly special about it?"

      "What?" my brain always seems to work a little slowly in conversations with unfamiliar people.

     "You looked thoughtful; I was wondering why," she shrugged.

     "Just making sure it isn't broken," I said quickly, my face still hot.

      At that moment a little boy started screaming about someone taking his juice box.

     "Hang on," the woman told me, rushing away to help the boy, who I assumed was her son.

     Once she left, I had time to think. Nobody had ever asked me what I was thinking about. Ever. My mind was a veil, my thoughts and questions hidden from the outside world. Nobody ever tried to remove the veil. Not me. Not anyone else. Someone noticing and outright asking what I was thinking about was new territory. Maybe it was a special opportunity.

     "Anyway," I said the moment the woman returned, " I was just wondering how Mary must've felt." I was proud of myself for getting the sentence out before I lost courage.

     The woman chuckled, "She must've leaned on God's grace a lot."

     Now I was picturing some god dancing ballet. "Grace?" I ventured.

     "Giving us what we don't deserve. God probably gave Mary peace despite the crazy situation."

     "Isn't that called mercy?"

     "Mercy is not giving us what we do deserve. How much of the story do you know?"

     I shrugged, "Isn't it a classic story?"

     "Do you know why baby Jesus is our Savior?"

     "Wasn't it because he… actually, no, I don't know," I realized, blushing.

     "He was born through a sinful woman into a sinful world. Everyone deserved to die. The world is still like that today. When He grew up, Jesus took the punishment for our sons by dying on a cross. You might've heard about that around Easter before. If you trust in Jesus, you can have mercy and he'll give you grace when you need it."

     I stared at the woman, skeptical. "Can the world really be that bad?"

     "Think of all the world's problems: war, terrorism, murder. It can absolutely be that bad. Think about your life. Have you ever done something wrong?"–I nodded—"Then you've sinned."

     "Is it always a big deal, though?" I was feeling uncomfortable.

     "Not compared to some things, but it is compared to the spotless world that God intended," the woman said.

     I shrugged, "I guess."

     "Give it some thought," she advised. Just then the kid started telling again and the woman disappeared in the chaotic room. I set Mary down and wandered back to my corner. 

     The world doesn't change in a day. Mine didn't. I nearly forgot about the encounter, but reminders kept popping up. I began to wonder at the lyrics of Joy to the World and other classic songs. I stumbled across a devotional for 25¢ while searching for gifts at the thrift store. I found a gospel tract in the mall bathroom. 

     One night, a few days before Christmas, I couldn't sleep. I reread the tract, flipped through the devotional, and played gospel songs in my earbuds on repeat. I was only getting more curious, so eventually I tiptoed past Betty and Georgia, down the hall, and into the living room. The TV sat on top of a cabinet full of movies and old tapes. Buried behind the Harry Potter series was something else, though: an old, dusty Bible that had belonged to my great-grandmother. I cracked open the ancient spine and flipped to a random book. John seemed good. I sat against the wall, partially concealed by the big tree with the popcorn and mismatched ornaments. I read by the pinkish glow of the lights. And I read. And I read some more. I made the choice that night.

     Fast forward a year. We're here looking at the ice sculptures again. Fred is on his own trying to understand Charlie's words as Georgia is oddly silent. I wonder what's going on in her head.

     "You're quiet," I say, twisting in my seat.

     She shrugs.

     "Want to get out of this chaotic car? It's fine if not."

     "Sure, that sounds good."

     I yell up to Grandpa, and he lets us out, agreeing to pick us up at the nativity in a while.

     "What are you thinkin about?" I venture as we make our way down a lane of frozen candy canes.

     "Nothing really, just… I don't know. I feel sort of invisible," she giggled.

     "I get that. I used to feel like all I ever did was wonder about people, but I couldn't interact with them."

     Georgia snorts.

     "Not just real people, either. I always wondered how Mary felt. I mean, she was real, but like… not contemporary."

     "I bet she was scared. At least if she was halfway human. All of that pressure to be some saint… yikes."

     "Maybe. I still wonder about a lot of things, but I think I know how Mary felt. I think she felt full, knowing that God saw her and saved her and that she had a purpose, you know? I think she felt heard."

     By now we're back at the nativity.

     "You lost me," Georgia laughs.

     I glance thoughtfully at Mary's statue. "How much of the story do you know?" I ask.

     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.

Laura is Tom's crippled older sister. Throughout the play, she is presented as a bit odd and hard to understand. This reflects how Williams felt towards his real sister. Like her glass collection, Laura is fragile. Her entire character is very nervous and anxious. She was enrolled in college but dropped out because everything stressed her out so much that she couldn't do the work. Laura seems stuck in life, but she's content with that position.

Amanda is their mother. She is very picky, opinionated, and controlling. As I mentioned before, she argues with Tom a lot. She also has a habit of holding on to the past. She is always talking about all of the "gentlemen callers" she had at Laura's age. She regrets marrying their father, who left, and takes her feelings out on Laura by constantly pestering her about finding the right man. The climax of this behavior is when she makes Tom invite one of his work friends over to meet Laura. She acts over-eager and ridiculous the entire time, right up until the man, who Laura actually liked in high school, leaves after revealing that he already has a girlfriend. Then Amanda is able to squeeze out some genuine concern for Laura.

All of the characters in this story are unique. Tom is a hard worker who just wants to be free. Laura is an usure, gentle piece of glass. Amanda is an overprotective, controlling mother. As I said in my introduction, the characters are real to the audience because they were real to the writer.

But she is, somehow 

A superhero now!

or another. Well, what do we do? I'd try cutting down on TV time and spending those hours in God's word instead. It's ok to watch some TV, but you need to guard yourself. You can do this by turning off anything that isn't good for your mind and making sure you do other things in life as well. Next time you pick up the remote, try to think about what you're doing first.

