Per9vignettes

Adalia

By Malorie Gershowitz I have been in Cleveland living on Gibb Street for almost 2 years drinking orange soda on the streets and having no where to go. I was sent to America when I was 16 from Inselfuer, Germany by my grandparents to live with my family. I had learned how to speak English, which was a challenge. I knew I would like America because it had a democratic government, so I would have more freedom. I also appreciated and liked the technology here.

When I arrived in Cleveland, I had already missed my family who lived in Germany and my friends too. In Cleveland I had nowhere to go. I also had no friends.

Back in Germany, I liked to plant and I liked to cook. Here it was like a dump. There were no gardens in sight or streets with not having any absurd things on them. All I saw was people beating each other on the streets and the tape where the police mark the persons death. When I arrived here, I was very surprised. I thought Cleveland was going to be a clean place with all sorts of nice people walking around. After newcomers walk out of the bus from wherever you came from, all the people who live on Gibb Street do is laugh, stare, and make jokes about your race. In Cleveland, I was probably one of the citizens who got a job and was not living on the streets. I was actually pretty successful.

I got a job, a car, and a place to live.

One day I was working at the grocery store wondering where all the stores

seeds had gone. I asked one of the workers at the register. He said that he had seen many of the same people buying them. The worker also mentioned that there was a garden. As I was thinking to myself, I had no idea why there would be one in this part of Cleveland.

The next day, I went to search for this garden. As I was walking and searching, I was being called by others saying, “What are you a seed folk searching for your one of a kind garden.” I just kept walking. Soon I saw a bunch of people digging in piles of garbage in a vacant lot. I somewhat paid attention to the people watching me walk through the lot like I did not look human. Behind all the garbage, I saw a garden with different kinds of fruits and vegetables. This was great. I loved to plant and cook, so now I could do what I did back in Germany.

I didn’t know who the leader or owner of the garden was. So, I asked this man named Sam and he said that the garden belongs to every one and I could plant here. I decided to plant cantaloupe. When I was younger, cantaloupe was my favorite fruit. I remember I was always asking for it.

The next day after I went to the garden, I went to the store and bought a pack of cantaloupe seeds to plant. As I was paying for the seeds, I heard my workers say that they were going to check out the garden. I asked them if they wanted to plant in the garden with me and they said yes.

After I was done planting my seeds, I was covered in dirt and garbage. I smelt like I came from a swimming pool of waste. That day at a garbage filled lot showed me that people have different personalities and when people say they can change, those people are not being told to, they are doing it themselves like how no one was told to plant in a dirty vacant lot with garbage all around, they just did it themselves. But

thankfully we all came together and turned a negative into a positive.

I love nature. The nature is always so calm.

It always makes me forget about bad things when I was a child. When I was a child in Russia, I was always the kid who got made fun of. I never got into any fights. But I never got along with people.

I decided to move to Cleveland once I learned English. I wanted a better life. I moved here because I had no friends or family in Russia. I am seventeen. So it is very hard for me to make friends. I was very lonely, but I didn't mind that very much. But it was also nice to hear someone’s voice once in a while.

When I was four years old, my dad died in a horrible car crash. I was in the car with him, but I didn’t get seriously hurt. I just had a broken arm. It felt like ages for my arm to heal. My mom just kept walking me through it and she helped me every step of the way. Ever since the accident, I have never went in a car. I have always been so scared because many horrible things can happen.

You see it all the time on the news that there is a car crash. When I was little, I used to have nightmares, and never sleep.

Now, I can handle it. It doesn't really bother me anymore, but I still have a phobia of cars. When I was eleven, my mom passed away due to cancer. I was devastated. I was very little, so I don't remember it as well as I used to. I was the last one in my family. I had no choice, but to move in with my Uncle, Mike. We did not really get along that

well. He was more into cars and technology. I did not like that stuff. I was so excited when I was old enough go move out.

I decided to move to Cleveland in a search for a better life. I wanted to make new friends and to try and forget all about what happen when I was little. That was all in the past, now, I am living in the present. I was looking into houses and apartments. I found this old abandon apartment very close to town. I decided to move into it. I bought more furniture and I re-did everything to make it look like a real apartment in the city. I wanted my apartment to look welcoming.

I was walking back from my apartment after going shopping for food. I noticed this beautiful garden with lots of people. It looked very nice and it looked like people put a lot of work and effort into this community garden. I decided to go home and put all of my things on the kitchen table, and then go back to check it out. My apartment was very close to the garden.

I decided to go back to the garden to get a closer look at the garden. I noticed that there were many beautiful flowers and a wide verity of fruits and vegetables. It was so colorful and peaceful in the community garden. Since I have always loved nature, I wanted to become a part of this garden. I decided to go to the store and buy some roses to put in the garden.

I was planting my roses when two girls came up to me and started talking to me.

Their names were Amber and Nadine. They seemed to be interested in the same things that I was. Ever since that day, they always come over to my apartment to talk with me. I finally fell like I had a place to live, where everyone was nice and caring to each other.

There was something about this garden that made me feel welcomed into this town. I have lived here a very long time. There was always something bad that happened in Cleveland. But just a month ago, things had gotten a lot better. I never knew why, but now I do. It was the garden. This garden is special, and I think that everyone knows that.

It has changed the behavior of this town.

Some things in life just aren’t fair. Especially when you are an only child and both of your parents died. Well that’s my story. When I was 9, my parents got into a horrible car crash. Ever since that happened I have moved into my grandparent’s apartment in Cleveland. It’s way different here than it was in Virginia but I still like it here.

I’m Sarah Brooke and I’m 13 years old. My life has definitely changed. I don’t have many friends and my new school is way easier in my opinion. My grandparents put me in a public school; meanwhile I went to private school back in Virginia. I have been going here for a while now. To get away from my school problems I tried to think of a

way to open myself up to my neighborhood. I asked my grandparents if they had any ideas. My grandma suggested that I should grow something. I always remember how my parents loved tomatoes so I finally got a great idea, I would grow tomatoes in my very own garden, but that was the other problem where would I grow them?

While I was walking home from school I saw my grandpa waving me to follow him. I ended up going to the local park. We found a great big open space to plant the tomatoes. I saw that he had brought tomato seeds and a rake. While he started to make holes in the ground I ran over to the market and got a pitcher of water. I have never spent alone time with my grandpa which was hard to believe because I lived with him, but it was true. I felt awkward but when I came back to the park he started to tell me stories of how he had a garden when he was little and how his dad showed him how to grow his own plants. I thought it was very sweet and I would remember this day forever. After all his stories and the planting we did, I felt like I had a family again. I couldn’t wait for tomorrow to come.

School is the worst part of the day. In lunch my friends went on an art field trip to an art museum for their class. Of course I wasn’t in their class and I had to sit alone. I heard the lunch monitor telling kids to go over to me and introduce themselves to make me feel welcome, but that didn’t happen. By the end of the day I was so relieved to leave.

I loved to walk home, some kids thought it was to dirty outside or disgusting to walk, but I liked walking by my garden. I felt like something inside of me opened up.

The next day my grandpa and I came back to the garden to see tiny sprouts come out of the ground, I couldn’t believe it, they started growing. We planted some more types of tomatoes, like grape tomatoes. It was such a tiring day for the both of us. I

couldn’t wait to go to bed. For the entire walk home we talked about how we could cook the tomatoes. I thought it was a pretty interesting conversation. When we got home I went straight to bed and I dreamed about tomorrow.

It was a week later and my tomatoes have grown. I picked them and washed them.

I felt so proud to grow something for once. I was excited to tell my friends what have happened but for now the tomatoes are my secret and so are the stories inside of them. So many things have happened really fast so far. I really opened up, and I feel like a totally new person. I don’t know how the tomatoes did it, but they changed my life and the way I think of things now.

J

By Jake Azus I stare at the wall everyday. Thinking should I have left my family back in Japan and just be alone by myself? I have a better life here, living in this apartment having everything that I wouldn’t back in Japan. This garden is very suspicious here; people crowd the lot everyday thinking what are they doing? The flowers that I see were very beautiful; one had a tint of green and a shade of purple. They hadn’t had any kinds of these flowers before, and it was my first time seeing these flowers it was very hard for me emigrating from Japan to the United States. First you have to learn the English for basically your everyday life. Then even harder by having to talk to people in English around me perfectly. When I try to walk on the sidewalks of Gibb Street, I wonder when people look at me, do they think I’m different or even someone who doesn’t know anything coming into the U.S. People also look at my face and eyes because I come from Japan, where the

people are much different from here in the U.S. In my culture we learn to visit the world and new places we don’t know of and learn new things like interacting with different kinds of people of different race and religion. Also to learn some new languages, like I’m learning that English language. I thought maybe if I walked around the town Gibb Street and meeting the people, I would get the hang of living here.

