Exams

My pencil sharpened
my mind overflowing with notes
a blank paper
and i'm ready to go
my legs are still
and my hands don't  shake
but inside my mind aches
this whole year
all the lectures
but my brain is clear
what do I do
the tests are passed out
on the ground I tap my shoe
question one  the square root of  pie
this will be a long test
oh my

Life

Today I ate
and she starves
today I learned
and she works
today I laughed
and she cried
today I helped
and she smiled

What did you do today?

You need a Helping Hand

There is never a moment where I’m ungrateful. To live your life you have to love, and to love you need a helping hand.

First chapter of the Helping hand

Many stories start happy then go bad then get happy again.  Well mine is different. My life was different.  When I was little I would lie in my bed and think hard about why I deserved such odds. It’s as if god had forgotten we were there; just put us aside so he could write a happy ending for everyone else. I’m not saying I was unhappy, but I had nothing and my family had nothing. It’s just I wasn’t a very good writer and trust me our story was my homework.

  The sun crept through the night sky, peering behind trees and mountains.  Everywhere it went it left a small ray of light. It snuck through the thick forest and the mountains. It followed a little brown bear up to the top of a tree and gave light to the world. 

The thick swamps, the green forest, the fresh air, and our log cabin nestled in the woods.  My name is Annie Drolinger and I live in Wisconsin. When I was born Ma wanted to move to the city, but Pa had grown up in this house and did not intend to leave it.  So we stayed. We rebuilt the roof and wooded the floor. Even though the house looked different it was still the same, and it held millions of stories and untold secrets.

Pa loved the old house and the land and since I was the only child I got to help Pa in the fields. I loved the sun beating down on my back, the sweat dripping down my face, and taking a cold bath in the creek afterwards.  But my life wasn’t even close to perfect:  my family was poor.  I mean I didn’t even have decent shoes. The people in the city did so why couldn’t I?  But no matter what, I loved Wisconsin and the rolling hills, thick forests, and the freedom.

But more than Wisconsin I loved stories.  I loved the good old tails of heroes and treasures, and boy did my Pa liked to tell them. My favorite is about Christopher Columbus, but Pa had his own twist. When Columbus came to America he left something, a treasure full of money and maps and all adventure stuff.  Many people have tried to find it but it’s stays hidden to this day. He says it’s here in Madison and when I was little I would ask him every day “Can we go out looking for Christopher Columbus’s treasure?” Pa would giggle and shake his head and say that he had to open shop or leave early.

But I knew it was out there because Pa told the story with such excitement he made me believe it. I would get so caught up in finding the treasure that I had to remind myself that it was just a story. As I got older the log cabin wasn’t big enough for all of us, evens stories didn’t calm me I felt like something bad was coming. 

I didn’t eat or sleep, I would lie in my bed for hours listening to a horned owl waiting for it to stop, but it never did. Each day our money box grew lighter, each day weighing less. Until one day it was empty. 

All of this fell through my mind like a flood. My stomach curled and I got up out of bed, and walked to the kitchen. I grabbed a glass of milk and sat down by the fire. The whispers of the city tiptoed through my house and it began to open my mind to a million different thoughts. The story of my life was unraveling.

Last snowfall

At the first snow fall

New hopes are born

Trees are up 

Wrapping paper is torn

You write a letter to that old Santa Clause

And hope for a bear with fuzzy paws

So many happy faces

And boxes covered in laces

All the lights

And a Christmas tree so tall

At the first snow fall 

I am

I am

Me,

My first loose tooth,

The day i  walked down the aisle at graduation!

Seeing, learning,  and doing

I had my first birthday,

And learned to walk, 

And to talk.

Then princesses were important to me

Now i want to buy the new i pod touch;

I hope i can remember all those years;

I know i can just forget but that wouldn’t be any fun

Remembering, memories, and me

This is me!

Me Bear

Chapter One

The first beams of sunlight tore through the mountains, and the kids in the city woke up for school. In their kitchen were glass bowls and cornmeal, and maybe even some orange juice. But I wasn’t in town; no I was far from town about forty miles away from it. I had woken up three hours ago and not to go to school but to work.

 I lumbered up and down the cornfields picking the few that had survived the winter, listening to the soft cry of a crow in the forest. The wintery air blowing against my face, throwing my red hair everywhere.

Pa hated me to where my hair down when I worked but I couldn’t help it when I put it up in a bun I just found its way out again.

I hauled the basket up to the barn and began to shuck each piece. Each cornel was different, one with more hairs, one with none, all of them seemed to be different. I peeled slower now each piece of corn that I shucked missed the bucket and after ten minutes I had only done four.

“Common Mary Lou” I said to myself “finish!”

All the corn was shucked in less than five minutes. I rushed past Ma and Phoebe on the porch to do my last chore but Mama stopped me.

“Can you take these buckets to the barn?” Ma’s voice croaked and squeaked. She was most likely sick again. “Sure Ma” I said.

I hopped up each step two at a time. When I reached Ma she was almost asleep.

