Soft moments of tender care,

Eyes full of fire,

Smiles of pure joy.

I am in love with the world

And with art and with life.

I am in love with blue skies and sunsets,

With wind and warm hugs.

I am in love with love.

I love with such intensity

It all becomes a part of me,

Sewn into my patchwork heart,

Invading every fiber of my being

And driving out the dark.

“But he was pierced for our transgressions,

    he was crushed for our iniquities;

the punishment that brought us peace was on him,

    and by his wounds we are healed.”

Isaiah 53:5

As it turns out, the names aren’t the confusing part. What sometimes is a contradiction is how people treat Black Friday. Let’s back up for a moment to what precedes the big sales: Thanksgiving. This is an entire holiday dedicated to giving thanks and appreciating everything that we have. It’s a holiday of family, feasting, and general goodwill. How on earth do we go from this to elbowing others out of the way to get to the last discounted appliance? One day we’re celebrating everything we have, and the next we’re fighting others at Walmart to get more, more, more. In 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18, we read, “Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” The thankfulness shouldn’t end on Friday, and it doesn’t have to. Even if you decide to go shopping, and even if there’s something you really want to find, it doesn’t have to be all-consuming. 

There’s absolutely nothing wrong with buying something for yourself on Black Friday, or any other day, for that matter, but it’s important to remember what you have. Even if you don’t have as many physical possessions as you’d ideally want, or you weren’t able to have a nice dinner this year, or even if you don’t have anyone to celebrate with, you can still be thankful. Black Friday might tell you that you always need more, but Good Friday says that you already have all that you need. All you need to do is believe, and Jesus saves your life. This is all the motivation we need to be thankful every day; everything else is just an added blessing.

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.

My Mom, she shares her life with me;

Her joy and frustration,

Everything.

I help them when they’re down,

When they need to get the feelings out.

A distraction or an escape,

I can be there

Right away.

Maybe I don't do the most,

But I listen and I care,

And I am strong

By being there.

I’ve been ignored before.

I’m not like the computer.

I guess Google Docs

Holds onto thoughts better,

But the computer isn’t there

In your pocket

For sweet thoughts out and about.

The best poems come from pens

And that’s without a doubt.

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.

Another important part of friendship is honesty. Have you ever seen those videos on TikTok comparing friends to best friends? The friend will ask if something looks good on them, and the person will say it does, but when the best friend askes, they get a “No, go change.” These videos are exaggerated, and they’re supposed to highlight the fact that best friends are comfortable enough with each other to joke around, but they also show that people are more honest with their closest friends. No, you don’t always have to tell your friend they look stupid (even if they do), but you should be open with each other and honest about what you think and feel. 1 John 3:18 says, “Dear children, let us not love with words or speech but with actions and in truth.”

Jesus gave us the greatest example of what it means to be a friend: “Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends” (John 15:13). We should always follow His example when attempting to be a good friend. 1 John 3:16 puts it clearly: “This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers and sisters.” The truth is, we’re never going to be able to do this perfectly. No matter how hard we try, there’s always going to be some area where we fail, some issue we’re too small to fix, some step we’re afraid to take. The trick to being a good friend isn’t doing it all perfectly, but following Christ’s example as closely as we’re able to and turning to God to heal what we can’t. Christ died on a cross to forgive the sins of those who believe in Him. By doing this, He saved us. Ultimately, God is the best friend any of us can ever have. All we can do is follow His example.

Friendship can be difficult. Being a good friend means being encouraging, honest, and following Christ’s example. Ultimately, being a good friend means trusting in God when we fail, and leading our friends to do the same. Proverbs 18:24 reads, “One who has unreliable friends soon comes to ruin, but there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother.”

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

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

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

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

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

Dad is like my rock,

Someone I can depend on.

They say we’re too alike,

And that’s why we’d always fight,

But in the end we’d come back,

Because he understands

Like nobody else can.

They are the ones who taught me

Things like numbers and theology.

Because of them I write and paint

And believe in a world to be made.

Mom and I could walk together

All night and all day,

Talking all of our troubles away.

Dad and I could sit for hours

Trading tricks on our computers,

And sharing our strange humor.

There aren’t enough words to describe

The impact they have on my life,

But this one thing is sure:

If ever they were lost,

I’d miss them for forever

In the twenty-first century, it isn’t uncommon for someone to have friends that they’ve never personally met. Thanks to social media and online gaming, individuals who have never met can communicate with each other and form friendships. There are many benefits to this. Online friendships are often easier to start than in-person ones, as many people tend to be more outgoing online than they are in person. They’re more likely to reach out, and once they do, a bond can often grow faster than it would in person, as it’s easier to discuss serious topics and personal issues over text. An article posted on Psychology Today states that, "Another benefit of online friends is the freedom we feel to share information with those that we are unlikely to ever meet in person as we don’t fear later shame or that feeling of ‘retroactive embarrassment’ . . . We are unlikely to be seeing this person on a frequent basis, so we won’t be reminded of our vulnerability and personal revelations. Our ‘confessions’ are limited to a containable space and shared with people we actually never have to engage with again, if we choose not to," (Degges-White). While this is a true benefit, the flip side is that you don’t need to be committed to an online friendship. It’s easy to lose friends made online, as they can easily block you or switch accounts, or disappear for months with no explanation. A connection may be built through self-disclosure online, but that doesn’t mean that the other party feels that connection as keenly, or that the connection will last. Of course, this can also be the case with real life friendships, but it’s a lot harder to leave a friendship that’s been built up over a long period of time, and it’s difficult to avoid someone who you could easily run into at the grocery store.

Even if an online friendship is felt genuinely on both sides, that doesn’t necessarily mean it would work out in real life. Quoting the same article as above, "The three most common ‘motivating factors’ for friendship development include shared interests, shared activities, or proximity," (Degges-White). When building friendships online, the focus is mainly on this first factor: shared interests. However, a person’s life isn’t usually encompassed in just one interest, and they might even grow out of this thing they enjoy which originally sparked conversation. Some online friendships can withstand this change as they grow and develop, however, there are times when the entire connection relies solely on this one interest. In addition, people have complete control of what they share online, and so they can very easily hide some aspect of their personality, an aspect that could potentially end negotiations for a real life friendship. Basically, when you meet someone over the internet, you might not be meeting the full person. Again, this can happen offline as well, but it’s much easier behind a screen.

An article on The Guardian points out: "The expectations that online friends have of one another are also different. I am more understanding of the fact that a virtual friend has a whole life outside our friendship. My online friends can pick up their phone, be there for me and then put their phone (and me) back down afterwards," (Floyer). If these boundaries are understood, digital friendship is a beautiful thing. It’s a way to easily communicate with others about shared interests or everyday struggles, and maybe learn new things about different people or cultures. That said, online friends can be disappointing when too much is expected of them. The same article comes to the conclusion that individuals should have a healthy balance of online and offline friendships.

Following a celebrity online is similar to an online friend in that it's someone far away that you feel a connection to over the internet. The difference, however, is that this connection is one-sided, as most celebrities have no idea you even exist. This can result in a parasocial relationship if someone gets too obsessed with a favorite celebrity, however, appreciating someone's talent or beauty and even feeling as if they're one of your friends isn't unhealthy in itself. Celebrities can have a wonderful impact on their fans, teaching them important lessons and acting as a positive influence, or a comfort during difficult times. It doesn't need to be a two-way friendship, as long as it isn't substituted for that type of interaction. 

