The walls are of conformity.

I can no longer fly free.

Every day,

They try to dye my feathers gray.

They tell me I should hide,

Ignore the light inside.

This cage is small and strong.

It tries to keep me down,

But I won’t ever fall;

My wings won’t brush the ground.

They’ll try to take my heart,

To bring me to the dark,

But I will always fight

And struggle for the light.

I’ll find the one 

To let me out.

I can’t do this on my own,

But I won’t always be alone.

I know there’s someone out there

To help a bird like me,

But until I can find them,

I’ll stay here,

Caged

But free.

In front of the mirror, 

She tries to dance.

Maybe she’ll get a chance.

She’s off to the big city.

She’s buying her own coffee.

She says, “I like your dress,”

To someone she didn’t know.

She’s dancing with the others

Outside before the show.

She’s only in the crowd

And no one even knows,

But she’s here,

And she’s alive, 

And she has a chance.

I’ve never been great at memorizing Scripture, but there’s one verse I always used to think of when I was upset, or felt like the world was falling apart: Matthew 24:35, which reads, “Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will never pass away.” In context, this verse doesn’t mean quite what I thought it meant. Here Jesus had just finished speaking of the end times, and the judgment that will fall on unbelievers. This means that one day sin will be judged, and the world will be made new. The problems we see in the world today won’t hurt us any more.

While the Matthew passage is speaking about end times, it’s also true that every word spoken by the Lord or through the Holy Spirit will last forever. In fact, Isaiah 40:3 says, “The grass withers and the flowers fall, but the word of our God endures forever.” Later in that chapter (verse 31), we read the encouraging words that, “Those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint.” Psalm 91:4 says, “He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.” These sentiments are repeated in multiple passages, including Isaiah 43:2 (“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze”) and Joshua 1:9 (“Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.”) These words were spoken to the nation of Israel, but they still hold true for believers today. In Matthew 28:20b, Jesus says, “And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.” Here, “you” is referring to the disciples, and all believers who are sent out to evangelize the nations. Are worldly problems really significant when we have the eternal God of the universe on our side? Of course, we may still hurt, but we can take comfort knowing that we’re never alone, that God is always right there beside us.

1 Peter 1:3 tells of the greatest truth in God's word: “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! According to his great mercy, he has caused us to be born again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead.” I’ve quoted this verse frequently, as it’s probably one of my three favorite verses. Humanity was dead in sin and hopelessness, but God sent His own Son, Christ, to die so that we didn’t have to. (Romans 5:8: “But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.”) The world may be in shambles now, but it won’t be forever. No matter how hard things get, we always have this living hope that one day we’ll be in heaven, praising God forever. 

A third promise made in God’s word is that He always has a plan. It may be hard or even impossible to understand now, but one day it will become clear to us. In the meantime, we should trust that God knows what He’s doing. Jeremiah 29:11 reads, “‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the Lord, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’” In context, He was speaking to the nation of Israel, exiled in Babylon. If He was with them, working to a much larger plan than they could ever imagine, why wouldn’t he do the same for us today? Paul gives a reason for his own suffering in 2 Corinthians 12:7-10, saying, “Therefore, in order to keep me from becoming conceited, I was given a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong..”

Suffering is never enjoyable. Hard things happen in life. It’s difficult to comfort people who we know are going through these types of problems, and even harder for those actually in the situation to endure. Through it all, though, God’s word remains the same, as does His character. No matter what happens, God is always with us. He’s already sent Christ to save us from our sins. One day He’ll make all things new. In the meantime, He still has a plan for our daily lives. His strength is made perfect in weakness.

I am purring cats, pajama pants

And music in my headphones

I am safe here 

And I am not alone

God is here beside me

Hold my hand, Lord

You are my future hope

Singing me to sleep

Before I reach

Your planned tomorrow

I'm too shy

I don't want to be afraid

But still meek anxiety

Drives me insane

I want to make everyone happy

Be everything for them

But I just keep on failing

Again and again and again

I got sucked down the vortex

Vortex of a teenage mind

In this rolling, racing vortex

Questions are all I can ever find

This crazy vortex

Feels like a roller coaster

I'll fight through what comes next

This isn't over

In this cold and lonely vortex

I'll never be alone

God is here beside me

Guiding me back home

A gentle breeze in my mind

The softest hand holds my heart

My life is in His grip

He's held me from the start 

I'm caught in the vortex

Vortex of my racing mind

In this colorful vortex

Everything will turn out fine

New failure

What we want to change

Always makes a point to stay

What we need to stay

Is bound someday to change

Time flows too fast

They'll fall away

They'll never last

Moving on without us

No one left to trust

When we're stuck here

Trapped by our fear

Running in circles alone

Trapped in this box we call home

Surrounded by the rolling racing tide

But we can't enjoy the ride

Right here we stay stuck

The kids who never grew up

They say we'll learn and grow 

How do they know

They mock all of the adults

Who act like kids

Who won't give their all

Don't know how to exist

How long before that's you or me

Just when will we be

The kids who never grew up

Still we keep going

In the box, our own current flowing

The perfect future

We haven't found

Dusty wings brush the ground

Pulling, hoping, running, falling

Rushing, rising, living, flying

Maybe we didn't grow up 

Maybe we're still stuck

In our quirky reality

But we can still be

The kids who rose above

The kids who never gave up

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.