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.

JOANNE: Why do I always have to have my baby brother trailing me like some lame puppy?!

PAUL: J-Joanne...

JOANNE: None of my friends have annoying brothers following them all the time!

PAUL: Joanne! Getoutoftheway! (He shoves JOANNE out of the way just as a wide tree crashes right where she had just been standing.)

JOANNE: Paul! (She is sitting on the ground about a foot away from the tree. PAUL is sticking out from under it. He is unconscious.)

SCENE 2

(JOANNE is sitting alone in front of a light blue hospital bed where PAUL is lying, still unconscious.)

JOANNE: Mom and Dad just left to pick up lunch. I'll save my side salad for when you get better since you even eat like a nerd. (She laughs softly.)

(The DOCTOR, a tall middle aged man with dark skin and hair, enters the room. JOANNE doesn't notice at first.)

DOCTOR: If he gets better.

​JOANNE: (She jumps at the voice behind her and the terrifying words it spoke.) What do you mean? You must be stupid, of course he'll get better!

DOCTOR: (He is nervously fiddling with the end of his coat sleeve.) I'm sorry, but we get cases like this all the time.

JOANNE: (She tries to sound sarcastic but her voice wobbles unconvincingly.) A tree falls on a boy every day, huh? Gimme a break!

DOCTOR: A patent comes in sick or injured and the family only talks about when they get better. But when they don't get better, the family wails louder than a siren when I give the news. Been through it a thousand times.

JOANNE: (Tears are now dripping down her cheeks. Her voice is small and scared.) He might not survive?

DOCTOR: I really can't say. Here's my advice: focus on the good memories.

JOANNE: (She is talking to herself quietly.) Good memories...

SCENE 3

(A YOUNG JOANNE is sitting on a bed with a colorful quilt on the right side of the stage, crying. A YOUNG PAUL comes in, a look of concern on his face.

YOUNG PAUL: (He sits on the bed next to JOANNE and pulls her into a wordless hug.) 

YOUNG JOANNE: (She slaps his hand and scootches away.) Go away! You're not Buttercup.

YOUNG PAUL: (He walks towards the left side of the stage with his head down until he comes across a can of cat food and his eyes light up. He opens the can and gags, then walks all around the stage waving the stinky can around.) Here kitty kitty! Comere Buttercup! (The lights slowly darken and get bright again. He yawns and his head nods a few times, but he stays awake. When a yellow cat walks onstage, he triumphantly picks her up and brings her to the bed where JOANNE is still sleeping.)

SCENE 4

(The scene is back to the hospital room with JOANNE and PAUL. The DOCTOR has left.)

JOANNE: (She is crying even more now.) I'm so sorry, Paul! I ruined that like I ruin everything! (She bursts into a fresh batch of tears and puts her head in her hands.) I am a terrible sister.

YOUNG PAUL: (He is speaking from offstage.) Don't worry, Jo. I'm sure you can do better.

JOANNE: Not if I never get the chance! (She starts  angrily pacing back and forth across the floor by PAUL's bed.) What is wrong with me? This is my fault. All of it. I'm such a stupid jerk! (She stops pacing  and sobs, her shoulders heaving.) Paul, (She gasps before continuing.) I don't deserve you. I never have. But it's not fair that you should die, especially not because of me. I need to be more like you , but I can't if you're not here to help me. (She stops and sinks to the ground crying so hard. She curls into a ball and rocks back and forth until she calms down a bit.)

YOUNG PAUL: (Again he is speaking from offstage.) You know what I would do here, try it.

JOANNE: (She takes a deep breath and nods.) Dear God, um, thanks for giving me such a great brother. I'm sorry I didn't realize it until now. Sorry for how I treated him. I promise I'll try to do better if You'll only let him live. Please let him live. Please. Give me a second chance.

SCENE 5

(An OLDER JOANNE is standing in the driveway of a big house next to a red car. An OLDER PAUL is standing next to JOANNE with a big smile on his face.)

OLDER JOANNE: Can you believe I got my learners permit? Soon we'll be cruisin' all across the country! (She opens the car door.)

OLDER PAUL: Awesome! I can't wait! (He hops into the backseat of the car.)

OLDER JOANNE: Um, wait, are you coming today? I mean, this is my first drive in real traffic.

OLDER PAUL: Which is exactly why I can't miss it!

OLDER JOANNE: Are you sure you trust me?

OLDER PAUL: Always.

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.

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 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?

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). 

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. 

At any moment this rope may snap,

And when it does,

Watch me sprout great wings, 

Large as my imagination, 

And fly away

To my home in the stars 

Where all is safe.

I'll bid goodbye to the ground,

Hello to the moon,

Such a jolly father he is. mother he is. 

I’ll greet my siblings, the stars, 

Sparkling and laughing with them. 

I’ll glimpse my mother, sun, 

Hard at work on the other side, 

And wave hello..

I will continue to swim

Through the loving atmosphere; 

Straining to reach the top,

Always just a few strokes away,

Never quite reaching it,

But still enjoying the journey,

Until I'll snap awake and realize:

I didn't travel to the sky,

I was already there.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

in Girl World,' Steffeny thought as she ran to the car and threw her stuff in the trunk. ‘Here we go!’ As she buckled her seatbelt she wondered what adventures lie ahead.

Steffeny woke up to a gentle tap on her shoulder.

“Time to wake up sleepyhead!" her mom said, "We're in Paris!" Steffeny sat bolt upright, sending a notebook and pencil sailing onto the floor. Oops, hurriedly she picked up her things. 

"Mom do you know where my phone went?" Steffeny asked as she ruffled through her bag. 

"I have it in my bag charging. You took some cool pictures by the way," her mom said. 

"Thanks, too bad the height made me so dizzy I couldn't take any more pictures," Steffeny said. 