Following a celebrity isn't always a good thing, though. Celebrity Worship Syndrome is a condition where someone is so obsessed with a famous person that it affects their daily life in a negative way. This is when the obsession begins to prevent real-life experiences. The condition often brings narcissism with it as well. Celebrity Worship Syndrome is thought to be caused, or at least helped along by, preexisting mental health issues. Instead of turning to celebrities for happiness, people with mental issues should turn to those around them for real help (Maltby, John, et. al.).

Even when it doesn't become a disorder, following celebrities can often cause other problems for young people. Celebrities can be a positive influence, but they can also promote dangerous or unhealthy activities such as smoking, drugs, and extreme diets. Furthermore, while some celebrities are very open about body image and mental health issues, others can be very damaging to the confidence of young people. Studies show that about 80% of teenage girls compare the way they look to celebrities. Of this number, about half of these girls feel bad about how they look in comparison (Mannino). Celebrities present an overly-perfect and highly stylized version of themselves that everyone wants to look like, but few actually do. While following celebrities can be wholesome and fun, it can also do psychological damage to young people if it goes too far or is focused on the wrong things.

Sometimes if it’s a musician someone is obsessed with, the focus isn’t on the celebrity as much as it’s on their music. Like people who are far away, music can connect us to other people’s reality. It can also create an entirely new fantasy world. Many people use music as an escape, as it has been shown to increase positive feelings. It’s scientifically proven to preserve pathways in the brain that make people happy. In fact, music activates your entire brain, preserving numerous important pathways that would otherwise be weakened by lack of use. That said, listening to the wrong music can be damaging, as certain music has been found to increase angry feelings and violent behavior. Music can be counterhelpful if it distracts from important activities that require a high level of concentration, but it can also aid in productivity. Whether music is helpful or harmful to an activity depends on the activity and the listener. Overall, music is beneficial in its place, and actually aids the mind in many ways. Still, the wrong music at the wrong time can do more harm than good to an individual.

Video games actually help the brain in many ways, similar to music. Despite this fact, certain circles still regard video games in a negative light. This is because of the problems that occur when a video game becomes an obsession. Besides taking away from real life, a gaming addiction can cause problems with sleep and mental health, and could cause one to gain unhealthy weight. Like with music, the wrong games can also promote violent behavior. Despite these issues, there are many benefits to gaming. It’s actually wonderful exercise for the brain, and helps with problem-solving skills and planning. In addition, gaming can increase an individual’s hand-eye coordination as well as their reflexes. Online games can also provide the chance to connect with an entire community of gamers, besides simply being a fun way to relieve stress. An article on the subject by Andrew E. Budson concludes, "In short, playing video games can be fun and a social activity when integrated into a healthy lifestyle that includes plenty of sleep, exercise, and good nutrition, rather than letting the game become your life," (“Why is Music”).

Unlike games, books are commonly accepted as beneficial. There is some bias against certain novels, but most reading is considered good. Reading fiction is certainly a worthwhile activity, and the action of taking in words is beneficial to the mind. Still, even reading has its downsides. Some books may contain scenes or ideas that are harmful or inappropriate; it’s never a good idea to insert this into your mind. The main problem, however, comes when reading interferes with the responsibilities and enjoyment of life. One article puts it this way: "Living in a world of dreams populated by fictional characters, readers miss out on the enjoyment to be found in real life and real people," (Dali).

The push and pull of fantasy and reality is capitalized in a certain psychodramatic technique, the magic shop. To start off, psychodrama is defined as, "A method of group psychotherapy in which participants take roles in improvisational dramatizations of emotionally charged situations," (“Psychodrama”). The magic shop in particular is an imaginary storefront where the therapist plays the shopkeeper and customers can purchase certain traits or behaviors instead of actual objects. The shopkeeper guides the transaction, and through the process customers learn what they really need to change in themselves; what qualities they have too much of, and what ones they need more of. The idea is to leave the exercise with a better understanding of who you are, and to apply the imaginary trades and purchases to real life.

Leni M. F. Verhofstadt-Denève divides the magic shop into several steps. First is the warm up, where the therapist playing the shopkeeper describes the shop. After reflecting on the imaginary shop's appearance, the shop opens. Customers enter the shop in search of a certain quality, and they do a skit, or mini-drama, which demonstrates why they need the quality. After the skit, customers return to the shop and “try on” the quality, which leads to another mini-drama with the quality. After that they return to the shop and negotiate what could be given for this trait, or which trait may be a better fit than this one. Once a decision is reached, the imaginary transaction is made and the customers return to the main group to reflect. Once the shop closes, the group as a whole discusses together and shares what they learned or received from the magic shop (“The ‘Magic Shop’ Technique”). This exact format might not be followed by everyone who uses this exercise. Some magic shops may be more relaxed than others, but the general procedure remains the same.

Fantasy is the foundation and driving force of the magic shop. Earl Koile puts it this way: “Fantasy is a prime source of creative and innovative thinking and behavior. Fantasy can break us out of the prisons of conformity, fixed and rigid ways of thinking and being, and can lift us to new ideas and more imaginative alternatives in dealing with “real” problems and in arriving at solutions and resolutions. Fantasy not only allows but also nourishes thoughts and feelings that may be against the rules or represent forbidden territory,” (“The Magic Shop: The Therapist”). Fantasy gives free realm to explore the uncharted, to see our issues in a different light. When we feel stuck on a problem, it often helps to view the issue differently, and this is exactly what fantasy allows us to do.

Even with a very basic understanding of the magic shop technique, it’s obvious that self reflection must take some role. As it turns out, there are six dimensions of self that come into play in several areas of psychology, including the magic shop. The six dimensions are self-image, ideal-self, alter-image, meta-self, ideal-meta-self, and ideal-alter. These represent how you see yourself, who you’d like to be, how you see others, how others see you, how you’d like others to see you, and who you’d like others to be, respectively. An article cited above states four actions of the magic shop that help people to understand the different dimensions: “(1) The activation of self-reflection on the six Self-Dimensions; (2) a growing awareness and integration of interdimensional and intradimensional oppositions, and discovery of alternative interpretations of oneself and one's environment; (3) the recognition and acceptance of existential conditions; (4) a strengthening of self-confidence through self-appreciation and positive evaluation by significant others," (Verhofstadt-Denève). Basically, the magic shop allows participants to see themselves more accurately by targeting specific psychological dimensions. The magic shop encourages self-reflection over who we are in relation to everybody else. It also draws attention to different interpretations of the same people as well as conditions that exist beyond argument. Finally, the exercise strengthens self-confidence through a positive and appreciative environment.

There are several ways in which the magic shop represents a balanced scale. It is a serious exercise, however, humor is often an integral aspect, as the exercise is performed in a lighthearted group setting. "Although the actual implementation of the magic shop may differ considerably among authors, they all proceed on a common basis, notably a remarkable combination of playfulness and seriousness, humor and pain, of dream and reality, which constitutes the distinctive healing power of this psychodramatic technique," (Verhofstadt-Denève). Balance can also be seen throughout the steps of the exercise, particularly in the mini-dramas, which are exaggerated. “The reality of the situation is not as dire as it was in the first drama and not as delightfully harmonious as in the restructured one. Real life is somewhere in between and can be considered as the integration of the two extreme mini-dramas," (Verhofstadt-Denève). A third form of contrast and balance in the magic shop is between differing qualities. “To the extent that someone is a particular kind of personality, he or she is not some other, different personality. To the extent that we have some outstanding, positive personal traits, we will also lack other particular personal traits,” (Barbour). To become one thing, we often need to give up something else, since nobody can be everything at once. The purpose of the magic shop is to evaluate the importance of all of these qualities and decide which are most important for any given individual. In any case, the magic shop is full of games between opposing forces.