Timid smiles, full of fear,

And tired eyes bearing tears.

Still it all keeps on turning.

The same old sun, it keeps on burning.

Still we see these flickers of life;

Hearts not yet broken by their strife.

Weathered souls produced by trials

Still endure with gentle smiles.

What if we can get up and rebuild?

What if the cracks in the ground can be filled?

What if hope puts them back together?

To the other side we can weather.

We’re taking charge from now on.

The days of cold and despair are gone.

We’ll stand up, wipe off the dust.

Nothing in this world can break us.

Mirror, mirror, go away.

Don’t ruin me, don’t waste the day.

Mirrored wall breaking down,

I think at last I hit the ground.

     When Kent and Nancy both caught the virus, they had to persevere. Amber had to do the same, as she was stuck back in the U.S. worrying about her sick husband. They all trusted God to bring them through, and He did just that. The event of the virus and recovery behind them, what did they do? They continued in ministry and eventually returned to Africa. They were like Paul in 2 Corinthians 4:8-9, “We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed.”

     It would have been easy to let fear take over and give up hospital work altogether after the scare they had, even if the two were likely immune. Amber hadn’t gotten the sickness, after all, so she was still vulnerable. They didn’t look at it that way, though. Kent saw his close call as motivation to work even harder for others. He knew that his life was valuable and fragile, and he had to make the most of it. Ephesians 5:16 says, “Be very careful, then, how you live—not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil.”

     What are you afraid of? Is this a healthy fear, or does it stop you from doing what God wants? What are you doing with your life right now? I’m inspired by the way that these three people put their fears away for God’s glory. “So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.”--Isaiah 41:10.

I can only escape

Into the grotto of my mind 

But it's lonely up there.

I want to share it with you.

Should I share it?

Please be my escape.

Can we run away together

Right where we are?

Maybe I should let go

But I don't know where to start

And it kills me to be like this

Writing another depressing poem

About everything and nothing

Seemingly real problems 

That don’t exist

But I need to get it out

Sometimes I want to run away

But the person I really need to escape is me

I could leave it all behind

To have a great adventure

But I'd still be by myself 

My thoughts wheeling faster 

I just want to go

But I know I won't

Why am I such a good kid 

Why do I have to care about others’ feelings

Why do I have to feel my own

I need an escape

I used to find it in my mind

But now everything is so tangled 

I’d get lost up there

I guess I'll just keep going

On this rocky path

I'll work until I am everything I want to be 

It might be the wrong mentality

But determination can't hurt

If I'm already broken

I'll keep pursuing my dreams 

And try to enjoy the journey

Even when it feels like the earth

Is swallowing me

I can't run away

But maybe I can fly to new heights

Someday

How to say no.

I don't want to stop.

Please don't give up.

Maybe I'll crack,

But I won't let myself break.

I'll get up again, 

Learn from each mistake.

I'm never going to stop. 

Please don't give up on me.

These wings of glass,

They seem unsteady.

Life is tough.

Am I ready?

Nothing can make me stop. 

I won't give up on me.

And me, the fool,

Writing them out so they look cool.

Am I thoughtful?

Am I deep,

Or is this just cheap,

A plastic cover 

Over my ravings and my rhymes

At the most confusingly normal of times.

Dad called it Abbyland.

I was always singing along 

To the theme songs of my favorite cartoons 

Over and over

And playing ponies 

All day long

But then the cheesy songs faded out

And the ponies trotted away

Gradually,

So I didn't notice.

Now I'm fourteen years old,

Something I never thought would happen. 

Here I am.

I used to think I'd never change, 

That I couldn't if I tried.

Now I'm not so sure.

I'm a teenager.

How long before I dress like it? 

When will I start to hide myself in makeup?

How long before my dolls go untouched? When will video games rot my mind? 

Has it already started?

I like a boy band. 

This is the beginning of the end.

Maybe I should just give in

And follow the trends, 

But I don't want to be

Just any regular teen. 

I'm not giving up on me.

I guess this is normal. 

I'm just growing, 

But what if we can grow too far?

What if we can forget who we are? 

When do we outgrow our personality? 

Am I leaving myself behind me? 

What if I could just flip back a page

And be that little girl again?

Who is she?

Where is she?

I want her

To still be me.

I guess it's good

That life goes on

And bad times pass, 

But what's the price?

The good times fade off, too,

And we're left

To miss ourselves.

I'm thinking all this through,

My mind is one big mess,

When the sun smiles down on me,

Relieving all the stress.

I'm six years old again,

Reaching for the sky. 

Limits, they don't matter. 

I feel like I can fly.

Nothing has changed.

We don't change. 

We can't. 

What if we just expand? 

I've learned to try new things,

And that is good.

I don't need dolls or ponies to be me,

And that is good.

The present is forming around the past,

Like the rings of a tree

Coming in fast. 

The first is still there,

Close to the core.

Maybe it's just hiding

To make room for more.

Maybe if I let it happen 

And don't go to extreme or extreme,

It'll happen gracefully

And that tree

Will still be me.