“At least you got some, now let's wake up those boys and start our adventure!" her mom said. "Already on it, WAKE UP ERIC!" Steffeny hollered as she jumped on Eric's legs and pulled away his blanket. 

“Alright, alright, I'm awake!" Eric laughed. 

“Kids, we are still on a plane!" their mom scolded. 

"Sorry Mom," they both said at the same time. Soon their dad was awakened and they headed off. Two hours later the four of them were riding through the heart of France in a taxi. "Mom! I think I see the Eiffel Tower!" Steffany shouted. 

"Oh look there it is!" Mom said. 

"Wow," said Dad. 

"Cool!" said Eric. They all stared at the beautiful structure for a long time, speechless. 

“It's like one of those aesthetic pictures you see on the internet but in real life!" Steffeny finally exclaimed. 

“Oh shoot, I left my phone in my bag in the trunk,” Eric said. 

"Dang, so did I,” Steffeny said. 

“Mine's dead." Dad said.

“I don't have a very good angle from up here but don't worry, we have a tour of the city tomorrow by Shaline so we can get lots of pictures then. 

“Yeah!” Dad exclaimed. 

“Woo-hoo!” Steffeny cried. 

“Awesome!” Eric shouted. 

"Mom, Dad, wake up, is that the hotel?" Eric asked, nudging his parents awake.

"Oh my gosh I think that's it!” Steffeny squealed. It was very late so they loaded their luggage into their master suit and then crashed down in the beds. The next morning everybody woke up at 1:30pm Paris time. Except Steffeny, she woke up at 10:20am Paris time and finished writing in her diary. Once that was finished she pulled out a purple notebook and began a story about a girl who traveled to Paris all alone, hoping to become an architect by studying the Eiffel Tower. Steffeny paused, biting the eraser nub of her pencil. “It was as if the whole world stopped for a moment as Linda stared up at the amazing structure. It shot straight up into the black sky. Lights flickered on top of the tower, probably tourists. A loud ‘honk!’ sent the girl back to reality. Linda turned around and froze as she saw a navy blue SUV headed straight towards her!" Steffeny stopped and examined her work with satisfaction. "Steffeny! Come have some lunch!" she heard her Dad call.

“Coming!" Steffeny replied as she set her notebook on her bedside table.

"Is Shaline up yet? Please say she is!" Stelleny asked as she skipped into the large suite's kitchen. 

"Right here waiting for you little sis,” Shaline said from somewhere behind Steffeny. She whirled around and was caught up in a huge hug from her sister. 

“I missed you so much!” she said, trying not to cry.

“I missed you, too, but I'm glad you got to come here. You are going to love it,” Shaline replied. 

“Excuse me, hello, it's just me, you know, the big brother you haven't seen in a month,” Eric said. 

“Eric!” Shaline cried. Once the hug fest was done the family decided to rent a car and drive to a café for lunch. Shaline said she knew a great one in the heart of Paris so she whispered something to Mom and directed her where to drive. Soon they arrived at the Eiffel Tower. Later Steffeny wrote in her diary, “I was so excited when we pulled up in front of the Eiffel Tower. It looked even more amazing from up close. The tower rose high above me and the rest of the city. Being there made me feel like I could do anything. Then about six strangers bumped into me as they passed. I was sucked back to reality and as I looked around I saw just how many people there were, hundreds and thousands. Oh boy, I am super duper shy. We had to park a few blocks away and getting there was like trying to get through the crowd at a firework show times a million. I was getting very anxious and then I looked up at the tower and calmed a little. We finally got through the crowds of tourists and entered into the Eiffel Tower. It was very loud inside but once we got to the table that Shaline reserved for us it was ok. The food was SO GOOD! I don't remember what it was called but something delightfully French. We got macaroons for dessert and if Paris had a taste that is what it would be. Dad was a little uneasy about going to the top of the tower but we convinced him. I couldn't enjoy it though! All the people everywhere and all the noise made me want to curl up in a ball somewhere and hide. The view was breathtaking. I took some good pictures. We stopped in the gift shop and then there was the long walk back to the car. They all wanted to see the lovelock bridge but I begged Mom to drop me off at the hotel first. It took a lot of whining, but eventually she gave in. So that's where I am now. Alone in our hotel. Waiting for my family to get back from the fun they are having without me. All because I am too shy. So much for a fun vacation. I would have been better off staying home, then I could at least go outside.” 

"What boring stuff have you been up to while we had fun?" Eric asked Steffeny.

“I wrote in my diary and then I worked on my story for Girl World," she told him.

“What's Girl World?" Eric wanted to know.

"Girl World is a company that makes dolls, books, and magazines, right now they are holding a contest for young girls like me. The winner gets their original story published in the magazine and the basic plot and character ideas for their next Star Girl doll and story." Steffany explained.

“And a star girl is?” Eric asked. 

"Oh right, every year they come out with a new star girl. It's basically the newest character whose story is set in the present time so on January 1st a new star girl will be released for 2039,” she explained. 

“Gacha, that is all very weird but I hope your story does well,” Eric said. 

“Thanks, I think,"Steffeny said. 

"Any time lil sis." 

"I'm starving! What do you guys say we stop at a café for dinner, I have a few up my sleeve. Or we could go to the park and have a picnic, oh! there is this patisary that you guys just have to see! It is sooo good! Or we could stop at le boulanger for croissants, what do you guys think?" Shaline was talking a mile a minute, she had been in the city longer than the rest of the family and took her role as tour guide very seriously. 

“Um, I think we should just eat here, I mean, café food must be so unhealthy. Mom, I know you really care about our diets and stuff," Steffeny said, proud of herself for coming up with such a good excuse. 

"Actually food laws here are much more strict than they are in the USA so we would really be better off going to a café than eating what we brought from home," Shaline told them. 