While the Magic Shop is just pretend and nothing is actually bought or sold, the problems being talked about are very real, and the qualities given to fix them are indeed needed. The only step left is to learn to use the "purchased" traits. Although this exercise isn't guaranteed to make a difference beyond the time when it's performed, if the lessons learned don't transfer into real life, it isn't a Magic Shop at all, but just a decorated game of pretend. In other words, the Magic Shop is really the bridge between fantasy and reality at its core. The solutions wouldn't be reached without pretending, but they wouldn't be of any use if not taken back to the real world.

To sum it all up, there are many fun activities that transport us out of the world right in front of us and into a different reality. Things like digital friends, celebrities, music, video games, and books can be beneficial to many areas of the mind and of life, but they can be harmful if they become an obsession. How can this be avoided? The answer is shown in the magic shop: fantasy is helpful when used as a means of learning, and when we take the lessons with us back into the real world.

Works Cited:

“Are Online and Real Life Friendships the Same? How the Internet makes a Difference.” Regain, BetterHelp. 17 May 2023. Web. 17 May 2023.

Avramova, Nina. “How Music Can Change the Way You Feel and Act.” CNN Health, Cable News Network. 20 Feb. 2019. Web. 21 May 2023.

Barbour, Alton. “Purpose and Strategy Behind the Magic Shop.” JGGPS–Fall 1992, JGGPS. 1992. Pdf. 16 May 2023.

Barone, Ryan. “Yes, Video Games are Good…For Your Mind and Body.” iD Tech, iD Tech. 8 Jan. 2023. Web. 22 May 2023.

Budson, Andrew E. “Why is Music Good for the Brain?” Harvard Health Publishing, Harvard Medical School. 7 Oct. 2020. Web. 21 May 2023.

Charrani, Bader, et. al. “Association of Video Gaming with Cognitive Performance Among Children.” National Library of Medicine, National Center of Biotechnology Information. Oct. 2022. Web. 22 May 2023.

“Connection Between Celebrity Worship Syndrome and Teen Mental Health.” Newport Academy, Newport Academy. 6 Apr. 2021. Web. 19 May 2023.

Dali, Keren. “On the Dangers of Reading.” NoveList, EBSO. 1 Aug. 2014. Web. 23 May 2023.

Degges-White, Suzanne. “Do Online Friendships Differ From Face-to-Face Friendships?” PsychologyToday, Sussex Publishers. 29 May 2020. Web. 17 May 2023.

Floyer, Yasmina. “‘I was Lacking Deeper Connections’: Can Online Friends be the Answer to Loneliness?” The Guardian, Guardian News and Media Limited. 17 Sep. 2022. Web. 17 May 2023.

“How Celebrities Influence Teens and Why it Matters.” Newport Academy, Newport Academy. 28 Aug. 2022. Web. 19 May 2023.

“How Video Games Can be Beneficial for the Brain.” MAX-PLANCK-GESELLSCHAFT, MAX-PLANCK-GESELLSCHAFT. 30 Oct. 2013. Web. 22 May 2023.

Koile, Earl. “The Magic Shop: The Therapist Masquerades as a Shopkeeper.” Voices: Spring 2011, Voices. 2011. Pdf. 16 May 2023.

Maltby, John, et. al. “A Clinical Interpretation of Attitudes and Behaviors Associated With Celebrity Worship.” The Journal of Nervous and Mental Disease, PubMed. Feb. 2003. Pdf. 19 May 2023.

Mannino, Brynn. “TODAY/AOL ‘Ideal to Real’ Body Image Survey Results.” Today, Aol. Feb. 2014. Web. 19 May 2023.

“Psychodrama.” Dictionary.com, Dictionary.com. Web. 16 May 2023.

Verhofstadt-Denève, Leni M. F. “The ‘Magic Shop’ Technique in Psychodrama: An Existential-Dialectical View.” The International Journal of Action Methods: Psychodrama, Skill Training, and Role Playing, Volume 53, No. 1, Heldref Publications. 2000. Pdf. 16 May 2023.

James 1:17 puts into plain terms why we should glorify God whenever we see something impressive here on earth: "Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows." Everything comes from the Lord. Even if it's built by human hands, the glory should go to the One who formed the hands. This is like the difference between praising a machine for a product it makes and praising the inventor who made the machine and keeps it running. Earlier in this chapter, in verse 11, God gives a warning to those who build up earthly riches and don't remember to praise Him for it: "For the sun rises with scorching heat and withers the plant; its blossom falls and its beauty is destroyed. In the same way, the rich will fade away even while they go about their business."

Romans 1:18 is another passage that speaks about the destruction of the sinful: "The wrath of God is being revealed from heaven against all the godlessness and wickedness of people, who suppress the truth by their wickedness." Verses 21-25 of that chapter go into greater detail about these people: "For although they knew God, they neither glorified him as God nor gave thanks to him, but their thinking became futile and their foolish hearts were darkened. Although they claimed to be wise, they became fools and exchanged the glory of the immortal God for images made to look like a mortal human being and birds and animals and reptiles. . . . They exchanged the truth about God for a lie, and worshiped and served created things rather than the Creator—who is forever praised. Amen." Unfortunately, this is the same mistake that many of us make today–worshiping the thing created instead of the Creator.

This has been a problem since Old Testament times. Most children have probably learned about the Tower of Babel in Sunday school. This commonly taught story might just be the most catastrophic example of people worshiping their own work instead of God. "Then they said, 'Come, let us build ourselves a city, with a tower that reaches to the heavens, so that we may make a name for ourselves; otherwise we will be scattered over the face of the whole earth,'" (Genesis 11:4). Because the people were coming together to worship earthly things and seek personal glory, God confused their languages to prevent them from understanding each other. By doing this, He stopped them from building the sinful tower. "So the Lord scattered them from there over all the earth, and they stopped building the city," (Genesis 11:9).

God created each and every one of His people with certain capabilities. People have been able to do some pretty amazing things with these capabilities, but the glory should always go back to the Lord who makes it all possible. Scripture says that destruction will come on those whose eyes are on worldly things. As Christians, we shouldn't be distracted from our Creator by impressive or exciting experiences in this world, but we should instead use everything as a chance to glorify Him. We should obey passages like Psalm 100:1-3, which says:

"Shout for joy to the Lord, all the earth.

Worship the Lord with gladness;

    come before him with joyful songs.

Know that the Lord is God.

    It is he who made us, and we are his;

    we are his people, the sheep of his pasture." 

K has always been there,

My leader, everything she shares,

A silver bead, the centerpiece.

A stood up for me,

Strength and care she shows,

A maroon bead that glows.

A and E don’t go too deep,

Still, excited fun we seek,

A sunlight bead of happy.

S is one who writes like I do,

He inspires me to try things new,

A cerulean bead who encourages me.

L and M have come and gone;

In distant past, R and J slipped away.

Still, their colored beads remain.

I’ve got these beads upon my wrist,

And if I had only one wish,

I’d repay all of their friendship

And give them only happiness.

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.

“Who else would I tell this to?”

“You’re such a big doof.”

“I love you,” sounds like

Wordless hugs,

Useless gifts,

Inside jokes,

Sugary snacks,

Warming hands,

Pats on the back.

“I love you,”

Is watching out for the other;

What makes them smile,

The needs they don’t voice.

No matter what,

Love is a choice.

It isn’t just the words we say,

But the things we do,

Every day.

Sometimes, “I love you,”

Sounds like something else.

Don’t you love the kids who make us laugh,

Who give without asking back?