One day I had met this pretty girl named Sae Young, we both had something very in common, that we were both from Asia. It was also hard for her coming to the U.S. and meeting the people and learning the language. Sae Young had come over to me and explained how she got use to living in the United States. It was this garden apparently that had helped her, I thought “wow, could it do the same to me.” Sae Young decided to take me over to the community garden, but she had said that she had made a way for people to throw their garbage in the trashcan without it getting in the garden. Sae young had got funnels connecting to the garbage and going down without any problems to be solved. But I decided to do something different than do what she had done; I wanted to plant my own baby red peppers to remember that my parents are still living back in Japan. I would come down everyday of the week to check on my plants and to water them, also make sure that they are getting enough sunlight. This made me happy that I was finally getting the hang of living in the United States. Better yet I was making so many friends now because everyone was saying how beautiful my red peppers were with it’s very bright and shiny red. This was when I finally felt part of something: it was a community garden full of helpful and caring people.

I had come to the garden as usual checking on my plants, but something wasn’t right; the community had found garbage in the garden. We thought why would people want to do

this? My plants were destroyed. I decided for a meeting of all the people that had participated in the garden, to tell the public heath department that garbage people should not be allowed to litter in the garden. We all had protested outside the department door.

Finally they came out and heard us and decided to discuss what to do. We were all thinking would they shut us down or do something about this garbage in our community garden. After a few hours of waiting outside the committee of the health department had made a final decision. They had decided to pass a law that if you liter in the community garden you would be fined under the state of Cleveland. Everyone was so relieved from this decision, but there was one thing left to do; which was to fix our community garden and it’s plants. My peppers were very little damaged, so now I would have check on them and make sure they’re getting enough sunlight. But doing that job was very easy to do.

By the end of two days I was finished and also everyone else was finished, this was great for the community.

I felt like I was part of something finally, I was part of a community garden or some people even call it a family. This garden had helped me so much for getting use to living in the United States and learning the culture of an American everyday life. I also didn’t know how to thank Sae Young. She had helped me learn everything. Life now was much more easier with this garden being my whole life by living here in the U.S.

Gina By: Mary Reiser I wake up and once again my back hurts.

I’m 14, this shouldn’t be happening. Why am I forced to take care of my baby brother? Why does my mom have to have Cancer? Why did we have to leave my dad back in Italy? Why can no one answer my questions? I find

myself thinking about this every morning. I finally decide to get up and wake up James, who has been sad lately being he can’t see our mom everyday because of her chemotherapy. Today is Saturday so we get to go visit her today.

It’s hard having to take care of my brother alone. All I have is him and hope.

Hope that my mom will make it through. Hope that my Dad will come to America and not just stay in Italy. Hope that James will be able to make it through. Hope that everything will be all right. Hope is mostly what I have right now and I have to make it through with it.

I walk into James’s room and he is not in his bed. I walk into the kitchen and there he is sitting at the table all dressed and ready to go eating his cereal. I start to make myself eggs and make sure James is ready to go. I get all ready and eat my eggs and go get James. His room is a mess but that’s not new so I’ll fix it later. We walk to the hospital and get to my Mom’s room. The nurse tells us that we can’t stay to long but she’ll make sure we have enough time to see our Mom. When the nurse is taking James to the bathroom I asked my Mom “Mom how bad is your cancer?”

My Mom said “The doctors say it’s pretty bad, but I can make it through if I’m a fighter, so we both have to be fighters you and me.” I give my Mom the biggest hug I have ever given anyone.

After a couple minuets James comes back into the room and we act like nothing is wrong. We stayed for about 30 more minutes and than the nurse came in and told us we had to leave. We said good-bye to our Mom and as where leaving Our Mom said to me “Gina be a fighter just like I’m going to be.”

I gave my Mom a smile and ran down the hall to catch up with James. We start to walk home and I say, “Lets take the long way, down Gibb Street.” As were walking down Gibb Street I see all these people just standing on the sidewalk just watching. I say to James “lets go check it out.” We walk over and see that it’s a community garden.

When we lived in Italy I had a garden with all my favorite vegetables. James saw one of his friends helping their mom and I asked if James could stay with them until I got back and they said yes.

I quickly ran home to get cucumber seeds. They are my Moms and my favorite vegatables. I can grow them than give them to her. This is perfect because it will make her feel so much stronger.

I quickly ran back to the garden so I can get started on my project. I can’t wait.

This is great I can now make my mom feel so much better. I get started on digging and putting the seeds into the holes. A man named Wendale came up to me and told me to make a small circle around each of my plants. He said that it would help the plants take in more water.

A couple of weeks later the cucumbers started to get big enough to pick. I brought some home and had them for dinner that night. Even James said they were declivous.

One of the ladies who planted a kind of flower to make tea out of would always come up to me and ask how I was doing. She is a friend of my Mom so I guess that had something to do with it. One day I was talking to her about how my Mom was doing and she said to me “Ya know you really are a fighter and a good one at it.” After she said that I felt amazing that I am able to do something so hard that my Mom asked me to do.

The next day when James and I went to visit my Mom I brought some cucumbers

to give to my Mom and James brought of his friend’s Mom’s tomato’s. Both of us were so excited. We get to the hospital and quickly run up to our Mom’s room. Our Mom looked thrilled to see us. I say to our Mom, “Mom James and I joined a community garden! And I have been growing cucumbers and James has been growing tomatoes with his friend David and David’s Mom. And we brought you some of our vegetables.”

Our Mom said to us, “Those look great kids. I can’t wait to eat them I only wish I could join this garden.”

“Well maybe when you get out of the hospital you can!” I said. There was a small moment of silence, but it passed quickly. As always James has to go to the bathroom again so the nurse takes him. I asked my Mom, “Mom you will get out of the hospital soon right?”

My Mom answered with a simple answer saying, “I hope so.” The rest of the time until James came back in it was quiet.

That night I went to the garden just to see how my plants were doing. They were fine but I wasn’t. I walked around the garden looking at everyone’s plants I still didn’t feel right. I thought the garden was supose to help you and that’s when I realized it. It doesn’t matter what your problem is or how old you are or if you’re from another country. The garden helps everyone by giving them a place were there feeling can be let loose and that’s what it was doing for me.

When I got home that night the phone started ringing. I picked it up and the guy on the other end sounded so familiar. He said, “how you doing baby?” And at that moment I knew it was my father.

“Daddy I’ve missed you so much! When can you move to America?” I said.

He responded by saying “How about in 2 weeks?”

I screamed into the phone and said “Dad thank you! I can’t wait till then!” At that moment I knew my life was about to get a whole lot better and the garden would always be a place where I can always let out my feelings.

By: Jessica Leeb I love the outdoors. How the wind pushes up against my face.... it makes me feel like I'm in paradise. It makes me feel like I'm at home because I have no home. My parents are in the middle of their divorce and I have no place to stay. My grandma's house was an option but she smokes and she’s an alcoholic. My life is miserable. I have no family at all and I am a lonely child, no one to look up to or to talk to about my problems. I am 13 years old and clueless. I'm from Colombia, I immigrated here when I was 7 years old and now I am living on Gibb Street. Gibb Street is a place where you don't usually see people socialize, smile, laugh or really any good things that make people happy.

I don't have many friends because I'm poor. In my school you either fit in because your rich or you don't like me because you're poor. I sleep in an old dusty shed full of spiders and other gross bugs. I sleep on the cold hard wooden floor with only a ripped up blanket I fought for with a dog. I guess that's why people don't like me. My life is difficult. It's really hard to walk through the hallways while you know people are talking about you and/or spreading rumors. Not having a mother that is there for me really affects my life.

I just found out that I'm getting kicked out of school. Apparently my parents don't have the money. As I was walking home from school surprisingly I saw a bunch of people gathered around something that looked like a garden. People were smiling, laughing and even socializing I was shocked! I guess Gibb was on the top of the list for a change. Of course I wanted to be apart of this happiness so I walked over to find people were making a garden. To plant fruit, flowers and many other things that could bring people together.