“Plus we’re on vacation, I don't mind breaking a few household rules just this once," Mom said. 

Dang it! “Well, um, doesn't Shaline have to rest up before the Olympics, isn't that why you aren't training this week?" Steffeny said, thinking fast.

“I'm fine, nothing more relaxing than dinner with my family." Shaline said, grabbing her purse.

“But, but um, well," Steffeny stammered.

“Steffeny what’s going on? You were so excited to come to Paris, don't you want to actually experience it?" Mom asked in concern. 

“No I don't, not anymore, but everything is fine!" Steffeny said fiercely, willing herself not to cry. 

“Everything is not fine sweetie, what's wrong?" Dad asked.

“If I tell you, you will think that I'm a greedy, selfish, ungrateful jerk, because I am," she said, letting just one tear slip down. 

“You are not any of those things and you know it, just tell us what's wrong, maybe we can help," Shaline said. 

"Fine," Steffeny said. 

“...Then I poured it all out. How scary and stressful it was to see so many people everywhere and how nervous I got. I told them how ungrateful I feel because every girl wants to go to Paris and I'm here but I just want to go home. I told them how disappointed I am. Paris not what I thought it would be. The more I talked about it, the more I just wanted to go home. When I finished telling all my problems Mom gave me a hug. 

"Oh sweetie, l know how it feels. When I about your age I went to New York city and I had the same problem,” she told me.

"What did you do about it?" I asked. 

“Nothing, I was miserable for the whole trip and when we got home I was disappointed that I had wasted such a cool adventure," Mom said. 

"If you really don't like the city, fine, but don't let shyness or fear stop you from having fun,” Dad added. 

"Oh, I love the city!" I exclaimed. 

"The Eiffel Tower is amazing, everything is beautiful, and the food is like a bite of heaven, but I can't enjoy that," I said sadly. 

"Why not? What are all those people doing to stop you? Nothing. Just ask yourself what you have to lose," Shaline encouraged.

“I get what you guys are saying but I still just don't know how to stop being so shy," I said in frustration. 

"I know,” Eric said. I was surprised he had spoken up, my brother tries to stay as far away from feelings as much as possible. “If every one of those people out there was either a friend or a relative, would you still be scared or shy?” he asked me. No, I would not. "Ok well just imagine that everyone here is a friend. It's a nice place, if you knew them I bet they would be your friends. Here you can be as crazy as you want, nobody will judge you,” Eric went on. Wow, well said.

"I guess I'll give it a try, is that patisserie still open?" I asked Shaline. 

"Yup, they close at nine,” she replied. So we had baked treats for dinner that were apparently healthier than a USA burger. When I looked around I noticed that every single person was laughing, smiling, and joking around with somebody else. All except one girl, a little younger than me. Before I knew what I was doing I walked to her and asked what was wrong. She muttered something in another language.We tried to communicate for a minute but it was hopeless. I pulled up a translation app on my phone and pieced together that she had been separated from her parents in the crowd. She showed me a picture of them. The girl and her mother looked similar with light brown skin and golden brown hair pulled back into braids. The girl's father had darker skin and hair with a mustache. All three of them had beautiful blue eyes. We asked a few people and then I spotted them near the far corner. I pointed them out and the girl ran to reunite with her parents. Then she turned and pointed at me. I waved at them and then went to find my family. They were all very surprised and proud of me. Honestly I was pretty proud of myself. I guess that was the end of my people phobia. I can't wait to find out what other adventures are headed my way now that I can enjoy them. Let's see!” 

Steffeny closed her diary with satisfaction. ‘Now that is a good story,’ she thought. That gave Steffeny an idea for her Girl World story. She smiled. ‘Dreams really do come true in Paris,’ she thought, Shaline’s dream of being in the Olympics, her dream of becoming an author, and so many more! That just gave Steffeny another idea! 

Sitting at a table in the Eiffel Tower café, Steffeny looked over the beautiful landscape below. Then she looked at her computer screen. Steffeny quickly scrolled through her story one last time to make sure everything was just right. She had written a brief summary of the story that she hoped would be on the back of the book. 

It read: “Annabella loves the Ukulele. She also loves singing. Annabella's twin sister Izzy is a poet and she loves to write songs for her twin. Annabella, unlike her sister, is dreaming big and trying to make it reality. When her parents surprise her with a trip to Paris for her birthday Annabella sees her chance. Izzy isn't so sure about all of this yet. So, two sisters, different talents, dreams, worries, and the trip of a lifetime. How do you think it will all shake down?”

Taking a deep breath, Steffeny closed her eyes and hit submit. ‘Yup, this is real,’ she told herself. 

Steffeny scrolled down to read entries by other girls her age. She wondered what had inspired their stories. “Tink, tink, tink," Steffeny checked her phone to see who had texted her. It was Shaline, she said, “We’re just leaving the grocery store, Mom wants to meet you in the parking lot in 5 so we can get to the Olympics early, can't wait!”

Steffeny quickly typed back, “Ok, can't wait to see you crush it!”

"Eeeek,” Mary shrieked, “Don't touch me or my stuff while covered in that muck!” she ordered. 

“Alright I won't but I don't expect me not to get filthy again, I darn love those woods! I ain't never gonna leave ‘em!" Carrie said. 

"Please remember to speak politely and use proper grammar,” Ma said quietly, her eyes on the ground.

“What's the matter, Ma," Carrie asked flat out. 

"Don't be rude, Carrie," Mary said, though she was curious herself. 

“No, I suppose I should tell you girls sometime,” Ma said. 

“Tell us what?" the girls asked in unison, Mary forgetting her manners.

"Well... we're moving,” Ma said after a long pause.

“What!?" Carrie cried. 

“Why?!" Mary asked. 