Who goof off with those closest to them,

Who screw up again and again?

Don’t you love the kids who try to be chill,

But you see a smile break through, still?

The chaotic kids, so full of life,

It’s love or hate, in the blink of an eye.

Don’t you love the kids, unafraid,

Who will gladly look like a fool,

Who are so unashamedly lame

That it makes them cool?

The land of Great Lake Erie

And Oliver Hazard Perry.

These beaches tell of courage.

“Don’t give up the ship!” they said.

Pennsylvania is my job at the small grocery store,

And the elderly and disabled

Who come through the door

With those willing to help them out,

Who can always give more.

Pennsylvania is the church buried in the woods,

With only twenty members

Who go there every Sunday and Tuesday

To remember

How we’re saved.

Our Savior died on a tree

To take the sins of you and me.

We walk in faith,

We live in love,

Because of this great sacrifice

From heaven above.

This is the Pennsylvania I see

From the small town of Harborcreek.

These woods may be different for another,

But no matter what,

Pennsylvania is like no other.

A foreign drama

To those in prosperity. 

For politicians, a game

With life as a chess piece.

King me.

The road to honor,

Or rout to defeat.

What is war?

Bloody hands

Clinging to hope.

Desperate hearts.

One place to go.

Words nobody ever heard.

The people’s needs have been ignored.

There’s always a way,

But nobody said there wouldn’t be pain.

What is war?

War is victory and defeat,

Homeless children in the street.

Hand that she won’t hold again,

Prints he can’t leave in the sand. 

Ruined lives and broken times.

War is where the heroes die.

What is war?

Courage and honor,

A cause to believe in.

To a broken problem,

A broken solution.

Those fighting the fight.

The dark before the light.

This is war.

Because of the new covenant in Christ, the old law, including its rules for the Sabbath, is no longer in place. However, God’s advice on rest is still the same. An example can be found in Luke 10:38-42, when Jesus visits Mary and Martha. While Martha is busy with her many chores, Martha sits at Jesus’ feet and listens to Him speaking. Martha complains to Jesus that her sister isn’t helping with the work, and this is Jesus’ response: “Martha, Martha, you are worried and upset about many things, but one thing is necessary. Mary has made the right choice, and it will not be taken away from her” (verses 41b-42). Fellowship with Jesus is far more important than earthly chores. This passage and those in the Old Testament both indicate that a relationship with God is far more important than physical work. Even if you’re working for something good, if it gets in the way of your Christian walk, it will harm you more than it will help you.

Work can mean many different things, from efforts to reach personal goals, to chores done around the house. Many people’s motivation to work, however, is to earn an income and provide for themselves or their family. In any case, it isn’t really our job at all to provide. In Luke 12:22-24, 27-30, Jesus tells His disciples: “Don’t worry about your life, what you will eat; or about the body, what you will wear. For life is more than food and the body more than clothing. Consider the ravens: They don’t sow or reap; they don’t have a storeroom or a barn; yet God feeds them. Aren’t you worth much more than the birds?. . . Consider how the wildflowers grow: They don’t labor or spin thread. Yet I tell you, not even Solomon in all his splendor was adorned like one of these! If that’s how God clothes the grass, which is in the field today and is thrown into the furnace tomorrow, how much more will He do for you—you of little faith? Don’t keep striving for what you should eat and what you should drink, and don’t be anxious. For the Gentile world eagerly seeks all these things, and your Father knows that you need them.” In practical terms, there should be a healthy balance of God’s provision and our effort in terms of day-to-day life. Still, He cares about us, and His plans are always perfect, so He can absolutely allow us to prosper without working ourselves to death every day.

I’m not suggesting that anyone should quit their job or give up on everything they’re striving for, but God does tell us that He will provide, and that a relationship with Him is far more important than anything else we can work for here on earth. God wants us to bring honor to Him. He wants us to work hard, but He also emphasizes the importance of rest. What is the point of achieving anything if, at the end of the day, we’ve forgotten to allow time for the One who gave us the abilities to achieve it? God didn’t create us to be machines. He wants us to work, yes, but He also wants us to slow down and appreciate the world that He created and the life that He gives us. Most importantly, we must slow down to appreciate Him.

Am I really giving up?

Take the pieces of my puzzle,

Throw them in the air,

But hold on

To what's still there.

I want to create.

I want to inspire,

To make someone's eyes

Rise a little higher.

I want to be me

And help you to be you.

I want to be free

And free others, too.

It's not about likes,

I just want to fly.

Hold onto that dream

And I'll be just fine.

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

But there’s still a me-sized dent in my bed,

Taunting me as my resolves reach their end. 

I hate myself.

I don’t want to be anyone else,

But I wish I could escape me,

Stop being this lazy.

I used to say anything was possible,

But there’s a lot I can’t do, 

Always thought I was motivated.

I guess that’s not true.

I’m a loser and I didn’t even know it.

I look in the mirror and hate that me,

But is she really who You see?

You see Your creation,

Tired and broken

But healed by salvation,

Worthy by Your hand,

Though on her own she can’t stand,

A girl doing what she can do,

A girl ready to live for You.

She fails again every day,

But You pick her up,

Just the same.

Tired, weary, and put to the test,

It’s only in You

That she can find rest.

We want to be a light,

Do all that we can do.

Warm, gentle, and caring,

Yes, that’s me and you.

We’re both so active in spirit,

We just have to let it out,

Try all different things,

Be creative now.

We are the old souls

In our deepest contemplations,

And the most youthful children

In our wonder and our actions.

We are love and light,

Soft, calm comfort,

Blazing fire of compassion, 

Vibrant hues of life.

We are contradictions,

Complex mazes of the mind.

Yes, that’s us,

We’re two of a kind.

New failure

What we want to change

Always makes a point to stay

What we need to stay

Is bound someday to change

Time flows too fast

They'll fall away

They'll never last

Moving on without us

No one left to trust

When we're stuck here

Trapped by our fear

Running in circles alone

Trapped in this box we call home

Surrounded by the rolling racing tide

But we can't enjoy the ride

Right here we stay stuck

The kids who never grew up

They say we'll learn and grow 

How do they know

They mock all of the adults

Who act like kids

Who won't give their all

Don't know how to exist

How long before that's you or me

Just when will we be

The kids who never grew up

Still we keep going

In the box, our own current flowing

The perfect future

We haven't found

Dusty wings brush the ground

Pulling, hoping, running, falling

Rushing, rising, living, flying

Maybe we didn't grow up 

Maybe we're still stuck

In our quirky reality

But we can still be

The kids who rose above

The kids who never gave up

I'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

And the wind that chases clouds away.

I am rising sun and falling snow,

A peaceful place for you to go,

The world outside your window.

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.

Full of bittersweet memory.

When I found the melody of our summer

Amid cold and frigid winter.

A new dream unlocked inside of me,

An anticipation,

The culmination of

Everything I love,

A wonder for life.

I was ready to learn to fly

The day my wings began to grow,

Unfolding under winter snow,

Verses floating in my mind,

Magic I could almost find.

Puzzle pieces fall together

In this preview for warmer weather.

Life is not just memory,

But present joy,

The joy to breathe,

Every moment getting higher.

Passion burns in me like fire.

I still remember broken nights,

But on and on and on I’ll fight,

If only for the days like this,

When cold holds off,

When warm resists,

When highs and lows of adrenalin

Leave me in the place I’m in.

I don’t want to be

Crippled by a dream.

I want to be a daughter,

Making my parents proud.

I want to be a sister,

Giving my siblings smiles.

I want to be a friend,

Giggling through the night.