As I walked over I came to find this girl named Lizzie that I often see in the garden. She was smiling and laughing with this guy that lives in the apartment building across the street from my house.... the shed. I decided that I needed some happiness in my life because this was probably the only chance I would get. I squeezed my little head into the crowd to find out what they were talking about. I tried to make people laugh because that was my way of saying lets be friends. I guess that was Lizzie's way to because I was laughing up a storm.

Lizzie seemed like one of those nice girls, not the kind that only cares about money. As I was waiting patiently Lizzie finally asked me what my name was, I

answered proudly "Jolie...yeah just Jolie". She then asked me what my last name was but I told her I wasn't sure because I didn't know if I was talking my mom or my dads last name. I can tell that she was not like others because she didn't laugh at me after I told her my parents were getting a divorce, surprisingly she was sad for me. She made me feel great. From that point on Lizzie and I were great friends. We would hang out and laugh with each other almost all the time. Also she was like me; she didn't have a home either.

Who knew that gardens really bring people together?

Today is the first day of no school. I don't really know what to do because I usually wake up go to school, come home, see Lizzie and then go to bed. People were staring at me as if I had three heads. I'm not really sure why, maybe it's because I'm thirteen living on the streets without a family and I'm not going to school, but I don't know. I was walking around the garden to find that the people were growing food, food you can eat! I got so excited I was practically jumping out of my shoes, well socks. I decided that very day that I was going to grow something in the garden. I decided I was going to grow tomatoes. But the only problem was that well, I have no money. That's when my face turned from a smile to a frown. The only idea that came to mind was to start a one-person band, but I had another problem.... an instrument. My voice! That's when my frown turned back into a smile.

I was so excited that I started singing on the streets for money two hours later.

That day I finished with about five dollars. That night when I went to bed I thought to myself "Jolie you can succeed and you will." That very next day I woke up with a smile and confidence. I started early that morning with my singing. My goal was to buy twenty packs of tomato seeds. That means I needed about fifteen more dollars.

As I singing on the street I saw this very familiar women pass by. She looked like my mom. I strangely looked at her until she was out of sight. She turned around and said "Jolie" in a questioning tone. I glanced at her and said "Mom" in a questioning tone.

Believe it or not she was my mom, my biological mom, the person who gave birth to me for g-d sakes! I was so surprised and a little bit relieved. My mom told me all about the divorce and all the details I needed to know. She apologized to me about everything about one hundred times. I said I forgave her but I wasn't going to leave with her. She did too much damage to my life that I was going to let her just walk away with me from an "I'm sorry Jolie." I don't think so.

I know I did a stupid thing by letting her just walk away but I think she deserves it because my motto is and always will be "You can overcome anything if you put your heart and soul into it."

Kick Buttowski

By Yanni Agrotis Gee, here I am, in America. 11 years old in Cleveland. I am really happy my family immigrated from Germany because America is awesome. I am a

skating fanatic and America has many opportunities for skateboarding. Every day, me and my best buddy Gunther go to a huge ramp everyday after school that we built from the base of a old house down the street from my place.

Gunther’s family is from Scandinavia, home of the Vikings and dragons. So Gunther and me talk about how America has brought many great things for us to do every now and then, in Germany all we did was sit in the park all day- my parents do not believe in watching TV because they think it will turn you into a “vegetable.”

But this week I was not skating- I was helping Gunther and his parents get their business back, their restaurant, Battle Snacks, is not doing so hot. So I helped him- I went around town and got all the people mad by ruining their day- soon an angry mob was chasing me- but no worries- I was headed to Battle Snacks to feed all those people.

Gunther was in there with a hot bowl of soup and a fan, so when those people I, uh, tracked down came he would place the bowl of soup in front of the fan and blow it so when they came crashing through they would smell the food and eat at the restaurant- it was risky, but hey, I'm a daredevil. But on my way I passed a garden that smelled of all vegetables, carrots, lettuce, goldenrod, you name it. I wanted to go in but I had a job to do--get the Battle Snack's business back. I guess I can come tomorrow come tomorrow.

Okay, its 5:45 AM and still dark, I was on my was to the garden and suddenly I heard some noises from around the corner, seems it was coming from the apartment, but

is wasn't. I tip-toed to the corner, and just about 10 feet away from me, two men were having a bloody fist fight! I hopped on my skateboard and flew right by them-- I guess they were too wrapped up in their little brawl over there to care. At least that's what I thought, but as I turned around, those to goons were about 3 feet behind me and gaining!

I hooked a sign and sped away. The thugs, exhausted, walked back to their corner-still punching and kicking each other! But finally I made it to the garden! I wonder why those two men were fighting. Money? Love? Whatever! It was still dark, so I camped out on some old bed-- it wasn't great, but I'm no girl. I quickly dozed off.

When I woke up it was 9:00! I'm just glad mom thought I was at school. I peered inside and I gazed down on some little Chinese girl working on some lima beans. I skated around to the entrance and walked over to some shaggy guy who looked like he was in charge. He said his name was Sam. We chatted and then he asked me why I wasn't in school. I panicked, but then I saw Gunther walking his pet dog, Thor. Then it hit me! We had off today because of a teacher's meeting, so I guess mom thinks I'm out frolicking or something. Sam was still waiting for my response, I was about to tell him the teachers had a meeting, but as soon as I opened my mouth, some black girl ran up to Sam and whispered something into his ear.

"Okay Leona", he said quietly,"I'll tell him."

Sam walked over to a bag and took out a little clipboard, wrote my name down and said:

"Choose a vegetable."

He held out some Burpee seeds in his hand and I picked the peas, they are just the cutest little things ever. Then, as if on cue, Gunther came over to the gate and asked what I was up to. After I told him about it, he chose the Onions, because he said his dad needed some Onions for his "Viking Stew." While Gunther and I started our new hobby, the school bully, Francis, rode by on his bike and and laughed. ''Dill Weeds!" He screamed.

Sam looked up and yelled back," Wanna plant some?" Gunther and I cracked up!

Then, at 2:00, disaster struck. ME and Gunther were planting and tending to our plants and a white, scruffy guy came over to the garden fence and yelled,"We got to get out of here, there is a forest fire down at the end of Catnip Drive!" I knew I smelled something, but I am surprised that Gunther didn't smell it, he's like a shark, but all mushy and tame.

The whole garden was like a madhouse! People grabbing water buckets, people kneeling on the ground, praying the forest fire would go out. Just as I hopped on my skateboard with Gunther on my back, veering between plants, my phone rang! It was mom. I opened it and all I heard was, "krrrrzzzz....Kick....me....okay?" Then we got disconnected.

Gunther was crying, he was about to say something, but when he opened his mouth, a raindrop fell onto his tongue...it was raining! We scrambled to catch up to some guy in an old taxi, which was filled with people. The taxi made a left turn so we followed.

Around the corner, what I saw put a huge smile on my face- everybody including me and Gunther's parents, were under a huge awning over my favorite restaurant, Nunzio's Pizza

Town. Gunther got off his board and ran to his parents. I did the same. We had just finished hugging and, out of nowhere, a police car, followed by to fire trucks and an ambulance darted down the road and looked like they were driving to where I could see thick, black smoke bellowing over the street. Pretty soon after that some extinguisher planes zoomed over our heads. I didn't know we had all this stuff in Cleveland! But then I remembered.. where was my baby sister, Bryanna?! Then another ambulance came past and skidded to a halt, the paramedic opened the window, took out a bull horn and yelled, "Any of you know a...Byranna Buttowski?" Shoot, I just remembered Bryanna's daycare center is on Catnip Drive! Me and my parents told the paramedic, and we hitched a ride in the back of the ambulance. When I got there I saw that the fire was out, but the daycare center didn't look to good. My parents sprinted out of the ambulance and stopped in front of the burned door. But I saw a little girl on a stretcher... was wearing the same thing Bryanna was! It was Bryanna! I yelled to my parents, they turned around and pointed to the stretcher. They burst out crying.

That next morning we were at the funeral home. Bryanna had died of suffocation. We were going to have the awakening next Thursday, but I had other plans. The day before I asked the little Chinese girl why she was planting lima beans for her father. So maybe I can plant the peas for her, they were her favorite vegetable.