Maybe I should just live for life 

And like what I like. 

I don’t usually go with the flow,

But I won't try or try not to grow. 

Maybe someday I'll buy ripped jeans 

And try a croptop,

But if I do,

I hope I'll smile in the mirror

And remember to remember

Every heartbeat that brought me there. 

Remember who I was, 

Who will still be

Who I am.

Remember to cherish every moment.

I'll learn a little maturity,

But I won't lose me.

I've always been here. 

Is it wrong to like good music?

Am I still me if I don't watch kids shows? 

The outside doesn't define me.

I know

I will always be 

That child

At heart.

Not about that,

But what about who I was,

Who I will be? 

If I can change so fast, 

Who am I, really? 

What does any of it mean?

Six pages 

Of trying to understand myself, 

Of brain battles,

Of tangling myself around.

I'm a spider 

Caught in my own web. 

What have I found?

Nothing.

I'm more confused than ever. 

I've only learned that I,

Whoever I am,

Am my own worst enemy.

I still have six pages.

Six pages

That I'm trying to unscramble,

Six pages

That I will figure out.

Six pages

Can't get the best of me.

Whoever I am,

I'm determined.

Six pages

Don't stand a chance.

I want to hear your song all night.

School starts going extra slow.

I spend twenty minutes on a question I know.

The music is the only thing on my mind.

It's all confusing;

I still feel fueled,

But so ill-timed.

School lasts all day long

And my night is burned on the song.

I have nothing to do with the ideas, you see,

I’ve run out of time to be me.

This is like a drug. 

It's like a medicine,

But I'm addicted.

It helps me, 

Heals me,

But too much only gets me hurt. 

Now I'm sick and burned.

"What did I do?"

I need to balance on this narrow tightrope. 

You inspire me to take the best of life, 

Make the best in life, 

So I just need to stop,

Focus,

Hit reset,

And full speed ahead. 

You're my fuel

As long as I'm careful

So you don't become my engine fire.

As long as I don’t start a fire,

You can only bring me higher.

But I keep pulling myself down.

How do I get out of my way?

This is all nothing.

I'm making it up in my head

But it feels so real.

Why do I almost like it?

A hundred words I'm trying to say

Blare in my ears,

But I can feel the immense silence

Behind them.

Am I really saying anything?

I want to pour my heart out,

To write my every feeling,

But I don't know where to start 

Or where to go. 

Is this real?

I don't understand. 

I don't know.

But there's a pencil in my hand

And I'm holding on to it.

Holding on to my words, 

All of the colorful thoughts in my mind.

Holding on to each smile

That floats me through the day. 

Holding on.

I guess I'll start there.

Every night

I feel heavy as a weight.

‘Sleep tonight,

I'll do tomorrow right,’

I always tell myself.

So the cycle goes.

Filled with painful ninety percents

On schoolwork

And too many saves on Pinterest.

In between.

My words mean nothing.

I say what I'll do

To start or end the circular day,

But I never do it.

I say it to keep my wheels turning.

I don't want to stop moving. 

Even if I ride in the same old ruts 

Over and over again,

At least I'm moving.

The circle grows smaller

Little by little.

I'm growing dizzy. 

I spiral smaller and smaller

And soon I'll have nowhere to go.

Dizzy, so dizzy.

I need to get out. 

I need to break free.

These ruts, 

Why do they hold me?

I'm done

Running in circles.

There are infinite tomorrows,

More blank pages,

New roads to explore.

A whole future for me to write.

I need to start somewhere.

I'll go for today

Before today is yesterday.

It might be scary,

But I'm so dizzy there are stars in my eyes,

So I don't care. 

I'm going for it.

The rut is broken.

No more, 'This or that will be the time.’

This

Is

The time.

Now my head is clear.

Imagination is necessary to fill in the cracks and make an interesting story, but that means nothing if readers can't connect to the character. An author's personal experience is what makes the work credible, so that readers can connect.

Finally, there are the emotions involved on the author's part. Sometimes it might not matter so much what the experience does for the novel, but what putting the experience in the novel does for the author. Once in a while when I have a question or problem I'm worried about, I'll give it to a character and write a story to figure it out. This is extremely relieving. If other authors also do this, then Wharton probably just started writing because she was frustrated and had nothing else to do about the situation. That is called writing for yourself first and then others, and a lot of stories come out better that way.

To answer the original question, writing what you know is very effective (although it's important to spice it up with creativity, too.) The personal life of an author helps shape the author and that shapes the author's work. Wharton's experience helped her novel by making it more credible and more compelling.

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.

impossible wish, but every chance she got, Elizabeth imagined herself as a pioneer. The reason Elizabeth hadn't told anyone was that she was afraid people would act like she acted about the Bible and judge by the outside, even if it did work out well for the Bible. 

With much more of a flat sigh, Elizabeth reached behind the dress to get a denim jacket. She pulled this on over her t-shirt, which was black with a sparkly purple music note outlined with silver studs. Purple leggings completed the look. Rosa had said this outfit was awesome (she had picked it out) but Elizabeth would much rather have worn the 1800s dress.