I want to be an encouragement,

Picking others up.

I want to be a Christian,

Living in the light.

I want to be a human,

Living vibrantly.

Creating magic

In the world around me.

I don’t want to miss a moment,

Focusing on only one thing.

I don’t want to be alone

In my world of beauty.

I want to write.

I want to draw.

I want to blog.

I want to dance.

I want to sing.

I want to have fun.

I want to smile.

I want to talk.

I want to laugh.

I want to help.

I won’t be

Crippled by a dream.

I will be a human.

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

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

I will live vibrantly.

    In this same passage Anne says, “There’s such a lot of different Annes in me. I sometimes think that’s why I’m such a troublesome person. If I was just the one Anne it would be ever so much more comfortable, but then it wouldn’t be half so interesting.” Sometimes I feel like I have too many different personalities, too. I’m calm and thoughtful but also fun and energetic. It’s definitely confusing and “troublesome”, as Anne puts it, but it does make things more colorful.

     Another thing I loved in this chapter was the description of Anne’s room. “It was as if all the dreams, sleeping and waking, of its vivid occupant had taken a visible though immaterial form and had tapestried the bare room with splendid filmy tissues of rainbow and moonshine.” My bedroom is a special place for me because, even beyond the decorations and posters, it is full of me. The walls are full of my hopes. The sentiment is even more powerful to Anne because this is her first real home. The thought makes me thankful for my special place.

     I can relate to the way Anne is a scatterbrain, too. I don’t starch handkerchiefs and forget to take pies out of the oven, but I do get distracted imagining like she does. Sometimes I decide to make up stories in my head about the people I see at the store. When I do this, I often get distracted from the rest of reality. It takes a moment to get a hold on what’s happening around me. Anne also mentions how she and Diana made up the Haunted Wood to add some excitement to their little world. I understand the urge for thrill. I try to invent interesting things, too.

     The most memorable part of the chapter was when Anne had to walk through the Haunted Wood at night. I had a similar feeling of senseless dread a few months ago when I decided I had to draw thirteen pictures for an art contest with a deadline two days away. I knew I didn’t have enough time, but I felt like I had to do it, so I felt anxious about the entire situation. It was a problem I created for myself, but I was still upset about it. This isn’t the same as the situation Anne put herself in, but I think the feeling is the same. It’s like when you’re in line for a scary roller coaster and all you want to do is run away.

     There are many scenes in just this one chapter that I can relate to deeply. This is mainly because of the character and her emotions, but setting also plays a part. Besides these, the way the author writes brings me even closer to the story.

      In God’s view, everyone has value. Every moment until the very end is special, so the elderly can still honor God and take advantage of His joys. The same goes for the disabled. More struggles simply means more chances for victory. Every life is important, even those that haven't started yet. They can see it all one day, too. With the right view of God, anyone and everyone can come together in peace and hope.

     Maybe the sun begins to break the clouds and the depressed person smiles despite himself. The rain stops, and he exits his car to the smell of clean air. He might notice a soaking wet paper stuck to the pavement. He gently picks it up to see a Bible verse. Suddenly his world is full of hope.

      In God’s view, everyone has value. Every moment until the very end is special, so the elderly can still honor God and take advantage of His joys. The same goes for the disabled. More struggles simply means more chances for victory. Every life is important, even those that haven't started yet. They can see it all one day, too. With the right view of God, anyone and everyone can come together in peace and hope.

     Maybe the sun begins to break the clouds and the depressed person smiles despite himself. The rain stops, and he exits his car to the smell of clean air. He might notice a soaking wet paper stuck to the pavement. He gently picks it up to see a Bible verse. Suddenly his world is full of hope.

people on Instagram and my parents’ friends on Facebook. I’m learning all I can and trying out new things. I’m taking in the people and the world around me and enjoying it all with wide eyes.

     I’m already on the first step to reaching my goal. Another part of this step is entering contests to gain exposure. From here, I’ll try to get featured in some blogs and magazines, and sell some of my work. I’ll work on writing my book, and when it's ready to publish, I’ll work on that. Once I’m a little older and have more money, freedom, and experience, I’ll go for bigger things; art galleries and exhibits, book signings, and who knows what else. The sky’s the limit!

     When I think about it, my goal isn’t very specific. That doesn’t matter; I don’t need to know everything when I’m only fifteen years old.The important thing is that I have a goal, even if it’s outlandish. I’m going to try my best to achieve whatever form this dream will take.

Never growing old.

Ever rising passion, 

Simple wonder at the world.

Age 

Is just a number

Maybe 

We can choose it.

Old and wise,

Young and vibrant,

What if

We could have it all? 

What if

There were no limits?

Mandatory things that may go in short supply include light, oxygen, and food supplies. One example is the near starvation that the first settlers in the Jamestown colony faced. Navigation is also a major concern if a mistake is made.

     If the challenges are overcome, however, exploration has many benefits. Some people have found peace and freedom in new lands, while others have simply found a place to spread out and stop overpopulation. Natural resources are always valuable finds for countries both to use and to sell. Research expeditions provide useful information that can be used in places we’ve already settled. Exploring God’s awe-inspiring creation can also be a means to get closer to Him, as was the case for some of the astronauts involved in the mission to the moon.

     Exploration is a great and dangerous thing. It takes someone who is brave and determined to go where no one has gone before. As life continues and more and more is explored, finding these unknown places becomes harder and harder. That doesn’t mean people will stop, though. We’ve still got that spark, the urge to find more.

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

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

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

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

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

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

     "Nerd!" Nicolas taunted.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

     "Isn't that called mercy?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

     I shrugged, "I guess."

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

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

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

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

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

     She shrugs.

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

     "Sure, that sounds good."

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

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

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

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

     Georgia snorts.

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

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

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

     By now we're back at the nativity.

     "You lost me," Georgia laughs.

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

of mercy to the evil to take or leave. If they take it, they will naturally change for the better (1 Corinthians 5:17). Leave it, and they will be firmly punished. They had their chance.

     God does everything that He does out of love. He loves His creation, despite everything, so He shows us mercy. He loves His children who accept mercy, so He punishes those who are still guilty. His love is resilient, like a bulletproof wall shielding us. God loves us with a passion, though we don’t deserve it. 1 Corinthians 13:4 says, “Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.”

     Think of your person again. Now imagine all of their faults taken away. Imagine them with all of the power and authority in the world. They still don’t look at all like God. One essay hardly comes close to describing His majesty. He is the definition and source of every good thing. He is great and wonderful. He is like the sky above our heads; magnificent and always there, yet impossible to physically touch, feel, or comprehend.

that. Some trees are marked off with ribbons. The woods are protected wetlands, so nobody can come in and wreck the place. I can still help in little ways, though, like by picking up the litter that blows out of people’s garbage cans and ends up in the creek.

     There are still problems, though. The aforementioned litter is mostly ignored. My neighbors cleared out the trees in their section of the woods. A lot more trees have fallen simply because of their shallow roots.The muddy banks of the creek easily get eroded, especially with four wheelers driving over them.

     Even if they aren’t mine, the woods are my special place. They make me feel at home. In the woods, I’m alone, yet more connected to God and the people around me, whether I know those people or not. This is why preserving the woods is important to me. I’m going to do all I can, even if that isn’t much. After all, “The earth is the Lord’s, and everything in it, the world, and all who live in it,” --Psalm 24:1.

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.

with a single step,” and I think that step is to get ready. I can’t exactly pack up and fly to France this second, but I will someday. Right now all I can do is prepare. The more I know about the world, the better equipped I’ll be to enjoy it. Abraham Verghese says, “I’m a great believer in geography being destiny.”