"Have you girls seen all the flyers going about for the Oregon Trail?” Ma asked. The twins just stared at their mother dumbly. "Well it is a group of covered wagons headed for Oregon. Your Pa has been losing a lot of money lately due to a few ruffians in town so we decided that this is the best choice to make sure we can support you girls and keep you safe," Ma explained. 

Mary started crying. Even though Carrie's eyes were also starting to fill with tears she was still the stronger, braver twin. She put her arm around Mary and said, "Well we can at least make use of the time we have left at this house." 

"That's the spirit, we don't have to leave for another month, I should have known that my Carrie would find a way to look on the bright side,” Ma said, giving both girls a big hug.

That month was wonderful, the most fun that was ever had at the Rightworth cabin. After chores the days were filled with swimming in the pond for Carrie, reading and working in the garden for Mary, and picnics for all. Then the horrid day came. The day that the twins had been dreading all month. The day they would leave the only house they had ever lived in. They would be leaving all their friends and family, never to return again. 

The day they left was clear and cool. The family drove their wagon into town to meet the rest of the train. Goodbyes had been said, tears had been shed, and now it was time to start the beginning of the rest of their lives. It was 5:00 AM on September 8,1844, a date that would stand in the Rightworth family history for centuries to come. The twins would have liked to crawl back into bed, or at least to hide out in the wagon for the rest of the day. It's not like they weren't used to getting up so early, they did almost every day, but they had cried most of the previous night and were in no walking mood. With the wagon fully packed there was no room for the girls to sit. For the next two hours they walked and walked AND WALKED. Finally it was time to break for breakfast.

Their progress was surprisingly slow so they were now on the outskirts of town. Mary and Carrie scarfed down their oatmeal very quickly and spent the rest of the time exploring around the other wagons. As they were walking by one of the other wagons they saw a girl sitting by one of the big wheels. Mary thought that the girl looked much older, maybe 14 or 15. She quietly kept walking out of respect and shyness. Carrie noticed that the girl held a book and was contently sketching a nearby flower. “Hello!" Carrie said, "I'm Carrie and this is Mary, what are you doing?" she asked.

"Um, hi, I'm Eliza," the girl said quietly. 

“That's nice, what are you doing?" Carrie demanded again. 

"Oh me, I'm just drawing. I promised my Ma that I would write to her about everything but words can't describe this beauty. I vowed to myself to sketch all the scenery and send it to Ma with my letters,” Eliza said. 

"Why isn't your Ma coming with you?" Carrie asked bluntly. 

“She can't, she is pregnant. My Pa is staying back with her, my uncle brought my little sister and I here with him. If all goes well Ma and Pa will come in about a year.” Eliza's eyes filled with tears but she tried to hide it. 

“How terrible for you,” Mary said sympathetically, "Why did they send you ahead?" Carrie asked.

“They said it was to keep me safe but I think they just wanted to get rid of me for a while,” Eliza said miserably. 

“You know that isn't true! I just met you but I think you are a very delightful person. I’m sure nobody would ever want to be rid of you,” Mary said soothingly. 

“I'm sorry if I made you sad," Carrie said.

"It's fine, I needed a good talk, and some friends,” Eliza said. 

"Maybe this trip won't be so bad after all," Mary said.

“Want to come walk with us?" Carrie asked.

"More walking!" all three groaned, then burst into laughter

The lessons in this story? The twins learned that however bad it seemed, they were lucky to have what they had. They also learned that friendship makes things better.

Will cause me to shout,

"Thank You

For all You have given me!"

And I will pray

For those who have less.

" Dear God,

Thank You for my family.

Thank You for my home.

Thank You for my faith.

Please comfort those who have no family.

Please comfort those who have no home.

Please show Yourself to those who have no faith."

When I am sad

It won't be so bad,

For when I'm gloomy as a rainy day,

I will pray

To God.

The future won't be dim

Because I will lean on Him.

I will explain to Him my troubles,

And He will always listen.

"Dear God,

Today my anxiety got out of control again.

Today I argued with my siblings.

Today was a bad day."

I will try to be thankful in

All that happens and once I begin,

It will be quite easy.

This is why:

Everyone since Adam and Eve

Is a sinner.

I am a sinner,

But I am forgiven

Because Christ, 

The perfect Savior,

Died for my sins.

Now all I must do

Is trust in Him to

Be saved;

To live forever

In a perfect paradise, 

Heaven.

I have so much wonderful stuff,

But it's not enough

Without this faith

In God.

He loves me so praises I sing

For He is always listening.

He will always be with me,

Forever.

So why shouldn't I pray?

Happy or sad,

Angry and mad,

Good or bad,

We should always pray.

"Are you ok, Frank,” Mommy asked her husband.

"I'm fine, but the attack didn't go as planned. We underestimated those humans, they know how to deal with wolves. More than half our army was hurt, not badly, but we can't beat those humans, arrrooo!" he cried again in pain. 

"Don't worry so much now! You need to rest. Tracy will get you some soup while I take a look at that leg. We ladies and the men who aren't hurt will make a new plan tomorrow," Mommy says, making the reluctant wolf comfortable.

"Do I have to come with you to the meeting?" Tracy whined the next day.

"Yes sweetie, you know very well that there is nobody to watch while your Daddy rests,” Mommy said in a voice that is both gentle and stern.

"But I don't like hearing about it," the young wolf complained. 

"I know what you mean, but this is going to make things better. We will not let those humans take our land,” Mama encouraged, as she led her daughter to the clearing where wolves attend to all their pack's protection. 

"Awww," Aunt Talila said, "I don't know why any human would want to harm such a sad, adorable baby."

Tracy's response was the tiniest giggle. 

"You just gave me an idea!” Mommy said to her sister. “Maybe we could get humans to see the whole pack the same way you see Tracy," she explained. 

“Those eyes could melt anybody's heart," one uncle said. 

"Should we try it?" another asked. All of the animals froze as they heard footsteps behind them. 