Elizabeth bounced down the short hall to breakfast and hardly noticed the glances her Mom and Dad kept shooting at each other. They were half-nervous and half-excited glances. Elizabeth wolfed down her toast and ignored what could have been awkward silence. After a few minutes (or an eternity depending on who you ask) Mom said, "Lizzie, could you get your sister up, we have some important news for you two." Elizabeth jumped up to wake her older sister. 

"What's so important that I have to wake up early?" Elizabeth's sister grumbled as she stumbled out in her pajamas.

"Vikki, Lizzie, your mother and I have something to tell you. You may not take it well, but this is what will be best for you two,” Dad said. Elizabeth's stomach lurched. She had read a conversation that began similar to this one in a book once, and the outcome was not good. Elizabeth could hardly swallow the toast in her mouth. Palms sweating and mind reeling, Elizabeth expected the worst. What her parents actually said made her laugh a bit. "We're moving out to Warren,” was what Dad said. 

Elizabeth was busy being relieved, but Vikki had no such occupation. “Are you kidding!?! Warren?! I won't ever be able to see my friends! Why would you do this?! You're ruining my life!" she cried before jumping up and stomping back to her room. Everything was silent after the passionate outburst, then Dad chuckled. 

"Well that woke her up," he said. 

Mom swatted at him with a towel and said, “I'd better go talk to her."

As they continued with breakfast, Elizabeth asked Dad, "We're still going to see our friends sometimes, right?"

"Of course! Warrin is right near Kinzoo, that bridge we visited last summer. It isn't too far a drive for friends to visit, it just won't be as convenient as it is now. You'll also make new friends at your new school,” he explained. Elizabeth hadn't even thought about switching schools. She didn't know why, but this idea excited her; at the innermost part of her mind, she felt that she was doing something wrong at her current school. Elizabeth still had more questions. "When are we going to move?" she inquired. "We already know what house we're going to buy, but we scheduled the closing date really far out in mid-July. We probably won't put this house up for sale until that month so we can stay here right up until that closing date," Dad told her. 

The worst part was going to be telling Rosa. Elizabeth dreaded this and tried to avoid her friend at school, but at lunch Rosa couldn't be avoided any longer. “Lizzie, is there a problem? You've stayed away from me all day long. Are you mad at me?" Rosa asked right off when Elizabeth sat down at their normal table. 

"What? Of course I'm not mad at you! Why would I be? I do have something to tell you, though,” Elizabeth lowered her eyes to stare at her lunch tray at that last phrase. 

"Well spit it out already!" Rosa demanded. 

“I'm moving. To Warren. We're leaving in about five months," Elizabeth said, preparing herself for some form of emotional outburst from her friend. Rosa looked crushed at first but soon a smile spread across her face.

“Is it April fools day and nobody told me?” she asked. 

“Nope, it's still March. I'm really leaving,” Elizabeth said. 

"Oh,” Rosa's face fell again, but her smile returned a moment later. "At least we still have five months, and half of that is Summer vacation. Let's have the best five months of our lives, and once you move I'll visit every month, Warren isn't so far away," Rosa said brightly. They started to make plans and soon Rosa's short brown curls were bouncing as she jumped up and down in excitement.

They did have the best five months ever, hanging out together almost every day, going to the lake, camping, fairs, and carnivals, and licking ice cream cones. Then it was time to go. Elizabeth didn't mind leaving the tiny house so much, it was saying goodbye to her friends that made her sad, but not as sad as she had expected to feel. Saying goodbye to Rosa was the worst part, but they agreed to email at least every week and visit each other every month.

Moving was crazy, even if they still owned their old house and didn't have to do it all at once. For a few days some of their furniture and other things were in one house while the rest was in the other, so something as simple as brushing their teeth could become a long search through lots of boxes and eventually a trip to the local store to buy new toothbrushes. The thing is that Dad hadn't wanted to rent a moving truck so he could save money, but really that would have simplified some things, and the gas money amounted to the same price a moving truck would be.

It was August by the time they were settled in and Elizabeth had time to explore. Now she had her own bedroom (helpful for when she woke up before Vikki, which was always) with a bookshelf on one wall, her bed on another along with the door, and her closet and dresser on the third wall. The walls were a sunny yellow and would soon be full of photos of friends and sketches of birds and flowers. On the fourth wall was a beautiful bay window with a view of the backyard, the woods behind it, and the mountain rising up behind the woods. It was her dream room, and Elizabeth could not wait to explore what lay beyond the window.

Elizabeth slowly walked through the woods, paying attention to every beautiful detail. Seeing something shimmer in the mid-morning sunshine, Elizabeth ran towards it, holding up her pioneer dress. She had worn it because she thought nobody would be around to see. Elizabeth must have looked quite silly splashing in the water in her old-fashioned dress, but she was having fun. She was in fact having so much fun that she didn't notice the girl approaching.

"Hello there! You look like you’re having fun!" the girl said. 

"Oh! I was just looking for my bracelet. I dropped it,” Elizabeth immediately lied. She looked down, pretending to search, and saw the hem of her costume. Oh no! This was embarrassing. Then her eyes traveled out a bit and she saw a hem much like hers. The girls stared at each other for a moment. Elizabeth stared at the other girl's light blue, flower-speckled dress, white apron, and lacey collar. The dress was slightly loose on the girl's thin frame, also it was a bit wrinkled and had a few dirt stains. The girl had wavy blonde hair in a bun at her neck, which was messy in a pretty way. What was most interesting about this girl was her bright green eyes, which were big and curious.