     Lastly, I want to make the most of everything around me. God created this entire world, the very least I can do is hear about what’s out there. God describes His followers as, “The people whom I formed for myself that they might declare my praise,” in Isaiah 43:21. What better way to proclaim His praise than to appreciate His amazing works? God must be honored when we marvel at His creation, the same way I like it when someone compliments one of my paintings.

     I didn’t have much of a choice about studying geography this year, but I’m happy to get the opportunity. I can’t wait to see what I can learn. This is about God’s breathtaking world, after all. “The earth is the Lord's and the fullness thereof, the world and those who dwell therein, for He has founded it upon the seas and established it upon the rivers.”--Psalm 24:1-2.

fiercer until she thought her body would explode. She opened her mouth to cough or scream, but was met with the thick taste of rot. She writhed, kicking her arms and legs with the little strength she had left as the invisible enemy pursued her. It was no use, no matter which she turned, it was all the same. All black. All painful. Her mind was racing like a guinea pig on its wheel, so fast that she couldn’t catch any of the thoughts. Tears stung her eyes. Everything hurt. The world was spinning. That was when she saw a murky, green-brown light. She wasn't thinking at all, all she knew or cared about was reaching that light. Her own body was a blur as she thrashed with all her might. At last she bobbed up into blinding sunlight, coughing fiercely and gasping for air. She fell under again almost immediately, but kicked her way up once again. The water almost seemed angry, though. She was only able to hack out one strained shriek for help before it forced her under again. This time she stopped fighting. The world was already dark. Now it was going numb, too. 

"Are you sure that's all you remember? Sarah asks as Kayla finishes retelling the story.

"Uh huh,” Kayla replies in a hollow tone. "After that I woke up on the beach and you were there, and we started talking. You mentioned a friend named Kayla and I thought that was familiar. You know what happened since then." She says it all without any emotion, fiddling with the pink petals of a nearby flower as she talks. They are hidden in Sarah's garden, which is between Mrs. Wilson's house and the shed that serves as Sarah and Kayla's bedroom. The shed is tucked back into the dry weeds where nobody notices it. Because nobody ever goes back there, the garden is a bit secret. The reason it has to be secret is because clean water is scarce in the town. It needs to be brought in from other places, but it's getting scarce there, too. Not only does Sarah need to share her rations to make the flowers grow, she needs to protect the flowers from the toxic rain. Because of these inconvenient factors, gardening is illegal. Sarah can't give up her garden, though. It's the only place where she feels like she can breathe, both literally and mentally. Now sunlight is slanting through the leaves and landing on the rusty bench where Sarah and Kayla sit. Sunflowers are growing up to their left, and the ground ahead is carpeted in purple. Two white butterflies are playing in the air, and a bird chirps not far away.

"I know what happened from there up until you saw those butterflies and said they reminded you of something. What was it?" 

“I don't know.”

"Well, think! Don't you want to remember?" Sarah presses gently. Kayla shruggs.

"Hey, I get that knowing can be hard. I know how my parents died, and now I'm afraid of fire, but I'd still rather have that than just cluelessness."

Kayla is silent. 

"Do you want to live in the dark?"

"I really don't care." 

"Do you care about anything?"

“No.”

“I should've known, I guess. Ever since I met you, you haven't smiled once. You're beautiful, but you’d be so much prettier if you smiled.” Sarah pauses thoughtfully.

Kayla knows what she wants to ask, but she is hesitant. "Do you think I have a personality?"

Sarah doesn't know what to say. She doesn't want to be rude, but Kayla needs her to answer honestly. "I think you could have one,” is all she can offer. 

"I knew I didn't,” Kayla states almost matter-of-factly.

"I'm sorry.”

“But you think I could?" There is almost a hint of emotion in her tone. The tiniest glint of hope. "Of course, who's stopping you?" 

"I don't know. Somebody."

"What?" 

"I think... I think I used to have a personality. I used to care. I can just barely геmember what it felt like. I want it back, but I just... can't. Something won't let me." 

"Kayla! Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Sarah asks, excited. 

Kayla shrugs."What's the point?"

"The fact that you want it proves there's still something there! Whatever is holding you up,

we can work past it. Nothing can block you from being yourself!" Sarah exclaims, her brown eyes sparkling passionately.

Kayla just stares into space.

“Pease. Just try,” Sarah pleads more gently. 

Kayla continues to sit perfectly still, her graceful hands folded in her lap, for an unnaturally long time. 

"Kayla?" Sarah begins to get worried. “What's going on?”

Kayla still doesn't move, but her breathing gradually gets heavier until she is panting as if in terror. 

"Kayla..."

All at once she sucks in her breath and springs up off of the bench. She leans against a small blossoming tree and does the most shocking thing while still catching her breath. She smiles-- no, grins. True to what Sarah said earlier, Kayla is a thousand times more beautiful when she smiles. Her pale skin lights up and two perfect dimples appear on her smooth cheeks. Her petite nose scrunches ever so slightly and, most importantly, her crystal blue eyes open wide to let the world in. She is so shocked, all she can do is laugh.

Sarah, taken aback, can't help giggling, too. “Kayla! Are you ok?" she manages to squeeze out. 

Kayla shakes her head, causing her curls to bounce before answering. "Not Kayla! I know who I really am!"

"What?" Sarah stops giggling and stares into the eyes of Kayla, who has also regained her composure. "Did you say…” 

Kayla nods. "You were right, nothing can stop me! I remember everything! I have a personality!” 

Sarah doesn't know how to respond. “Kayla, that's... amazing!" 

"I remember my real name, too. Call me Kalalaya.”

"Kalalaya?" 

She nods.

"That's not a normal name. I love it." 

"It's not normal for humans, anyway." 

"Wait..." 

"I'd better explain from the beginning."

So Kalalaya tells the whole story. As it turns out, she isn't human. She's a living particle of water. The community that she lived in before makes up the lake near Sarah's hometown where the foul water comes from. They are called the cursed, because they were doomed to a stagnant life of waste by the evil witch, Genella. Legends claim that Genella cursed the community by mistake in an experiment but didn’t bother trying to fix the damage. Nobody could punish her since the crime was unintentional, but she still faced seclusion. The lack of contact with other creatures and the knowledge that everyone was blaming her made Genella  hard and bitter.

The curse made everyone useless. Some got angry and rebelled, completing their usual journeys anyway. This spread the poison farther and harmed the crops in town. Most just stayed put, living a useless life of nothingness. Spirits in the community sank low and lives became bland. Kalalaya handled it differently. She knew she couldn't let anger control her since that only harmed others, but she wasn't going to sit around and let life pass by without any action, either. What she did was make her own fun and adventures where she was, spreading her happiness and curiosity with the rest of the community to ease the gloom. Life was pretty good for Kalalaya, who never stopped dreaming about going on journeys someday, but what she didn't know was that she had an enemy. It was Genella, who was by that point an angry and depressed creature who didn’t want anyone to be happy without her. With nothing better to do, she set her focus on getting rid of Kalalaya.

An opportunity came sooner than Genella had expected when rumors started spreading about a water creature who'd turned into a human. Kalalaya thought that would be the perfect opportunity for adventure, so she began searching out ways to do it herself. That was when Genella reached out in disguise and offered to perform the magic on the over-eager girl.

"We met in a cave where she told me to go a few weeks ago, and then she cornered me and revealed who she really was and that her plan was to turn me into a dull human forever to get rid of me,” Kalalaya goes on.

"Why would she tell you?” Sarah asks, eyes wide. 