“Well, I don’t see any other plan," an aunt said. Tracy looked up at the humans with a pitiful expression on her face. The rest of the wolves did the same.

"Awwl c'mon Russel look how cute they are!” a man named Jim said.

"Cute!? They're beasts!" Russel exclaimed. 

"But look how sad they are!" another man, Lucus, protested. 

"How would you like it if someone destroyed your home?" Robert asked fairly. 

"As construction supervisor, I order you to start cutting these trees this instant!" Russel commanded.

"And what if we don't?" Lucus challenged. 

"I'm taking the matter up with Lily!" Russel said. 

"And? Lily has a heart, she'll agree to have the mall built someplace else,” Tim pointed out. 

Russel grunted and groaned, stomping back and forth. “Fine! It's not my problem anyway because I quit!" he explodes.

"Fine by me," said Robert.

"Go tell Lily," Jim said. With a final exasperated noise, Russel stomped off.

"Let's go look for somewhere else to build, boys," Lucas said. The wolves watched the humans walk away, astonished. 

"I think it worked!" Aunt Talila said at last. 

"Tracy, you saved the day!” Mommy cried. 

"Let’s go tell Daddy he won't have to fight anymore!” Tracy said, beaming and not looking a bit sad or sorry but even cuter than ever.

"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.

After Katie taught Stefeny how to play and everyone was finally playing, Stefany remembered that she forgot to put the bookmark in her book. ‘What chapter was I on 5,8, no 7,’ she thought. Just then she got clobbered by a softball. Stefeny fell down. Everyone was quiet for a moment, then seeing she was not hurt they all started laughing. She got up and ran home. ‘So much for doing something besides reading,’ she thought. 

"Stefeny wait!” Katie yelled. Once she finally caught up to her Katie asked, “What's wrong, why don't you want to play?” 

Stefeny took a deep breath. “I've just been having a hard time since Shaline left," she said. 

“That’s ok you don't have to play if you don't want to,” Katie said. 

"Thanks,” Stefeny said.

Later when she was on the phone with Shaline, Stefeny said, "All I do is read all day, it's a waste of Summer, when will you be home?" 

"Well,” said Shaline, "If I don't get in then next week..." 

"Yay!" Stefeny said, “You're coming ho-ome! You’re coming ho-ome!” she chanted. 

"Or," Shaline interrupted, "If I do get in I'll be home by fall.” 

“Fall,” Stefeny repeated, “That's so far away, you're sure to get in, I'll waste the whole Summer!"

“Stefeny calm down, we don't know that I'll get in and if I do I'll still come home for a week in between the trials and the Olympics, just remember that God's in control," Shaline said.

"Okay," Stefeny said. But she was still worried.

The next day Stefeny, Eric, and their parents were all huddled on the couch watching the Olympic Trials. Eric and Stefeny's parents all got up and started dancing when they heard Shaline’s name on TV but Stefeny couldn't join them. She would be bored until October.

Stefeny's Mom came into her room and sat on the bed. "What's wrong honey?" she asked, even though she was sure she already knew. 

“Nothing," Stefeny lied. 

“Come on we both know that's a lie," her Mom said. 

"Why does Shaline have to go?” Stefeny asked, "I know I should be happy for her but I'll miss her so much.” Stefeny started to cry. 

Her mom stroked her hair. "We'll all miss her,” she said, pulling Stefeny into a hug, “But she'll come back." 

Stefeny looked up at her Mom. “What will I do until then?" Stefeny asked. 

"You could see what Eric's always doing in that shed,” her Mom suggested. Stefeny shrugged. "Just remember,” her Mom said, "God's in control.” Stefeny told her Mom that was what Shaline said. "That's because it's true," her Mom told her.

The next day Stefeny took her Mom's advice and decided to go see what Eric was building. "What are you making?” she asked. 

"Card table,” Eric said without looking up. 

"What do you need a card table for?" Stefeny asked, trying to see what it looked like over his shoulder. 

“Nothing,” Eric lied. 

“Then why are you making it?" Stefeny pressed. 

"Just because ok!" Eric turned to her with a very mad expression on his face. Tears started brimming in Stefeny's eyes. “Yeesh girls are sensitive,” Eric mumbled. “Tell you what," he said, “Why don't I teach you how to play baseball?" 

A smile lit Stefeny’s whole face. “Guess being over sensitive can be a good thing!" she said as she ran out of the shed with Eric.

"Ok Stef, do you want to be the batter or the catcher?" Eric asked after he explained the rules. 

Stefeny thought for a minute, "Batter,” she said, "I'm not good at catching." 

"OK," Eric said, "But you're going to regret that.” Eric was right; Stefeny was terrible at batting. Every time she threw the ball up to bat it, it fell before she even had a chance. "Why don't you try catching instead,” Eric suggested. 

Stefeny shrugged, "Ok," she said. Stefeny proved to be just as bad at catching as she was at batting. She sank down on the grass in disappointment. Eric sat next to her, "What's wrong?" he asked. "The Stefeny I know wouldn't get this upset over a 'silly sport.’" 

Stefeny sighed. "It's not about the sport, it's about Shalene." 

Eric got up. "Oh no," he said. 

"What is it?” Stefeny asked, getting up too. 

“Is this going to be another of your sappy feeling talks?" Eric asked. 

“How sappy do you think advice is?" Stefeny asked. 

"Depends on what the advice is,” was Eric's answer. 

Stefeny wasn't sure what he meant but he wasn't running away yet so she just poured it all out. "I'm worried I will waste the whole summer because Shaline will be away, I thought maybe baseball could keep me busy but I'm terrible at it," Stefeny paused. "What do I do?" she asked. 

Eric thought a minute. "3 things," he said, "1, trust God, 2, keep looking, 3, not sports.” 