“Is Ma sick again?” I asked as I took the buckets.  Phoebe glanced up at me and I could see that she had been up all last night. “Yes, she has the flu again.”

Phoebe’s head drooped just like Ma’s and I could tell she was asleep too.

The buckets were heavy but I could handle them, I was strong. I had beaten my brothers in arm wrestling plenty of times.  I galloped across the field to our old barn with a big smirk on my face. 

Don and Tommy were wrestling in the forest to my right. I glanced over at them and laughed . When would they grow up?

When I reached the barn the wind had picked up. I looked back. Don and Tommy were heading back inside and Phoebe was taking Ma inside.

I set down the milk and the cream on the bench, and sat down.

A huge limb of the tree outside tumbled to the ground with a loud crack. Maple practically jumped straight out of her stall. I threw my hand up trying calm her down but then came another loud crack. The buckets.

The milk and cream had fallen over into a bigger bucket.

My mind raced. We didn’t have enough money to replace that. Daisy only could be milked once a week.

Maple put her head down in her stall. As if she knew what I had done. I quickly picked up the milk and cream buckets and tossed them into the corner of the barn. That made Maple all riled up again. I picked up the bigger bucket with them both in it and rocked it back and forth making the two liquids mix.

The milk and cream slapped the side of the bucket like big waves in a storm.  Soon they were the same color, a light beige.

I set the bucket down. No one will know. I thought to myself. No one will ever know.

Maple slapped her main around trying to get my attention. When I finally turned around she was almost breaking the door of her stall open.

I got up and walked over to her. My hand traced her face. I brought my hand down to her back but before my hand reached her neck so that I could pull myself up, I froze.

There on her back was two huge bite marks. It looked like it had been made by a bear. I stared into Maple’s terrified eyes and followed them to the floor of the barn.

There on the floor were two sets of bear tracks. They came from the door to Maples stall then to the food room. I almost choked when I heard the noise and soft shatter of glass coming from the food room.

I threw myself on top of Maple and cantered out of the barn. I galloped her all the way to the house. We were going too fast to stop, so as we rode by I screamed.

“Pa there’s a bear in our food house!”

It took about twenty seconds for Pa and my brothers to be outside with their rifles loaded.

Pa ran down the porch steps with a ragged look on his face with Don and Tommy right behind him. I turned around Maple and cantered after them.

Pa and my brothers got to the barn before I did and the loud gun fight began. I tied Maple outside of the barn and hurried in with our mallet.

The bears were on their hind legs groaning at the guns. Blood coming from their wounds and their brown eyes searched for forgiveness. I couldn’t stand it!

I didn’t know what I had done until I was right in between the guns and the bears. Pa and  my brothers stopped shooting and the bears lay hopeless almost passed on.

“They’re hungry just like us!” I wailed at my Pa. “They’re sorry, let them go, don’t make them die.”

Pa’s voice was still crazed with anger. “Move aside Mary.” He said. His voice as flat as a still pound.

I put my feet apart and stood in a position that I was comfortable in. “Let them go!”

Now I was over by the first bear. His face was covered in blood, and his black chest was heaving. I patted his head and then stroked his ear.

Pa’s face was emotionless as he stared at me touching the bears. My brothers put their guns down and came to sit by the other bear.

They were dying. We couldn’t help them anymore.  I could see now that they hadn’t eaten any food they were carrying it. I buried my face into the bears’ neck. My hair now was covered in blood. Tears rolled down my face and I tried to let them die in peace so I held it in.

The bears eyes were now soft. He stared up at me and seemed to be pointing to the door. I strained my eyes through the mist of the morning and saw a small black object.

I stood up and walked over to the door the shadow winced but did not move away. As I came closer the black shadow turned into a baby bear. It huddled into the side of the door and its dark brown eyes were wet with tears.

Without any hesitation I picked him up. His claws stuck into my leg, but I knew he didn’t mean it. I set the cub down by its parents.

The baby black bear wobbled over to its mother and licked her face with his wet tongue. His tongue caressed every wound. He  lay silently over his mother.

I sat down next to the dying bear and the cub, and let out the tears. By now Pa was down next to the bear, too, and Ma and Phoebe were at the door.

The bear’s breaths were shorter and harder. It was losing too much blood.

The baby bear knew too. It took one last look at his mother and made a crying sound. The bear’s eyes glanced at the baby, the father, and then me. Her eyes were gone. The room fell silent . I stood up and the baby bear ran to me. I scooped it up and cradled it. Once again it stuck its claws into my leg. I winced, but was still numb from what I had just seen.

I held the baby close and it made another crying sound. My Ma was now beside me crying. I knew it wasn’t good for her to be crying or out in the cold, so I switched the baby bear to the other hip and helped Ma up. Tommy and Don were silent next to the other dead bear and Phoebe was still at the door of the barn. Pa still had his gun in his hand but he was calm. His eyes damp with tears.

We all walked back to the house in silence, Ma, Pa, Tommy, Don, Phoebe, and me and my bear.