"I'll bet she wanted to see me afraid, rotten scum--"

"Were you afraid?"

“Well, I don't think anyone could be pleased about something like this! But it's over now, and I have my personality back, so it worked out." 

“Did it, now?” a high, cruel voice demanded from the side of the garden, making both girls jump. They turn to see a tall, bony figure standing with her hands on her hips. Her wrinkled face is creased in a permanent frown.

"Mrs. Wilson! W-why are you--" Sarah begins. 

"Sarah, dear! I asked you to wash the dishes ages ago! Now stop playing in fairyland and show some gratitude for what I've done for you!" Mrs. Wilson snaps, uprooting a sunflower and tossing it aside as she talks. 

"Yes m--”

"Wait!" Kalalaya puts her arm out to stop Sarah from standing up. 

"Ah, and Kayla--"

Kalalaya growels at this. 

“--you never emptied the waste bin, and now I've got to do it myself.” With that, Mrs. Wilson picks up a basket the girls hadn't noticed before and dumps its contents into a patch of petunias. 

"You can't just--”

"That's going to hurt my people!” 

"Oh, that's right, Kalalaya, was it?" 

"How long have you been listening?" 

"Long enough to know what I need to know." 

"And that means…”

“I know that my fool of a sister is at it again. I'm on her side this time, but of course she can't pull it off! Now I'll need to step in." 

"Wait, did you say--”

"Yes, yes, what a shock. Unfortunately, Genella is my sister.”

"But you're a human..."

"Did you honestly think she just made that one mistake? I'm another of her failed experiments. Filthy rat turned me human, can't turn me back." 

"Then why are on her side now?" Kalalaya asks, immersed in the story.

"You were this close to breaking her curse with your happiness--" Mrs. Wilson spits this word out, “--and they don't deserve to fly free while I'm stuck here. Getting rid of you was the best bet. Since she couldn't do it, I will," Mrs. Wilson raises her voice on the last two words, making both girls jump. In a quick motion, she has them hovering in the air above the bench. They both shriek at the same time. Kalalaya begins kicking and writhing in the air while Sarah freezes in terror.

"Let us go!" Kalalaya shouts. With a nod of her head, Mrs. Wilson dropps both girls to the ground. Sarah crashes into the corner of the bench and sits panting on the ground. Kalalaya Falls onto a thorny rose bush. "Thanks," she grumbles. 

"That was just for fun. Now it's time to finish what my idiot sister started!" 

"She's going to take away your passion. Do something!" Sarah whispers urgently. 

Kalalaya immediately begins to panic. Palms sweating, she has the feeling like she's suffocating. It's the same way she felt when Genella cursed her the first time. But she made it through that. She can do it again. Before she knows what she's doing, she stands up and realizes that Mrs. Wilson is on the ground breathing hard. "What did I just do?" Kalalaya asks.

"Something,” Sarah breathes.

"Did I... take her powers?"

"Looks like it."

Mrs. Wilson is now pulling herself up, sputtering and swearing. She waves her arms at the girls like mad, but nothing happens. 

"Were you too strong for her?"

"I guess." 

"I wonder if you could defeat Genella, too. Would that break the curse?" 

"It makes sense. Going after the source has to work better than ignoring the problem. I'll just have to figure out how to get to her." 

"Are you aware that you're shrinking?" 

"Ah! What? Sarah, I think I'm changing back!" Kalalaya is already half as tall as her friend. 

"Well, that explains how you'll get to Genella."

"Will I be strong enough to defeat her?" 

"Of course. You can handle anything."

"What about Mrs. Wilson?"

"I'll get the police to take care of her."

"And you?”

"I'll be fine, but will I ever see you again?"

"Every time it rains, "Kalalaya promises just as she shrinks so small that Sarah can't see her.

Should I use techniques or just be free?

Which option is most easy?

Whatever I do it must be my own,

But look! I’ve already made a poem! 

in a house with six kids. We followed Yoga With Adrian on YouTube and she talked a lot about making time for yourself and accepting your body as it is while finding ways to improve that feel good. In one video she said, “Self love; an ongoing regular practice, not something we tap into when we’re down and out, or when we’re in that kind of fight or flight mode, but rather a regular practice.” I took in some of what she said and I thought it made a lot of sense, but to be completely honest, I really just liked doing the poses. I definitely didn’t make self love a regular practice, at any rate.

     A few months ago, however, my sister and I started listening to the popular k-pop group, BTS. The band is big on self love, and their songs are what finally helped me get it. This translation from one of their songs, “Answer: Love Myself”, really caught my attention: “Loving myself might be harder

Than loving someone else

Let’s admit it

The standards I made are more strict for myself

...

Now let’s forgive ourselves

Our lives are long, trust yourself when in a maze.”

     When you think of yourself, what is the first word that comes to your mind? A few people might respond to this question with “unique” or “creative” or “funny”, but a lot might say “ugly” or “fat” or “stupid”. Now, how would you answer this question about your best friend? If you’re being totally honest, some of you will think of outward flaws first, but, chances are, you’ll quickly slap yourself and focus instead on said friend’s good qualities like kindness or love. What exactly is the difference between you and your best friend that your bad qualities are worse than theirs? Why is the scale different when it’s you? To me, self love is about looking at yourself the way you would look at anybody else because, the fact is, we’re all humans.

     Some people might argue that they really don’t have anything to love about themselves. That is untrue. I believe that we were all created by God, who knows what He is doing. To quote Genesis 1:27, “So God created human beings in His own image. In the image of God He created them. Male and female He created them.” He made you just the way He wants you. Just like there are flaws in any human, every one of us has something worth loving, too. You just have to try a little. Work to find something about yourself to love and then grow that.

      In a speech to the United Nations, RM of BTS said this: “Maybe I made a mistake yesterday, but yesterday’s me is still me. I am who I am today, with all my faults. Tomorrow I might be a tiny bit wiser, and that’s me, too. These faults and mistakes are what I am, making up the brightest stars in the constellation of my life. I have come to love myself for who I was, who I am, and who I hope to become.”

     Other people may avoid self love because they don’t want to become, well, selfish. This is actually a legitimate concern for some. Self love can go too far. We can start seeing ourselves as perfect and stop trying to improve. It’s important to remember that you are sinful and imperfect, but so is everyone else. It’s about what we focus on, and how we handle ourselves with the flaws. Some people might feel entitled. You don’t deserve the entire world, you deserve what you can get for yourself. Hard work is crucial. Finally, you could become self centered and love yourself more than you love anyone else. This is neither healthy nor kind. The key is balance. Know who you are and who everyone else is. We are all humans. We all have good qualities and bad ones. Treat yourself the way you would treat any other human, no better and no worse.

     Self love can be hard and confusing, but it’s worth the effort. I was inspired by the music made by seven people who are all the way across the world from me, so I hope you can be inspired by me, a random teenage girl behind this random post. If nothing else, I hope this can at least be to you what the soothing voice between downward dogs was to me: a start. Remember to look at yourself in the right light, and keep making more things to love.

A friend is someone

Who takes selfies and vacuums candy with you. 

A friend is someone

To get into messes with.

A friend is someone 

Who laughs with you.

A friend is someone

To share crazy memories with.

A friend is someone

Who plots with you. 

A friend is someone

To make you enjoy watching the stupid movie.

A friend is someone

Who lets you be weird. 

A friend is someone

To whip pillows at.

A friend is someone

Who can stay up all night with you. 

A friend is someone

To talk to.

A friend is someone 

Who makes you smile.