After we got home, I told mom about the garden and asked her if I could go. She said she didn't really care. At the garden, everything seemed as nothing happened last night. I

told Sam and told him what happened, he almost cried. Then I asked him if I could bury my sister under the garden. He thought about it for a minute, then said yes. Then I asked mom if I could bury her. She seemed pretty okay with the idea, since I go to the garden every day.

The next day my family and Gunther's family came to the garden to bury her, she was wrapped in a shroud but I still put on gloves. Then, I planted for the rest of the day. I planted for my family, I planted for Bryanna.

By: Kristen Renter In France, I loved water. But once I immigrated to the U.S, the fear came onto me. I am afraid of water now; swimming in it even scares me, don't like drinking it- just afraid.

I don't have many friends; people think I am weird because I live in a small, abandoned hospital. It isn't comfortable; it's just a few tables and some dusty beds that I sleep on. I am the oldest of 7 children. I

never got attention- I just gave attention. I have 3 little brothers and 3 younger sisters. I never got treated the way a child should get treated, which made my life... not so fun. My babysitter was living with me and my siblings for 8 years, until she abandoned us 3 years ago. Ever since then, I have been taking care of my siblings on my own.

I go to a small school. It is a 3 hour train ride every day, but I do it anyway- I really wanna become a teacher, so I needa get an education. When I was younger, that's what my babysitter always told me- an education is the most important thing you can have. So I followed that goal.

When I was walking to the train station I saw many people gathered around something.

It was colorful and beautiful- something we don't normally see on Gibb Street. It got me very interested. So the next day I went back to the garden. I wanted to do something special for my parents since they died- when I was 7 years old, my parents went on a canoe in Lake Erie for vacation. I stayed home with my babysitter. They were supposed to come home in 1 week, but they never did. They never came home. My parents drown in the lake when their canoe tipped over. Ever since that day, I have been afraid of water.

Just drinking water scared me. Now, I am a 15 year old girl from France with no where to go. I wanted to plant something in the garden for them. I was little when they died, but I remember that they liked strawberries. They said that they were very healthy and delicious. I didn't really like strawberries, but they did so I started to eat them in their memory. I bought some strawberry seeds and planted the strawberries in the garden for them.

I had school vacation for the week so the same night, I went back to the garden to check on the strawberries- it was about 11 o'clock at night. When I turned around, from

the corner of my eye, I saw a silhouette of a tall woman. If she had been to the garden before, I definitely would've seen her around! I couldn't believe my eyes. I hid behind a small grocery store that was right next to the garden, to spy on her. She walked toward my strawberries, which made me nervous. She picked one and munched on it. Without even realizing, I jumped at her and knocked her on the ground! I looked down at her facemy heart almost stopped! It was...

It was... my old babysitter! Oh my goodness! I was in shock! I couldn't believe she was back, here in Cleveland! "Hannah? Is that you?" I asked.

"Yes, this is Hannah. Who are you?" Hannah answered. I told her it was me, Lacey. I asked her why she was here in garden. She told me that a year after she abandoned us, she became homeless and broke. So she moved back to Cleveland and came to the garden late at night to get food. I thought to myself, what a coincidence that she found my strawberries that I planted for my parents.

After we discussed everything, we decided on a plan. She was going to move back into our "house", but help us fix it up to make it more comfortable. So that's what we did. It was about 11:30 pm when we got home. We both went to sleep. We were so exhausted!

The next morning, I woke up all of my brothers and sisters, and they surprisingly all remembered Hannah! I told them that we were going to make the hospital more comfortable, and they all wanted to help. So we went to a junk yard that's across from the garden to get supplies. The first thing I saw was an old mattress, so I picked it up and put it in a small pile. We found many more mattresses- one for each person. Then we found old mops. So we rinsed them, and used them to clean everywhere. We got a lot of other things in the junk yard for the house. At the end of the day, it was much more

comfortable than before. That was one of the best days ever.

The day after that, we went back to the garden in the afternoon. Hannah said that we could take turns watching the strawberries 'cause we didn't want anyone taking them. But then we came across a problem- the hose that led to my plants, broke. A dog ate the wire!

Now we had no way of getting water to our strawberries and they could die. Hannah thought of an idea. Someone would have to climb under this fence that led to a river, fill a bucket with water, then bring it back to water the plants. I thought that was a good ideauntil Hannah told me that I had to do it because I was the smallest. I was the only one that could fit under the fence.

Once Hannah said this, my stomach got all tingly. I really didn't want to do it! I told her that I was afraid of water, but she said I had to do it- for the plants, for my parents.

That really inspired me. Since Hannah said that, I wanted to do this. I wanted to overcome this fear for my parents. So they sent me off- under the fence. I wanted to turn back, but I knew I couldn't. Each time I wanted to give up I said to myself, do it for mom and dad! Overcome your fear! I just kept saying that in my head. It really worked because by the time I looked up, I was watering the plants with Hannah.

This day was probably the best day ever! I over came my fear, and connected to my parents. This day is unforgettable, and now I know I can trust myself and face my fear of water.

By: Melissa Carfagno I blame my Grandma for the suffering I have gone through for the past years.

I don’t think I could ever forgive her.

I am from Bogotá, Colombia. I’ve lived there ever since I was two. Then my parents divorced and my mom needed a job so we moved to the U.S. That’s how I came to live here in Cleveland. I don’t like it here much though. It’s not like home. I can’t even remember Colombia nor do I care. My dad isn’t here, but I know that if he wanted to see me and he wanted to be here he would be here. So whenever I think about him I don’t like him very much. I enjoy my time with my mom though. I try to make the best of it. I also have a grandma here. I don’t get along with her all the time. I hate when I have to spend time with her. I blame my grandma for the suffering I have gone through for the past years. I don’t think I could ever forgive her. My parents would always tell me that it hadn’t been her fault that they just weren’t meant for each other. To me, I always thought the reason was how they were going to get the money to support my Grandma in hospice.

She had gotten diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. I know its hard for me to blame her, she didn’t purposely mean to get Alzheimer’s. I guess maybe I thought sometimes that it was my fault. I would always think that and then blame it on my grandma to make me feel better. All I’m saying is that it’s hard when your parents are divorced and you don’t know who you are anymore.

Since my grandma has gotten diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, I have been trying to hang out. Knowing that she will forget me soon is kind of sad. She also said that she is going to teach me about my culture. Not that I care. Every time I’m with her I try to tell myself to forgive her, but then I give myself a reason not to. The other days made me think that maybe I might actually like spending time with my grandma. Yesterday I was taking my grandma out pushing her wheel chair and we passed by a community garden.

She had told me how she used to have one when she was little back in Colombia. She

immediately wanted to join and me to help her. Automatically I had no choice so we got a nice place to plant. It was 5 feet by 5 feet. It was small, but it would work, we then went of to the supermarket to buy some seeds. I was thinking of growing some tomatoes, but she had her own plans. She grabbed about five packs of potato seeds and six packs of corn seeds. She then told me of her plans to teach me about my culture by having us bond and make chicken, corn, and potato stew. It seemed pretty exciting. The first day we planned on planting the corn first. The next day we planted potatoes. We cared about these plants very much like they were our own children.

Everyday we came to water them and everyday we would sit and talk. She would tell me about her childhood and my culture. I started learning more and more everyday. I even started to learn about a little bit of my culture. My grandma told me about her plan to make ajiaco. It is a traditional Andean dish that originated from Bogotá. Basically it’s a chicken, corn, and potato stew with a hint of guasca, a local herb. It sounds very delicious!

My grandma said that the plants are almost done. My mom also has told me that it’s not long until my grandma starts to lose most of her memory. I’m getting worried and hope that she will at least remember a little for our big ajiaco stew feast. She has already forgotten most of her life except my name, my family’s name, and the fact that I had still not forgiven her. This still bothered her.

Today we will be eating and making the ajiaco stew. I can’t wait! While we were making the stew I decided to accept her apology and apologize for the rudeness for the past years. She easily forgave me and I, in a way forgave her. We were then able to eat the stew in happiness. I was proud of my grandma and I for the progress and dedication

we put into this project.

Today, I got a sad call from my grandpa. He had said that her memory was totally gone. When I came to visit her she didn’t know who I was. But I know deep in her heart she still remembers me, and I’m glad that I forgave her. This garden brought us together and I will never forget the times in the garden I had with her. And I’m glad that her latest memories were with me, her granddaughter.