Meanwhile, those curious eyes were studying Elizabeth. Her dark brown hair was in two loose braids, tied with ribbons, under her bonnet and her face, though startled and confused, was friendly. The soaked skirt of the dress looked very comical.

"Nice dress,” Elizabeth said at last in a quiet voice. 

“Yeah, you too," the other girl giggled.

"I'm not really looking for a bracelet,” Elizabeth admitted. 

“I didn't think it would make sense to chase it upstream,” the observant girl said. “I’m Emily, what's your name?" she asked.

“My name is Lizzie,” Elisabeth said. 

"Is that short for Elizabeth?" Emily asked. Elisabeth nodded. "Why would you shorten it? Elizabeth is such a pretty name,” Emily said. 

“Actually, I agree with you, it’s just that it sounds old fashioned and I don't want anyone to think I'm weird,” Elizabeth said, deciding she could probably tell Emily, who had already seen the costume and wore a similar one. 

"Why do you care if they think you're weird? You are but in a good way like me. Who cares who knows it,” Emily said. 

This turned a light on in Elizabeth's brain. "Ok, I think I can be myself at school, if you help. I'm going into fifth grade this year; do you think we'll be in the same class?" Elizabeth asked.

"No, I'm not going to school here,” Emily said sadly. 

"Oh, I thought since you live around here..." Elizabeth began. 

"Actually, I don't... anymore, I was just taking one last walk through the woods. I didn't realize you moved in already, " Emily said, trying not to cry.

"Oh, I get it. You used to live in the house my family just bought,” Elizabeth said.

"Sort of..." and then Emily broke into tears. 

Once she had stopped her tears, Emily motioned for Elizabeth to follow her deeper into the woods. Presently the girls came to a clearing which was surrounded by a thick circle of pine trees. In the center of the clearing was a quaint wooden cottage. It looked like something out of Little House on the Prairie, but not quite so welcoming. Through the window Elizabeth saw that it was empty. The whole place felt lonely. Emily gripped Elizabeth's hand tightly and tears slowly rolled down her thin cheeks again. “This was your home, wasn't it,” Elizabeth whispered. Emily nodded. “Why are yον leaving?"

Taking a breath, Emily began to explain. "My Dad lost his job last year. The company went bankrupt. At first we stayed at our house while he looked for a job, but then the bank took it because we couldn't pay. Not knowing what to do, Dad turned to a friend who used to live at your house. He said he didn't have the room to shelter us, but he had a lot of money and property, so he built us this cabin. It's small, but we made it home. Everything was great until the owner of that house died and his relatives decided to sell it. Since we were on his property, we had to move, too. I was just coming for one last look before we move to my aunt’s house.”

"Wait, so my family owns this cabin now?" Elizabeth asked. Emily nodded again. "Well then you can stay!"

"What?! Shouldn't you ask your parents?" 

"They lecture my sister and I all the time about showing kindness and helping the poor. Of course they'll say yes!" 

Emily blushed but she was too excited to be embarrassed for long. "We can be best friends!" she said. 

"We'll do everything together!" said Elizabeth. 

"Just promise me one thing."

“What?”

"We'll always be ourselves together, even in public." 

"Deal,” Elizabeth said with a smile.

Now all is more than just okay”

That is what I hope to say

For courage does combat the fear

When I know that God is here

He makes me strong as a knite

I am sinless in His sight!

God’s love for us is even more amazing when we consider how undeserving we are. That’s right, Titus 3:3-5 says, “They must not slander anyone and must avoid quarreling. Instead, they should be gentle and show true humility to everyone. Once we, too, were foolish and disobedient. We were misled and became slaves to many lusts and pleasures. Our lives were full of evil and envy, and we hated each other. But— When God our Savior revealed his kindness and love, he saved us, not because of the righteous things we had done, but because of his mercy. He washed away our sins, giving us a new birth and new life through the Holy Spirit.”

What did God do that saved us and washed away our sins? “For this is how God loved the world: He gave his one and only Son, so that everyone who believes in him will not perish but have eternal life.” -- John 3:16. That Son is Jesus Christ, who died on a cross to forgive our sins and rose again to defeat death. (You can read more about this in Matthew 26-28, Mark 14-16, Luke 22-24, or John 17-21.)

Can anything else be said? Love, love, love. God’s love. It will always be there to save us. Store that in your mind and remember it the next time you feel down and disappointed. Now all that’s left to do is give thanks to the LORD through prayer.

Him[God]. He does as He pleases among the angels of heaven and the people of the earth. No one can stop Him or say to Him, 'What do You mean by doing these things?'"  This is basically saying that God is more powerful than anyone or anything else, He does whatever He wants (and since He is perfect and all-knowing, this is a very good thing), and nobody can stop or question Him. Isaiah 46:10 says something similar: "Only I[God] can tell you the future before it even happens. Everything I plan will come to pass, for I do whatever I wish." 