And now it will not stop

Face aflame 

And shaking bottom to top 

You cannot pause the tidal wave 

The tears are in your eyes

This humorous delight 

Well, it has no disguise

Your body is in chaos

As all your systems panic

But right now it's all ok

Not at all like being sick

You've never felt so happy 

You're light as a balloon

As laughter echoes through the night

Your smiles reach the moon

You try to get a grip 

Suck desperately for air

You’re so close to a stop

But then you dare

You cast a glance at her

And look her in the eye

And then you both collapse

To laugh until you cry

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.

A dream.

You know it now.

What do you do?

You could roll over 

And try to go back to sleep,

Or you could rub your eyes,

Push away the mist,

And get up.

Slip your shoes on.

Say hello to the morning.

Greet the world.

Live in reality 

And bring your dream along. 

Take a step

Even just a small one,

And then take another 

To bring that dream 

Into reality.

What if things are fixed differently for others?

What if some things aren’t fixed at all?

What if anything is possible?

That’s the only logic.

My heart believes in magic.

My head believes it, too,

But deep deep down, 

In both head and heart,

I know I'll never see it. 

The closet holds no world for me.

There's nothing between platforms nine and ten. 

I believe in magic,

But magic won't believe in me.

I have seen magic.

Oh, silly me!

I don't need the talking animals.

I can do without the spells.

I have seen magic—

The magic of a smile, 

The magic of transfiguring tears, 

And time’s own diamond vial.

I believe in fairy bells

That tinkle as we laugh, 

In the vigorous dance of life,

And the beat to which we tap

I believe in worlds of words,

Pages that invite you in.

I believe in color and in light,

Where magic can begin.

I believe in magic, 

The magic of my life.

I may never meet a unicorn

Or greet the mighty centaur,

But who’s to say

That they aren’t real?

Magic is real.

After all,

We're alive

And surrounded by magic

All the time.

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.

We are all tainted.

Anyone who has ever done wrong

Is an evil sinner. 

No matter how small the deed,

However many good things we’ve done, 

It doesn't matter.

You are an evil sinner.

I am an evil sinner.

Every person 

Ever to live,

All sinners

Except one.

Long ago, a Child was born

In a manger,

A humble birth for a king,

For the King,

The Son of God,

The Artist coming to restore His painting.

It was the second beginning.

That Child,

Christ,

Would become our Savior.

Justice says that

Sinners deserve to die.

Mercy says that

We're no longer sinners. 

Christ took our sin,

Forgave it,

And died to pay for it. 

All we have to do

Is trust

In Him

To be saved.

I will be saved.

You can be saved. 

Death came from sin,

So Christ defeated both.

His grave is empty.

Now He is in Heaven,

The unspoiled picture. 

I will meet Him there one day.

Will you?

I 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.

That you'd use on anybody else

To really see yourself. 

It's a magical moment.

When you look in the mirror

And see your flaws

Without letting them define you.

It's a magical moment

When you look in the mirror

And love the person smiling back at you.

It's a magical moment

When you look in the mirror

And realize God knew what He was doing

When He put you together.

It's a magical moment

When you look in the mirror

And realize you don't need it anymore.

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.

That you can sort us out

Like Uno cards?

Well, skip my turn.

Count me out.

I'm a wildcard.

Are we all red, blue, green, or yellow?

What about teal, vermillion, lilac, magenta? 

I don't want to be a normal color.

What is normal?

No two people are exactly alike, 

So nobody is normal.

We're all a different shade,

But even that is too limited.

I told you, I'm a wildcard.

You can keep lying if you want.

I don't mind if you're ok with

"Type normal",

But I think I'll go with

Type me.

I move towards them but I’m lost

I can hardly turn my mind on 

Just faded mists of dreams

Beyond the reach of language

Maybe I’ll just express with color beams

I’d better try before they turn beige

I know the state of the world,

But I'm really happy.

Why?

I know this: 

Flowers bloom,

The sun rises,

And children laugh.

For every hurtful word

There's an encouraging hug. 

For every wound

There’s a bandage hidden somewhere.

I know about the darkness,

But I live in the light.

That's why I smile like this.

Well, we've all got one of those, 

Big or small, 

Tiny or tall.

So what do we do with that dream? 

It's more simple than it may seem.

Start the ride, 

Put one foot before the other

And hold on tight.

They say a very small percent makes it.

A high percent knows that

And doesn't try.

A high percent gives up,

Because they're lazy

Or scared

Or "too busy."

You're never too busy to dream

Never too busy to try.

A high percent gets discouraged,

But you don’t have to.

Just enjoy the journey

So you won’t lose the destination.

It might sound like a hard climb,

But all you need to do

Is focus on today.

Get up right now.

Do it.

Take a step.

You really can’t know

Unless you try.

And the lines do get bent.

We're teenage girls

Expanding our worlds

And this is the best time.

To be alive.

I'm normally calm.

Compared to other kids I'm an angel, 

But I'm still stupid 

And smart about it.

I am careful

That as far as I can see,

The only person I could hurt is me,

So let's go a little crazy 

And laugh until it hurts 

And then just be.

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

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

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

The other thing about this opening is that it doesn't exactly sound like poetry. The tone is too casual. This is actually an effective technique because, while flowery symbolism can be ok, it's easy to get lost in some more poetic wording. Frost makes sure to get his point across so readers can understand it easily. The simple rhyme scheme throughout the rest of the poem helps with this as well. Casual language, especially when it has a meaning, is beautiful in its own way. 

Overall the poem, specifically the opening, is very relatable to readers because of the wording. This just proves how important word choice is to writers and poets. I like Frost's style in this poem because it is unique and creative.

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.

But she is, somehow 

A superhero now!

When I'm feeling mad or sad 

I open up a certain Book.

What's there that makes me feel so glad? 

Why don't you take a look!

Needless to say, these two responses are dramatically different. Surely the people in Hester's community had all sinned, just like the people in John 8, but they chose only to focus on what Hester did, because it seemed worse. Jesus, on the other hand, pointed out that we are all sinners. Every small sin is despicable to God, and everyone deserves to die for their sin. We are only saved by God’s mercy, so we shouldn't condemn others. 

I don't really have to say whose response was better. When dealing with someone else’s sin we should try to act like Jesus acted. As always, we get the best result when we follow His example.

son, was the next ruler of Israel. God offered to give him anything he wanted, and he chose wisdom. God was pleased with this choice, so He gave Solomon wisdom and money. Solomon’s request proved that he was a selfless ruler, but he, too, sinned. He had many, many different wives and these wives had many, many different gods. Solomon himself began to worship the false gods, and that did not go well. He put idols in God's way. 

These kings did some terrible things to take them away from God, and it really isn’t all that different from when we sin in small ways every day. Faith is the most important thing, but it is easier than we think to mess up. Good thing God is always there, ready to forgive us if we ask.

What about history? Were past wars worth fighting to Christians? Let's take a look at the Declaration of Independence, for example. Thomas Jefferson did give several good reasons for the colonies to be upset with the King of Britain, but did these reasons have to lead to wars? Something had to be done but I don't think the situation had to be as extreme as it was. They should have protested kindly, talked it out and consulted the Bible a bit more before starting a full out revolution.

What about now? Coronavirus obsession is still going on along with Black Lives Matter protests. With the election coming up, the level of crazy in this country isn't going down. Some people post their every thought and opinion on social media. Others throw rocks at cars and burn buildings. What should we do? Like in any situation, we should follow the Bible above all. If we have to speak out, we should do so in a way that is both loving and logical.

That was a lot of words, but here is the main point of it all: be thoughtful, be careful, be peaceful, and always look at God's Word first.

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