MIGUEL

By Michael Criswell Family. You want them to be on your side every single minute of the day. As a Spaniard, I have learned that there is nothing more valuable then your family. Not even more than 800,000 Euros. My family extends beyond my parents to many generations of aunts, uncles and cousins. No one ever left our village until my cousin Royce and his

parents moved to Cleveland, Ohio. Over the past three years, Royce and I wrote letters to each other to stay in touch. All I know is that I missed him so much.

Recently, Royce wrote me a letter to come and spend a few weeks with him this summer, when we are both off from school. Royce said I would love the United States.

When I came to America, I had no expectation other than to see my amigo. To be reunited with him and relive the fun and good times we shared growing up together in Spain. Playing soccer, kicking the ball until it was too dark to see and then going inside to plan how we were going to win the next soccer game; or racing each other to the market when we wanted candy or ice cream.

Good times and great memories....

Finally, I arrived in Cleveland. As I was getting out of a cab on Gibbs Street, I was feeling nervous. Will Royce ever be friends with me again; we now live in two different worlds? As I was walking toward the building with Royce’s address on it, I was daydreaming. Taking deep breaths and inhaling pure American air. The tall buildings and bright sky were the only sight seen by this newcomer. Then, I saw a tall stranger with a hood. As he turned, I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was him. Royce. Living from two worlds and is my long, lost cousin. We both stared at each other in surprise, and then we hugged each other. Before I knew it we were high-fiving each other like the good old days.

Royce started talking quickly in English. I reminded him to slow down, my English was not as good as his. Then we started laughing at each other.

He brought me to the apartment where he lived with his family. It was much smaller than I imagined and very different from the village where we both lived in Spain. But this was a city, and we grew up in the country.

Royce explained that he had made some new friends. And he was very excited about his new job. He was a protector of tomato plants for a guy named Curtis. Royce was very excited to show me the garden where he protected Curtis’ tomato plants. The garden, it too was small, but it was a world of its own.

A small piece of paradise tucked between the tall buildings, surrounded by windows. A lot of tiny windows.

One day during my visit, I asked if I could help by protecting the tomato plants for one night. Royce said, “Only if you can guard the plants as if they were your family’s own crops.” I didn’t understand the reason he needs to protect these plants. But I promised I would treat the plants as if they were crops from my own family’s fields.

The night I was guarding the tomatoes was quiet and peaceful. No sounds at all, nothing but the sound of my own breathes. Later, a few people arrive and start digging up something in the far west corner of the garden. I was about to kick them out, but I saw a child. It was a beautiful baby like me. A baby with a bright light. I had some tears in my eyes as I remembered what I promised to Royce about protecting my family, but I think I broke my promise it. My family in Spain is protected their selves now. So, my family is here now, and I am much younger than all the other seedlings.

Najika By: Kimberly Chan I have this locket from my parents. I never seem to take it off ever since my parents gave it to me. It’s been a few years now and I have lived in Cleveland for a few months now and I still don't have any friends. My mom and my dad died in an accident on their way to a cooking competition since they were famous pastry chefs. I was the only one who survived the accident when I was really little, and I lived in an orphanage after that. I was really sad, when I was in the orphanage I didn’t eat anything, all I did was sit in my bed and stare out the window. When I finally got out of bed, I would go outside. When I was walking I would cry since my parents died, I cried everyday and the caretaker would always hug me whenever I cried. I’m 19 now and I moved here 10 months ago from Hokkaido. I miss my home country and my parents and the orphanage, especially the caretaker there. She was there for me and all the other orphans no matter what. I don't have much memory of my parents but at least I have a picture of them that I keep on my dresser. The locket that I have also has a key on the locket to my music box from my parents.

After school I was walking home alone -like usual- and I saw this girl ahead of me and she looked familiar to me. She then turned her head to the side and I saw it was a girl from my school, I ran up to talk to her, I introduced myself to her and she introduced herself and she told me about her family and how she was planting lima beans in a vacant lot. When she told me that her father died before she was born I felt sad that she never met her father and didn't have any memorys of him. The next day, which was Saturday, I was walking around the block and when I was about to turn onto Gibb Street, I heard laughter, cheerful laughter from the vacant lot. I was wondering to myself “why are there so many people laughing cheerfully in the vacant lot?” and I got so curious that I went over to the vacant lot to see what was going on. When I was half way there I saw why. It was a community garden!

There were so many people talking and planting and helping each other out. The garden was very pretty, there were so many flowers and vegetables and the garden was full of color. It was so pretty that I went in to take a closer look at them, when I was watching them I felt like planting myself after seeing people planting and helping each other. While I was looking at the flower and the people I saw Kim by her lima beans, I saw that the beans sprouted. I went to talk to her, she was my only friend but I know I’ll get more friends later, but it was great to have someone to talk too. On Monday, I met two new friends their names were Sora and Daichi Kitazawa. They are really nice. I went back to the garden to see what other plants they had planted and I saw my friends there, I went over to see what they were doing. I saw that they were planting lily’s, I thought to myself “Why are they planting lily’s?” I asked them “Why are you planting lily’s?”

Daichi replied “ oh hi. Were planting lily’s for our father, it’s his birthday soon and his favorite flower is lily.” “oh, well I’ll help you guys.” I said.

The next day, after I helped plant the lily’s yesterday I wanted to plant too. I wanted to plant roses, lily’s, hibiscus, begonia, and carnation. I wanted to plant these flowers because in the background of the photo of my parents I saw a vase full of roses, lily’s, hibiscus, begonia and carnation, and I thought maybe those were my parents

favorite flowers and I want to plant these flowers just for them. So I went to the community garden after I went to buy the seeds and while I was planting them some people I didn't know came over and helped me. I was really happy when they were helping me plant, it was also really fun too. We were having so much fun planting and we talked, I thought to myself "wow they are very helpful, without this they probably wouldn't even talk to each other. I wonder why, but at least I'm having fun planting with them. Its also relaxing from all the homework." After we finished I saw Daichi, Sora, and Kim crossing the street to the community garden. I ran to them and told them how fun it was to planting, I even told them that I planted some flowers myself. We were talking about the community garden and how people wouldn't have talked to each other without the garden. It was thanks to Kim for starting it by planting lima beans to show her father that she was his daughter. Day after day I go to the community garden to water and see how my plants were doing, no matter what the weather is, because I planted these for my parents. I would also go check on Daichi's and Sora's lily's and Kim's lima beans on rainy days since I'm there to check on my plants. All of them were looking great.

One day, when I went to check on it I saw that the flowers I planted had finally bloomed, they were really beautiful and full of colors.It also smelled really good. I plucked them and put them in a vase and putted it near my dresser. They were really beautiful and there were so many in the vase that it made the room smelled like flowers. I never really realized that planting would be so fun and relaxing. It was great to plant, and I loved it.

Paula

By Justin Estreicher When you immigrate to the United States, you

obviously are leaving your home. But some people have the ability to keep a little piece of their home country, an ability I envy in my old age. Here I am, seventy-five years old, out of touch with my old life, and feeling a little like each day passes without purpose.

When I was seven years old, my family and I came to New York City. At first, I couldn’t speak a word of English and felt like a complete outsider. But I learned my English, got a high school education, got married, and had three kids. When I was thirty, we picked up and moved to Cleveland because my husband got a new job. Those were the exciting days of my life, when every experience was an adventure. But those days are over.

As a mother, I was often the only parent in the household. I had few jobs in my life, all of which were small, like jobs in factories or fast food places. My husband worked two jobs that paid too little for his effort, and even took night classes at a community college. Now the nest is empty. The kids are all grown up and have children of their own.

But after my children were gone, I still had my culture. I was still able to take trips to Germany to visit family there. And when I couldn’t work in a vacation abroad, I could still go to New York, return to the German community where I grew up, go to the Plattdeutsche Volkfest, a German picnic I’d attend every year, and watch the Steuben Day Parade. Now my body is too slow and weak to do these things as often as I’d like to.

I fear that I may never be able to return to Germany in the years I have left. Nothing has depressed me more. It seems that I am at war with my body. It wants me to lose the last spark I had in my life. Unfortunately, my body is better armed than I am. Pains, illnesses. My body never ceases to throw them at me.