"Why not sports?" Stefeny wanted to know. 

“Well,” Eric said, "It sounds to me like you need something you can play by yourself." Stefeny nodded and Eric continued. "Most sports need more than one person,” he told her. She thought about this for a moment then jumped up and hugged him. 

“Thank you,” Stefeny said. 

“Any time, sis," Eric said.

Stefeny did keep trying, she tried hopscotch (boring), jump roping (too hard), and ballet (not easy to do outside). One day when she was about to give up Stefeny saw someone. He was in the yard two houses down throwing an orange ball in a hoop. Stefeny didn't immediately realize what he was doing, she just realized he was doing it alone. She ran to get Eric. “What's he doing?” she asked. 

“Basketball," he told her. 

“And you can do it alone?" Stefeny was almost scared of the answer. 

“It works better with more people but you can practice shooting hoops yourself,” Eric said. 

Stefeny was inside in an instant. "Dad, can we get a basketball hoop?" she asked.

“Sure honey," her Dad said. “But if you don't mind my asking, why do you want one?" her Dad asked. Stefeny told him the whole story. When she was finished, her Dad just stared at her. 

"What?" Stefeny asked, “You didn't think we wouldn't go to Paris to support your sister did you?" her Dad asked.

"Wait, what!" Stefeny couldn't believe her ears. "You mean we're going to Paris! I won't waste the Summer!" Stefeny paused. “Can I still get a basketball hoop?" 

Her Dad laughed. “Yes, you can still get a basketball hoop.”

Eric knocked on the door. "Can I borrow Stef?" he asked poking his head in. "What is it?" Stefeny asked when they were outside. 

"I got something for you,” Eric said, leading her into the shed. When she saw what was in there Stefeny gasped. In front of her was a beautiful pink desk with intricately curved legs and a cushioned stool to go with it. 

"When did you do this?" Stefeny asked in awe. 

"When you thought I was making a card table," he said with a sly smile. 

"Why?" Stefeny asked. 

"I wanted to give you something and a desk was the first thing that came to my mind,” Eric explained. "You're always reading, you'll be out of books soon so I thought maybe you could write your own stories. I also got you a journal to complain to," he added. 

“Thank you," Steffeny said, hugging him. Now she had plenty to do!

"They're here?!!!!” Trixie was out the door in an instant. 

"Trixie!!!" Colista jumped out of the car and scooped her sister up in a big bear hug. “I've missed you so much!" she said. 

"Not as much as I've missed you!" Trixie countered. 

"Fine,” Colista said, pretending to be upset, “We're even-- in height too, you must have grown 3 inches since I left.” 

Trixie tried to stand a little taller. "I am almost 12,” she said. “Isn't that old enough to go with you on your next mission?” 

Colista laughed. “We'll have to talk to Mom and Dad about that." 

Trixie sighed. "I already did, they said no." 

"Well maybe I can..." Colista started. 

"He-e-e-l-l-o-w, "Mike interrupted, "What about me?" 

"Oh, right,” Trixie said, pretending she forgot. Just then their parents burst out the door. 

"My babies!" their Mom said while hugging Colista. 

"Hey there son!” their Dad said. Everybody was all smiles having a wonderful reunion.

That night after dinner they were all sitting on the couch talking about what happened while Colista and Mike were away. “I had my birthday party last Saturday," Trixie said, “I wanted to wait for you guys but Dad said we can go to Porky’s for my birthday dinner tomorrow.” 

Mike jumped up. "That reminds me," he said, “We should probably wait ‘til tomorrow but I can't wait to give you your gift.” 

Colista handed her an envelope. Trixie eagerly tore it open and read the inside of the card, it said: Dear Trix, Happy Birthday!! Boy do we have a surprise for you. You're going to spend a month in Antarctica with us! Chill out, Mom and Dad said it's OK. We'll work out the details later, for now, start packing! With love Colista and Mike." As she read, a broad smile spread across Trixie's face.

Colista smiled as the plane landed and Trixie clutched her hand so hard her knuckles were white. Colista remembered her first day in Africa. She had been just as excited as Trixie is now. "Are you ok?" she asked. Trixie wiggled in her seat. "Ye-e-es!' she said.

"So this is where we're staying,” Colista said, a little disgusted. 

"Guess so,” Mike said, tossing his suitcase on one of the beds.

"Looks cozy," Trixie said, choosing the bottom bunk. It certainly was cozy, it was a small one room cabin with a fireplace at each end. There was a set of bunk beds on one side of the far fireplace and a third bed on the other side.

The next day they were getting ready to explore outside the cabin. “Trixie, did you pack your camera?" Mike asked. 

"Yea, I'll bring it," she said, "Why are you bringing cans of beans?" 

Colista answered for Mike. "Because your brother is scared of starving in just half an hour.” "Nu-u-u," Mike said. "You never know what could happen, we could get lost out there and starve to death.” 

Trixie looked scared. "So is it safe to go out?" she asked.

“Sure," Mike said, “It's just better to be safe than sorry."

“I'm freezing, can we go back now?" Colista asked. 

"I didn't want to complain but I'm pretty cold too," Mike said. 

"Just a little longer,” Trixie begged. “I don't get to have adventures every day like you do.” 

Mike looked up at the sky. "Ok but not too long," he said, “It's starting to snow." 

"Hurray!" Trixie began running, "Let's make a snowman and snow angels!" 

Colista and Mike looked at each other and shrugged then joined Trixie.

"Ok, we should really head back now,” Mike said. 

"Fine!" Trixie said, "Let's go." 

Colista looked around. "Go where?" she asked. 

"Back to the cabin of course," Mike said. 

"No, I mean which way is the cabin?" Colista asked. 

"It's that way,” Trixie and Mark said at the same time. They were pointing opposite directions. “Don't panic,” Colista ordered. 