     Now we know that God can make good out of bad, but we need to know if He does. While God does sometimes bring just judgement on people, Romans 8:28 says, "And we know that God causes everything to work out for those who love God and are called according to His purpose for them." This means that Christians don't have to worry! If we truly love God and want whatever He wants for us, everything will eventually come together to help us in some way, be it obvious or unexpected. 

      Though it may not seem like it, God always has a purpose that will ultimately benefit believers. I am not saying that if we believe in God we'll get all the possessions we want and our lives will immediately be perfect, not at all! All I'm saying is that God is on our side and He knows what's best for us in the long run and how to make it happen, even if it makes no sense to us at the time. 

world. Now everyone in the world is a sinner.

     The penalty for sin is death but the good news is that God sent His Son, Jesus Christ (who was fully God and fully man, and therefore sinless) to die on a cross as the sacrifice for all of our sins. Now that Jesus died to forgive us of our sin, we can go to heaven if we trust in Him. We also need to ask God to forgive us of our sins and He will. 

     Heaven is a perfect place with no sin where God and everyone who has left this world trusting in Him lives. It is a paradise where God is praised all day long with joy. No matter how hard things get here, those of us who believe in God and all He has done can have the hope of heaven to chase our fear away. We know this world's problems aren't permanent and one day we will be in perfect paradise praising Him. 

     This is why I drew the earth flying apart with the cross in the middle, standing in one piece. If you look, you will see that there are lines coming from the cross to keep the world from completely falling apart. Jesus died on the cross so one day we can go to heaven, this hope can be what keeps our world from completely flying apart.

Dressing up my dolls,

Dancing along to Disney theme songs,

And making my friends laugh. 

I'm a bit dramatic.

(Maybe more than a bit)

I can be serious when I want to,

I like some "boring" things, 

And I'm really good at school,

But it all just adds to the vibrant mesh of me,

Who I've always been

And who I'll always be. 

There's just one thing.

I'm 14 years old,

Something I never thought would happen. 

I used to say I'd never be a teenager.

Well, here I am. 

I'd say I'd never change,

But now I'm not so sure.

"I'll always like My Little Pony." 

"No you won't."

"I'll never like a boy band."

"Yes you will." 

They were right. 

I don't know what happened to my pony figures

But they're gone 

And I don't care like I want to. 

I can't believe it

But I'm a fan of BTS. 

I can't help but love their personality,

Their message,

Their music.

Is it wrong to love good music? 

Am I still me if I don't watch kid shows anymore? 

It all sounds so stupid,

But if that can change so fast,

What else will I gain and lose?

I'm a teenager.

How long before I dress like one? 

How long before my dolls go untouched? 

When will I start to hide myself in makeup? 

When will violent video games rot my mind? 

I don't want to grow up.

They make it sound all great on TV,

But it's a trap.

"Life goes on.”

Yes, it's great to learn and grow, 

To let the bad times pass, 

But what's the price? 

Am I losing myself? 

Am I leaving me behind?

When do we outgrow our personality?

How do I stop myself from doing it?

What if we grow too far? 

What if we forget who we are?

I've never been able to go with the flow, 

But I don't think I'll try or try not to grow. 

I think I'll just let the real me show, 

Whoever I am, wherever I go.

Maybe I'll just live for life

And like whatever I like.

Does growth have to mean change? 

I could just be expanding.

The present is forming around the past;

It's like the rings of a tree

Coming in fast.

The first is still in there,

Close to the core.

Maybe it's just hiding

To make room for more.

Maybe if I let it happen

And don't go to extreme or extreme,

It'll happen gracefully.

And that tree 

Will still be me.

I don't understand it all,

But here's what I know:

Right now I have a fuzzy sweater on, 

Right now the world outside is beautiful,

Right now I like my dolls,

Right now I'm jamming to a boy band, 

Right now there's a smile on my face,

Right now everything is ok,

And right now is a day I want to save.

No matter what the future brings, 

No matter how I grow,

This is now 

And I'll always have the memories. 

If I ever decide

To wear ripped jeans and crop tops, 

I hope I'll smile in the mirror 

And remember.

I'm still the same little girl

On the inside.

I cannot catch a hair! 

Not even a dress hem!

If you find my words, 

Please let me know. 

They fly away like birds,

But I don't want to let them go!

Of my innocent MG books. 

And just a bit too scared

For the daunting YA ones.

Too big for my old, simple bike,

 Too short for my 10-speed.

Young enough still to love my dolls,

Old enough to be embarrassed about it. 

I can enter the contests for teens, 

But their writing all stands over mine. 

I'm eye level with their elbows, 

And their shoulders lock together,

Blocking out the sky for me. 

The days of those clean stanzas 

With ever-perfect rhyme, 

They are all gone.

My words are scrambled, 

But falling back together 

In a lovely loose verse. 

I will be a butterfly 

And spread my colorful wings

With an intensified joy, 

With more freedom than ever

To be me.

Am I a poet?

I don't match any poems I've read.

Am I a poet?

I love to write what's on my mind.

Am I a post?

Inspiration is easy to find.

Am I a poet?

With beautiful words I captivate.

Am I a poet?

I was made by a God who can create.

Am I a poet?

He gave me love for poetry.

Am I a poet? 

I write for Him with glee. 