But one day, an opportunity to turn this around surfaced. My husband and I were driving back from lunch with my daughter, who was in town with her family. We made a turn onto Gibb Street and passed by the old vacant lot. In the past, seeing that place stacked high with trash was just another sad part of my life. But that afternoon, I saw how much that lot had changed. The ground, the walls, everything was covered in a blanket of green leaves and beautiful flowers. Suddenly, I thought of the farm I lived on in Germany, and I realized how I could bring a little piece of home to this neighborhood of mixed races that didn’t resemble Germany at all.

Over supper that night, I said to my husband, “Frank, you remember those gardens people were growing in the lot, right? Well, I was thinking that perhaps we could plant something out there.”

“Paula,” he said without lifting his head from his food, “don’t we have enough plants here in the apartment?”

I looked at the wilted flowers in a pot on the corner table, the only green in our home. Then I spotted the carrots on Frank’s plate, which were disappearing faster than any other part of the meal, and I got another idea. I knew I would need Frank’s help to grow a garden because I wouldn’t be strong enough to tend it myself. But he wasn’t German and didn’t know how I felt. I knew then how I could convince Frank to lend some assistance.

“What if we grew carrots?” I asked.

“Carrots?” he said. I could see that I’d gotten his attention. It was all in his eyes.

He was thinking about eating his favorite vegetable, homegrown and delicious. “Well, I suppose we could grow some carrots down there,” he added, trying to conceal his

enthusiasm. “How hard could it be?”

“Oh, wonderful!” I exclaimed, unable to hide my own excitement.

The next day, Frank bought some carrot seeds and planted them in a clear patch of soil I picked out in the garden. We promised each other that this would be a project we’d work on together, meaning we both would have certain roles in caring for the carrots.

And so we settled into a routine. Every day, I would fill up a big jug with water. Frank would bring it around the corner to Gibb Street and water the seeds. And I’d always be waiting for him when he came back with a nice cold glass of iced tea. I felt like a farm girl again. And I think Frank enjoyed this system as much as I did because it gave his retirement a purpose. Even after bringing down jugs of water became unnecessary because the gardeners began collecting water in garbage cans in the lot that everyone could use, Frank still happily helped me raise those carrots.

Sometimes, I would go down to the garden with Frank and try to provide valuable assistance, but I couldn’t do much without feeling pains. But while I was there, I’d take a look around at the other gardeners in the lot, and even start up conversations from time to time. It was amazing – people of all colors from all over enjoyed themselves peacefully in the same place and everyone got along like best pals. A good number of them couldn’t even speak English, but nobody laughed like they would before the garden. Very different from when I first came to America and the other children made fun of me because I only spoke German.

When I spoke to the other gardeners, or tried to speak with those who didn’t know English, I discovered that many of us were there for the same purpose. We just wanted to remember our old lifestyles from our home countries. This was true with nobody more

than the old Guatemalan man in the straw hat. One afternoon, he tried to show Frank a more efficient way to water, but had trouble communicating because he spoke a foreign language. Frank still managed to understand, and changed his method.

After the man walked away, his great-nephew walked over and said, “Sorry if you didn’t understand him. My Tío Juan’s only trying to help. You see, he was a farmer back home and he knows a lot about growing food.”

“Oh, no,” I said to the boy, “he was no trouble at all. In fact, I think he will actually turn out to be a great helper.” I then had a long talk with the child, who told me his name was Gonzalo. I told him that I must have had a lot in common with his great-uncle.

I explained that I lived on a farm for the first seven years of my life, but I had forgotten everything about planting, raising, and harvesting plants.

After that conversation, I looked around at everyone’s gardens and began to wonder why our neighborhood of mixed races had to stop us from staying in touch with our cultures without traveling. In one garden, I saw a slice of Haiti, and in another, a slice of Korea. And in mine, I knew, I would soon see a little slice of Germany. Nothing could make me happier.

The routine Frank and I had of watering and caring for the seeds remained unbroken until one morning when I pulled on my shoes and waited for Frank to join me on a trip down to the garden. He walked out of the bedroom after getting dressed for the day, said goodbye, and was about to walk out the door.

“Why goodbye?” I asked him. “I thought we were going to water the seeds before going to brunch with the kids.”

“Well, Paula, I have to make a quick trip to the bank,” Frank said. “Could you try

to do it without me?”

“I suppose I could,” I told him. Then he walked out. I followed with the empty jug to fill down at the garden.

That was the first time I stepped into the lot without Frank. Still, I treated it as any normal day and filled up my jug at the trashcan. Then Gonzalo said from behind me, “Mrs. Paula, did you see it yet?”

As I turned, I asked, “Did I see what?”

He smiled and said, “Oh, I probably shouldn’t spoil it. Just go to your garden.”

I moved as quickly as I could. A strange feeling of excitement mixed with fear filled me to the brim. But then I saw it, the little piece of green sticking out of the soil.

I closed my eyes and a joyful tear rolled down my cheek. I nearly dropped my jug as all thoughts left my mind. All thoughts but one, a single word – home. That word, the goal of my garden, had not been so prevalent among my thoughts in sixty-eight years.

I had forgotten how perfect it was to feel like you’re where you are supposed to be. At that moment, I remembered.

I opened my eyes and looked down at my little plant. It would soon be one of many, I hoped, because I didn’t want to forget how I felt in that wonderful moment, how beautiful that one word was.

Home.

My New Life

By Josh Frank I looked up and saw a massive wave of water heading towards me. My heart was pounding so hard it was like a rock was hitting my chest. All of a sudden, it was a blur.

At the time I was sweeping the front of our family’s store. We lived and worked in a small village in Indonesia that was located a few blocks from the ocean. The small village was called Banda Aceh. I saw very dirty water carrying parts of houses, debris, cars, and people. It was devastating to see our city perish by a wall of water.

My name is Rahaya. I was born in Indonesia in 1993. There is nothing good that I can say about my life. A huge tsunami hit my native country in 2004 when I was 11 years old. That’s when my life permanently changed. I had a mother, father, and a younger brother, but in the tragic disaster, I was left with only my brother and mother. I felt completely lost inside, losing my photographs and especially my dad. Empty and depressed, my family was rescued by the Red Cross. We were one of the fortunate families, because we were given a chance to start our lives over in America. It was really hard leaving Indonesia because I would miss my relatives that lived here. My family desperately needed better opportunities though.

When I arrived in Cleveland from my first flight ever, I noticed the differences between Ohio and Indonesia right when I got off the plane. The climate was cooler than Indonesia and there were fewer trees than back home. However, there was much more cement in Cleveland than in Indonesia. The apartment that the Red Cross set up for us was like a palace to me. In the living room, they had a TV and very comfortable couches.

Also, my bedroom was very nice. It had beautiful pictures and a very cozy bed although I still get homesick at night. In the kitchen, there were appliances that we never had in Indonesia, such as a big refrigerator, a nice stove, and a dishwasher. There were more cabinets than my family would never have dreamed of having.

When I moved to Cleveland, I obviously needed to start school again. The school was much bigger than my school in Indonesia. Also, there were different kinds of people there, not just on the outside, but also on the inside too. In my school in Indonesia, people were kind to you and also helpful. Here, people didn’t respect me because I’m from another country. I saw them whispering to each other, and staring at me while doing so. I

was very uncomfortable being alone and not being with my friends. One day, fortunately, a kid asked me if I wanted to sit next to him during lunch. I said “sure,” and then we started talking about different things.

One day after school, I was walking home, when out of the corner of my eye, I saw a garden. In Indonesia, I had a garden, but it was nowhere near the size of this one. I walked up to it and went inside the gates that surrounded it. There were a lot of people that were close together discussing how to irrigate water into the garden. Now I realized that this was a community garden. I quickly ran to the people who were talking and discussing the garden. They got up though, and went away the second I reached them. I followed them and introduced myself anyway. After I introduced myself, they seemed to be more comfortable around me. They showed me around the garden first. It was a very beautiful sight to be around a garden again, having been away from my home garden for so long. After they showed me around, we started to plant. I planted cabbage. I chose this because when I was a young boy in Indonesia, I planted cabbage at home with my dad’s help. I planted it in memory of my always-loved dad, and for my native country.

After I planted the cabbage that day, I came back to the garden as often as I could.

After school, I would rush to see my friends from the garden, and I quickly became a part of the community. It felt so good to become a helpful part of the garden and to learn that people are nice here and that it just takes some time for a new place to become home.