"How do I not panic?" Trixie asked, “We're going to die out here!" 

"We are not going to die,” Mike said, "Although we would have a higher chance of living if you hadn't insisted that we stay and build a snowman."

Trixie gasped, "I just wanted to have an adventure!” 

"Well here you go!" Mike said, "Thanks to you we can spend our last days having one!" 

"I thought you said we wouldn't die!" Trixie retorted.

"Well…” Mike started, but before he could finish Trixie interrupted.

“And don't blame it all on me, Colista was supposed to keep track of where we are." 

Before Mike could answer, Colista spoke up, “Stop fighting,” she said, “It's getting late and we'll only survive out here if we work together." 

"How are we going to keep warm?” Trixie asked.

“We use our resources," Mike said.

“The only resource out here is snow and rocks,” Trixie said looking around. 

"I got it,'' Colista said, "We can build an igloo like the Indians did." 

"That could work,” Mike said, "And I brought some sticks to start a fire." 

Trixie stared at him. "How will we start it, or keep it burning?" 

Colista pated her pocket. "I have matches," she said. 

"The wood is pretty wet,” Mike said. “It should last the night, all we need is something to light that can spread to it." 

"I brought my sketchbook," Trixie said.

An hour later Colista, Mike, and Trixie were sitting in a small igloo around a fire, roasting beans on a flat rock. "How are we going to get home?'' Trixie asked. 

Colista put an arm around her. “We don't know yet,'' she said, “But God does, and He will protect us and lead us home if he wants us there.”

"What if He doesn't want us there?" Trixie asked.

"God wants us were He wants us," Mike said, "The Bible says 'God will work out all things for the good of those who love Him.’"

“And we love Him," Colista added, "All we can do now is pray." So they did. They prayed for God's will to be done and for Him to lead them home safely.

The next morning when Trixie woke up she felt like a magnet was pulling her east. So as soon as they were done eating breakfast they set off that way. About an hour later when they were about to turn back Colista saw something. "Didn't we walk along a lake for a while yesterday?" she asked.

“You're right," Mike said, "We walked Southwest from the cabin and then started following the lake." 

"How do we know where to branch off?" Colista asked. 

"I got it!" exclaimed Trixie, who had been looking at pictures on her camera. 

“Got what?" Colista and Mike asked at the same time. 

"The route, we branched off at this big boulder, see,” Trixie showed them the picture on her camera. So they followed the lake until they got to a big boulder then they went Northeast. When they saw the little cabin they all broke into a run shouting, "He saved us! God wanted us to get home!"

books.

     “Bookworm," Carrie muttered. “Look, I think I see a clearing up ahead!”

     The two girls ran to the clearing. “It's the perfect place to build a house!” Mary exclaimed. It really was a great place for a house, there was a large flat spot perfect for a house, there was a stream nearby to get water and plenty of rocks for a fireplace, there were also lots of trees around it. “The only problem is that there is no room for a garden,” Mary said. 

     “I'm sure Pa will be able to level it out,” Carrie said. “Let's go,” Carrie said. “Wait,” said Mary, “How will we remember where it is?” 

     Carrie thought a minute and then she asked Mary, “Do you have your sewing kit?"

    “Yes" Mary said, “Why?”

     “May I use it?” Carrie asked. Mary handed it to her.  Carrie took out the scissors and cut a piece of red fabric off her dress. Mary gasped. “What?” Carrie asked. “It's not like I don't have other dresses," Carrie said as she tied the strip around a thin tree. 

     "Okay," Mary sighed, “Let’s go!”

     “Can we wait a moment?” Carrie said. “I'm tired and my stomach hurts.” 

     "It's probably the poison,” Mary said. “We need to get you to a doctor, Ma will know what to do.”

     “Can't we just take a little break first?” Carrie asked. 

     “Oh, fine,” Mary said, so they took a rest.

     Mary woke up to the noise of Carrie coughing. She looked around. She was in a clearing with trees all around her and she could hear running water, what was going on? Then she remembered the day before. “Carrie, we have to get back to the wagon, come on," Mary said. When Carrie turned to face her, Mary could tell that she was tired and not feeling well.

     “Which way is the wagon?” Carrie asked. 

     “I think it's that way,” Mary said, pointing straight ahead. 

     “I thought it was that way,” Carrie said, pointing to the left. 

     “We will go straight and if we don't find anything then we will go the other way,” Mary said. So they went strait. "AAAAA!” Mary screamed.

     “What is it?” Carrie asked.

     "Snake!” Mary yelled. 

     "Aww, where?” Carrie asked. 

     "Carrie, it's poisonous!" Mary said. Both girls started running as fast as they could.

     When they finally stopped running Mary saw something. “Carrie, look,” she said. 

     “What is it?” Carrie asked. 

     “This plant,” Mary said, “I think it can cure poison berry sickness.” 

     Carrie immediately ripped it out of the grouped and ate it. About an hour later Carrie started to feel better. 

     "Okay, let's go," Mary said. 

     “Which way?” Carrie asked. 

     “I'm not sure,” Mary said. And then just when they were going to pick a direction they heard something. 

     “Mary, Carrie, Marrry, Carrrrie!”

     "Did you hear that? Mary asked.

     “Yes,” Carrie said, “It sounded like…” 

     “PA!” they both said together. 

     “I've been looking everywhere for you girls, where were you?" Pa asked. 

     “It's a long story," Mary said. 

     "I thought you were sick,” Carrie said. 

     "I'll tell you later,” Pa said, “Right now let's get you some dinner.” Pa led the way back to the wagon, and then, there right in front of them was a brand new, beautiful house. It turns out that Pa was never sick and the place where they parked the wagon was big enough for a house. Ma had sent the girls to look for a spot so that they would be surprised. Sometime Pa would clear a path to the spot Mary and Carrie found and build a playhouse for them.