I am a poet.

So an anxious mind is hard to control.

But it can be stopped!

Though it may seem to be impossible,

God can do anything,

He is in control,

And He loves to help His children.

All we must do is think of

And be thankful for

God and His many blessings.

It takes time and effort, but

God will help defeat that monster in your mind.

What happened to me? 

What about dolls and poofy skirts?

How long before they go too? 

What about crop tops and violent movies? 

How long before I'm into that? 

Has it already started?

"Life goes on,” 

But what if I don't want it to?

What if I could just flip back a page

And be a little girl again? 

Who is she? 

Where is she? 

Just when I start to understand

Life gets crazy once again.

What if life didn't go on?

What if I could just hit pause?

Bad times pass,

Sure, that's great, 

But what about the good times?

I want to stay forever

In my little world of ponies,

But I can't.

Life goes on.

Bad times pass.

Good times stick around.

I'll always have the memories.

They go on and on with life

As I make more every day.

It was never about the ponies,

And liking good music was never a sin.

It's about being me.

I'm not defined by dolls or skirts.

If I ever like shorter shirts or video games, 

I'll still be me.

Nothing important can really change.

Life goes on. 

I grow.

But I still have the same smile. 

I always will. 

The only thing that's changed? 

I've learned to try new things.

Whirperdee, whirperdee, whirper wee-wee-wee, werrwe!

Cheeper, cheeper, cheeper!

Wher-whepher, wepher!

adventure we are on.

We are headed for Proxima Centauri b, a cold planet that orbits the red dwarf star Proxima Centauri, which is part of the binary star system called Alpha Centauri. We are traveling 36,319 mi./hr. (which is 21.3% the speed of light) to this system which is closest to ours at just 25 trillion miles away. The trip should take 20 years if all goes well.”

Ridley stops reading in frustration.

Cindy walks into Ridley’s small bedroom after getting no response to her knock on the door.

“What’s wrong, sis?” she asks after seeing the confusing mix of emotions on Ridley’s face.

They aren’t really related, but neither has any real siblings. Ridley is sure she couldn’t ask for a cooler, smarter big sister than Cindy. Cindy needs someone to talk to (none of the 50 passengers on the Stardust are her age) and Ridley understands her more than anybody else. You could say these girls have their own type of symbiosis.

When Ridley just gives a shrug, Cindy comes over and sits down next to her on the bed.

“Did you know there are more stars in space than grains of sand on the Earth?” Cindy asks, gazing out the window at the stars that look like only white streaks because of the crazy speed. “We get to see so many more of them than most people, and think how much more there is to explore on the new planet! Don’t you see how lucky we are?” she exclaims, trying to get emotion out of her almost sister.

“But it’s all so new! I’m not ready? All that book will tell me is facts I already know about that stupid planet!” Ridley cries angrily.

“Hey, this is going to be new for me, too. I was born two years after the Stardust took off. We’re ready, and I have an idea to prove it,” Cindy says.

“Really? What is it?” Ridley asks, perking up. Cindy’s ideas are always fun.

“Before I tell you, I need your help with a hydraulic arm I’m planning on building,” Cindy says.

“Fine, but I’m bad at science,” Ridley warns.

“We’ll see about that.”

“There is no way I can be of any help building that!” Ridley panics when she sees the complicated looking instructions.

“Don’t worry, this is only a practice model. We need to be sure we can rely on hydraulics for heavy lifting since the fortress we have to let us survive for more than 15 seconds out there may cause our electricity to act up. Don’t worry about the instructions; they look confusing, new, and scary at first but once you dive in and take it step by step it’s really fun,” Cindy says.

“OK,” Ridley says, taking a deep breath. “Let’s do it.”

“First we need a square base about eight by eight inches. We can use cardboard for that,” Cindy directs. Ridley neatly cuts the piece out of a large, thick rectangle.

“Now we need something that rotates to attach the arm to,” Cindy says. A four by four square of cardboard and a brad easily solve that problem. Next they cut out four rectangles that are six by two inches. They hot glue two of them across from each other an inch from the edges of the smaller of the two squares.

“Now what?” Ridley asks, excited.

“Well, these are some other pieces of the arm. We need to attach them in a way that lets it bend,” Cindy says. She holds up the two pieces identical to those already attached.

“We can use more brads for the joint!” Ridley suggests. The instructions aren’t needed now. After that part is attached, they need two eight by two inch rectangles to complete the arm. They attach them the same way, but an inch towards the middle. Now the arm part is complete. Time for the claw.

Taking a cardboard triangle, Cindy explains the claw to Ridley. “Now cut two small rectangles and set them aside. Little bigger, perfect! OK, now you have to cut out an obtuse angle that is one inch wide.” Cindy performs this part as she explains it so now they have two of the angle. Next they face the angles toward each other and glue a rectangle to the bottom of each one. These pieces then have a brad put through both of them and are attached with it to the original triangle, still facing each other. Taking two relatively long pieces of metal wire, Cindy pokes one through the edge of each rectangle and twists it so that it will stay. Ridley does the grips by herself under Cindy’s approving gaze. First she wraps a one by two inch cardboard rectangle over each end and, after securing them with brads, adds strips of hot glue so it will hang onto things better. When they glue the completed hand on, they add counterweights to the back of the base to keep it stable. Now it’s time for the real hydraulics.