Even though I miss my friends and family in Indonesia, I know that I will grow to love my new home.

Reginald

I woke up for the third time outside under the plasma t.v. box. Tree nights I be sleepin here. It only cover part of me body cause I am 6 feet tree. I moved

from Jamaica back in 83 when I was 14. Me brothas was only four and five. The next year me fatha started to get hooked on drugs and had over dosed. Befo he passed he got my motha hooked too. She went into rehab soon after. Thats when I ended upp in the foster home. when I turned 18, I left and thats were I am now. I have no job, And everyone I pass is intimidated by me size and the scares I have on me body. I see this garden which lots of people go. I think bout goin someday, but I don't know how to become apart of it. So I jus gwan on home. But today, I'ma go to get a job. First I'm goin to the korean grocery sto to buy some seeds. Maybe me gwan buy some a dem patato. Den Ima go ova and ask the managa for a job. Then I’ll buy a small pot and scoop some dirt from outside and plant me patatos fore I go ask what I gotta do to be in da garden. If I have to pay, then Ill jus buy stick wit me lickle pot. But I Am goin at six.

That’s not for another 30 minuetes. Meantime I’ll jus fix myself up to be presentable.

Finaly I can go. The store jus opened and its Friday. The Khan’s are most happy on Fridays and in the morning they’re happier cause there is less naggy custamas and the lines shorta so I can do what I wanna do quickly. That’s how I’ve been most my life. I never procrastinated much and always was quick to do what I had to do so that if I finish early, I can have more time to rest. In school I always did well. But it all went down hill when my parents passed. But that’s all in the past. It’s a new day and a new start. As I waslked into the grocery store I saw that it was completely empty. So to make sure I wasn’t wrong about the days I walked over to the door and rang the bell that usually rings when the door opens. A young black girl about my age came and asked if she could help me. I responed yes. I was looking for potato seeds. She quickly showed me them and then asked if I was planning on planting on the community garden.

I said yes

then asked her if I had to pay. To my surprise she responded no. She said that you jus go and pick out a spot. I responded thanks then asked if there were any job openings. She wasn't able to tell me but instead led me to the Khans who owned the store. I got the position to stock the store. The girl said it was most likely cause my hight and built cause they had refuse to take her until she lifted a box Mrs.Khan could barely lift. Now with my new job I could save up enough to get an apartment or little place to live. But for now I'll jus have to continue livin under that box.

Tamika and I shared the same shifts. When she had to pack something to high for her she called me. We soon became good friends. We also had garden spots next to each other .I soon became friends with the other people she was friends with. But I still had the problem of getting a place to stay. I thought about dropping the idea of staying with someone but I was still was unsure if I was friends enough with them. I only had enough money to buy me some food every night. It would take me a promotion or a couple of nights of not eating to rent a low price studio or apartment. I get paid tweny fo dollas a hour fo six hours. I get 144 dollas a day four four days which supplies me wit food fo a week and tree days. Or maybe if I can work double shifts or get anotha job. The next day I went to the garden to check my plant and a lady was walking aroud asking anyone if they could help her. For once what seemed like a place where nobody could say no to helping eacother, everyone had denied her and came with exuses. Finaly when se got to me I said yes before she could evan answer.

A smile came onto her face from one ear to another. She told me that she wasn’t able to handle the laundry business by herself since her employe had been out after being beat up by thugs. Without me she would loose her business. Now with the new laundry

job I would be able to make 216 dollas for three days a week and together I can make 792 dollas a week. This will get me that studio a block away from the garden at 290 dollas a month. But its only 20 feet by 8 feet and can only fit a bed, fridge, and small stove and microwave. Just like I had feared on the first couple of days either I or Tamika would fall for eachother. Tamika had began to grow on to me but I could never see us as a couple. But maybe I could give it a try.

RICHARD By: Collin Giuliani

If you’re a teenager, life’s tough enough. The girls are on you like crazy.

You’ve got to worry about being popular. You’re going off to college in about two years, and this is around the point where you’re findin’ yourself.

However, this is also the point where your life is a downhill spiral.

But my life? This is like the end of a wild roller coaster. This is straight downhill and it won’t stop. And honestly, it’s getting worse.

My dad is serving in Vietnam in the Vietnam War. I haven’t seen him for around four years now. I’ve been living on Gibb Street for about four years now. I had to move when we couldn’t afford Los Angeles anymore after my

mom needed a better job with dad not around anymore. When mom told me we gotta move to Cleveland, I realized that this was how my teenage years would start. And it hasn’t stopped.

After moving to Cleveland, we realized two years later that my mom was diagnosed with lung cancer. This wasn’t minor. They said that the only way this was going away was by extreme therapy twice a week.

My life hasn’t been the same since. I’ve practically lost both of my parents. I’ve got no future now that I dropped out of school because I had to take care of my ailing mom. My life is like the Titanic- it was hopeful and promising, but in the end, it just sunk. Teenagers have it tough. But my life is ten times worse.

I was hopeful for the first two years of therapy. My mom was still feeling the same, maybe suffering just a tad. But the three months after that were painful. She had trouble breathing. She felt awful every time I came to support her. She loved going for walks before she got lung cancer- she even ran a 5k while we lived in Los Angeles, but now, she doesn’t want to walk.

Cleveland is a city of disaster. There be those gangsters on the block over there, those people starting riots on the block over there, and those racist whites that still believe they’re the best across the street. There’d be those people doin’ drugs on the corners, those teens throwin’ they lives away

drinkin’ till they drunk, and those teens shootin’ themselves in the allies of the city.

Cleveland be a cheap city to live in- that’s the only reason we could afford this place. Still, I can see why it’s cheap to live in. It’s a bad place growin’ up to live in, it’s a city of violence and racism and it’s a city where nobody wants to live in. This city be a city of violence and disaster. And with my entire life being the way it is right now, and with everything going on in the community, you can forget about it. My life is just like Clevelanda disaster.

I tried to believe. I prayed to the Lord that there’d be a miracle like the USA hockey team in 1980. My mom was a good person. She prayed every Sunday, she sang in the choir in Los Angeles and donated when she could go to church. I continued to pray, but every time that I prayed, it got worse.

The days went on, and I was leaning towards a miracle to start, but in the end, I was leaning towards preparations of her death.

On the third month of the year, she couldn’t breathe. She suffered a lack of oxygen. I immediately called for help, but it came to no avail. I told her that I loved her, and I’ll always remember what she said after that. “I’m proud of you,” she said with a soft and ailing voice. “You’ve got a bright

future. I’ll always remember you, and I’ll always love you. If you ever see your dad again, even if he might be dead by now, tell your dad… I love him.”

With that, I cried. My mom was dead. I was living with nobody now. My life was dead. Sure, teenagers make bad decisions, like getting pregnant and doin' drugs, but they have the support of their parents and peers. To know something that I couldn't possibly fix, that I had to get out of this scenario on my own without my own parents, I was headed for failure. ************************************************************* I was goin' to get a job because this was the only possible way I was livin' here and not in a place like Guatemala. There was a local supermarket nearby that was hiring and looking for a job. This was my only hope at surviving in a city like this all on my own. I went to the store manager. He was pleased that I was looking for work. He asked me to rearrange an aisle and if I did it perfectly, I would get the job. Nobody even came to get hired.

I did it quickly, but with care, and the manager was impressed. I got myself a job.

I left the supermarket happy and opportunistic and optimistic that I might be able to do this on my own. But I knew I couldn't inside. There was just a special connection that me and my mom had that I feel can't be touched.

Coming home from the supermarket, I overheard a fifteen year old speaking with his mom.

"Why can't I go to the Cavaliers game this week by myself?" the teenager asked. "After all, we do have season tickets."

"You can't go," replied the mom. "We're visiting your uncle in Cincinnati, remember?"

"But mom!"

"No buts what so ever. You cannot go to the Cavs game and that's final!"

"You know what, mom? I can make my own decisions. I can live on my own. I don't need you in my life anymore!"

And overhearing that conversation, I just broke into tears. I don't know why, maybe because it's been hard for me to control myself after the death of my mom, but I just broke down.

"You're don't know how lucky you are to have a mom that's still around to take care of you!" I yelled. The teenager gave me a creepy stare. "You're very fortunate to have someone to watch over you like a mom! Do you know how much I want someone like a mom in my life to take care of me?"