After filling four syringes with differently colored water, they attach a tube to each syringe and attach another syringe to the opposite end. Once this is done, all they have to do is position the empty syringes so once the ends push out, each one pushes on a different movable part and attach them with glue or zip ties.

Finally it’s time for the test run. Holding her breath, Ridley pushes the red syringe to squeeze the water out, into the tube, and into the other syringe. The end pops out of the filling syringe, pushes on the base it’s attached to, and causes the whole thing to spin. “It worked! It worked!” Ridley cries.

“Not bad for your first try engineering!” Cindy says, high-fiving her almost sister.

“That was actually fun!” Ridley exclaims.

“Interesting,” Cindy says with a half smile.

“What?”

“Have you ever done this before?”

“You know I haven’t.”

“Interesting.”

“OK?”

“So would you call this an old experience?”

Ridley laughs, she knows exactly what’s going on now. “No,” she says, “It would be called a new experience.”

“New and fun, now that is interesting.”

“You were right, I guess new can be fun!” Ridley realizes. “I can hardly wait to try out this new planet!” she cries. Cindy smiles, mission accomplished.

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!”

Not wrapping it, either.

It is about Christ, whose praise I lift! 

Though the tree with its lights 

Will be taken down

Once Christmas is over,

The best gift remains year-round. 

That gift is Jesus, 

The Son of God.

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.

Megan suddenly sat up and looked around. She was sitting on the ground next to a stack of hay bales that was taller than she is. As Megan took in her surroundings she thought it looked like something out of her favorite book, Little House on the Prairie. Suddenly Megan saw a girl with brown braids come flying out of a nearby log cabin. A taller girl with blonde curls followed at a much more ladylike pace. Her blue dress was the exact same shade as the midsummer sky, which was not tainted by city smoke and smog. Before Megan could gather her wits the blond girl spotted her. "Laura look! There is a girl by our hay pile, she looks sad and confused. Let's see what's wrong!” 

Laura rolled her eyes. "But Pa said I could help him chop wood if I finished my chores on time. She is probably just taking a walk from one of the other homesteads," she said. 

“You get the water then, I want to meet this girl," the blonde girl said. So Laura walked off and the blonde girl walked over to Megan. “Hello, my name is Mary, are you alright?” she asked. 

“Everything is wrong!" Megan cried, “Of course I'm not alright!"

Mary was startled but didn't show it. "Tell me what happened," she said kindly. 

"Do you promise not to tell anybody?" Megan asked.

"Cross my heart." Mary said. Something made Megan pour out her entire story to Mary. Mary was a good listener and she helped Megan to get her thoughts straight. 

“Wait a minute, you're Mary and your sister is Laura... Do you by chance have a sister named Carrie?" Megan asked in an excited voice. 

“Ye-e-esss,” Mary said slowly, wondering how Megan knew this. 

“Is your last name Ingalls?" Megan asked, her voice getting high with excitement.

"Ye-e-e-essss," Mary said nervously. 

“Oh my gosh you are my favorite character in my favorite book series and your sister Laura is my favorite author!" Megan exclaimed. 

"What are you talking, about!?" Mary asked, thinking Megan was insane. So Megan told Mary about the famous Series. "How do I know you're not making this up?" Mary asked.

“Um." Megan had read the books 100 times each, there had to be some proof that they were real. “Your Ma's name is Caroline Quinner and before she married your Pa she was a school teacher. That is what you want to be too when you grow up," Megan said.

Mary just stared at her and then slowly nodded. "Ok, I believe you," she said.

"Good because I need to tell you that γου are going to…” 

Mary interrupted Megan before she could finish. "Please don't tell me!" Mary pleaded, "I want to accept troubles and learn from them as they come the way God designed it instead of trying to prevent what he makes happen." 

"So you're saying we should just let bad things happen when we could stop them?” Megan asked. 

"Sometimes," Mary said, “If God wants something to happen He will make it happen even if we try to stop it, and even if it seems bad at the time I know that whatever happens to me, it will work out for good because I love Him.” Megan was shocked at how much trust Mary had in God. She seemed very happy and content. 

“Does that mean being parentless and having my best friend dump me can be a good thing?” Megan finally asked. 

Mary nodded. “That Ellen girl does not seem like a very good friend, since you're already here and don't seem to have a way to get home, could I be your new best friend?" she asked. 

In response Megan gave Mary a big hug. "But where do I stay, your cabin is already crowded, maybe I could stay in the barn?" Megan asked. 

"I have a better idea," said Laura who had been eavesdropping for a good 10 minutes. 

"Laura Ingalls!" Mary scolded.

"Sorry but listen, I saw an Indian man and woman walk  by our cabin early this morning. In their eyes was the type of sadness that doesn't fade even after the many years have passed. The woman held an empty baby carrier. I think their child died, maybe you could comfort them by staying with them and letting them care for you,” Laura said. 

"Maybe that is why God caused you to come here,” Mary said. 

"Alright,” Megan said, "Let's go but Laura, promise not to put any of this in your books.” Laura promised and they set out for the Indian camp.

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!