I just ran to the apartment. I needed help, and I knew it. I couldn't take the pain of living alone without any parents and any support. I prayed to the

Lord to give me guidance and support and reassurance during my tough time. I looked around by the steps of my apartment, and then saw something that attracted my eye.

A garden. ************************************************************* I couldn't believe my eyes. I thought that I was dreamin' in a city of violence and cruelty. This city finally had something of hope and something for people to get guidance from. I went back to the supermarket the next day and bought some tomato seeds with the money I made on my first day at work. I remembered my grandpa, who died of cancer, who would make his famous tomato soup when he came over. I remembered my grandma, who died just a few years ago of old age, and how she used to tell old stories about her home country of Peru, where she used to tell about the importance of tomatoes because the origin of tomatoes is Peru, and how I used to sit in bed every night, listening to her stories and being amazed.

I remembered my aunt, who moved to Bakersfield after we moved to Cleveland. She used to play the guitar, and she used to play songs about the tomato. Looking back on them, they were corny and songs that I laugh at now, but I remembered them from back in the day, and I realized that this was a deed for her, hoping that her life was good in Bakersfield.

But most importantly, I remembered my mom and my dad. I remembered my mom, and how she made Peruvian tomato soup twice a week when grandma couldn't come. I remembered how sweet the tomato soup tasted and how I wanted to make it in honor of her. I remembered my dad, who came from China, the world's leading tomato producer, and how he used to say that tomatoes were good luck and how you could see into life when you look at the core of the tomato. These people inspired me to grow this tomato. Whether it is a fruit or a vegetable, it can be classified for me as a symbol of hope.

And that's what I needed right now.

I planted and watered my tomatoes every day of the week, hoping that one day, the tomato would grow. Patience and care was required to plant these tomatoes, and I had trouble finding it the first few days after the death of my mom. But over time, the tomatoes taught me about these, and I's startin' to feel good about my life.

Over time, I started to see a change in the tomatoes and their growth.

The tomatoes looked like they were ready to eat, but I wasn't goin' to take no chances. After I didn't see it grow for a week, I took the tomato and thanked the Lord for some hope. I was still tryin' to find myself in these tough times, so I remembered my dad. He used to tell me, "Whenever you're in doubt and whenever you feel like the world around you be a hatin' on you, take a tomato, and look into the core of the tomato, and you'll always see that the world is gonna get better."

I just shed a tear remembering that, and I was thinking about my dad, not knowing if he was still alive in the Vietnam War. I didn't know if he be dead or alive, but I had hope in him. So, I looked into the tomato and saw my dad walkin' down the street that looked like Cleveland, and a stunned look in his eyes. I thought that I was just dreamin' about my dad and that I was just over-remembering him too much.

I tried a second time and looked into the tomato again, and I saw the same exact thing. It gave me more detail, though. It looked like he was roundin' the corner of Gibb Street and walkin' past the supermarket. At least it looked like it; it said Supermarket on the top of the cover protecting the supermarket from the wind, and it had red and green stripes on the cover. It was stunning, and a bit creepy to say the least. I tried it once before, about three years ago, when my grandma died, and I was looking if my future would get better. The vision in the tomato wasn’t the same as the actual outcome.

I looked into the tomato a third time, and the details were the same.

Through the tomato, my dad was roundin' the corner of Gibb Street and walkin' past the supermarket. This was the third time it happened, so I thought that I be overthinking 'bout my dad. I needed to realize that this wasn't true. I needed to realize that I be wrong. A part of me was thinking that this was real and that life was turnin’ around before my very eyes. And another part of me was thinking that this was just a fantasy, that this was just what I wanted life to be. I was tellin’ myself, ‘prove it.’

So I turned around, and looked at the corner of Gibb Street.

Jamie By: Rikki Winter It was my mom, my brother, and I. Now it’s just my brother and me. My mom passed away on her way home from the supermarket and a drunken man hit her. This makes me scared, I’m always afraid if this could happen to my brother, and me. There is a lot of fighting here. But I’m used to that because of Israel. I would rather be there than here. I like America better than Israel; it makes me feel different, and I like being different. She is buried in Israel, where I’m from. I moved here when I was 4, now I’m 12. We had to leave Israel and come here because of the fighting. My dad and my older brother are in Israel fighting against the Muslims. I speak to them everyone once in a while but not often. Michael would be with them, but he was at one point, and while he was there he got shot and lost one of his legs. This makes him paralyzed from the waist down. So I have to step up to the plate and be the replacement of my mom.

I basically have to do everything for my brother. Sometimes he annoys me, but I do what ever he asks anyway because I know he would do the same for me. I don’t have many friends, only a couple. My brother doesn’t like when I have my friends over because he is embarrassed of what he looks like. I understand. I can’t go over to other people’s homes because who will be there to take care of Michael? Most of the days I just come home and then I have to help Michael 24/7. I’m ok with that. I guess.

One day, my friend Chelsea asked me to go over her house, I thought I might ask my brother because he had been really happy lately. When I came home I asked Michael if I could go to Chelsea’s “NO! Are you kidding?! Who will be here to take care of me?” screamed Michael.

“But you have Andrew to help!” I said back (Andrew was one of Michael’s friends, they meet a while back.) Andrew came once every week to hang out with Michael.

“Andrew’s my friend NOT my servant!” Tears came to my eyes, I was NOT Michael’s servant! “ I’M NOT YOUR SERVANT! I AM YOUR SISITER, I AM DONE HELPING YOU, YOU CAN HAVE ANDREW DO EVERYTHING FOR YOU, GOOD BYE!” I ran towards the door Michael called out “Jamie, wait!” I turned around to face him “I need a cold water with ice!”

I opened the door and ran out! I started crying, hysterics. Tears running down my face as I was running. After about 5 blocks of running and crying I had to stop. I couldn’t run or cry anymore. With only $20 in my pocket there was no way I could survive out here, I knew I had to go home but not yet! I just wanted to walk. So, I walked about 3 blocks and then I saw something, it was like a vacant place, but with people and plants in it.

I walked into this vacant place and asked a man what it was and he said it was a garden, he told me it was a place for him to get away and go to his own world. This place was made for me! I needed to get away, from my brother that was! I ran down the street

to the super-market. There I bought carrot seeds and a shovel. I wanted to plant carrots because mom always said they were good for me.

When I got back into the garden I had found the perfect spot! Right in the back so no one can see me! This is so perfect because I don’t want my brother knowing I am here because then he will make me stop coming, I will just come home from school a little bit late everyday.

After I finally planted my carrots I ran home. It was extremely late and I needed a shower. When I opened the door Michael screamed “JAMIE! YOUR BACK!” he wheeled over to me and gave me a big hug. “I thought you didn’t hug your servant?!” and I jolted back from the hug.“ Michael replied “I’m so sorry! I had no idea what I was saying!” I really was in no mood to talk or forgive him! “I needa shower.” I said and then I ran down the hall to the shower.

When I woke up the next morning Michael was sitting at the table waiting for me.

I said “What do you want to eat?” “I ate already, I had some cereal” said Michael. I was so confused he never used his chair, he hated it! “I thought you hated using your chair?” I said, I wanted to know why he was all of a sudden using it. “Well, my servant isn’t working full time anymore” said Michael giving me a wink. I replied with a smile, then ran out the door. I re-opened the door and yelled “I’M STAYING AFTER TODAY.” I closed the door and ran off to school.

After school, I went to the garden to check on my carrots. Some man came up to me he was wearing what looked like rags and he was holding a pitchfork. He said “Your carrot’s, lookin' good!” I watered them. I felt connected to these carrots, like when I got there they were telling me they wanted water, it sounded like my moms voice telling me

they needed water! After I heard my mom saying that to me I sang to my carrots the song my she sang to me before I went to sleep every night. When I was done I walked home enjoying the beautiful day. For about a week and a half I would tell my brother different excuses that would let me go to the garden after school. I loved my carrots, singing listening to them! It was great.

Before I left for school I screamed inside I had math extra help after school. I always would do that but with a different excuse everyday. While I was closing the door I caught a quick glance at his face it looked confused. “Why?” he said before I closed it all the way. “I have a major test tomorrow and I am a little confused about something, is that ok?” I said, hoping he wouldn’t suspect something “Yeah, that’s totally fine. I’m proud you ya sis!” he said back. I knew he didn’t suspect a thing!

That day I ran to the garden! I didn’t want Michael to suspect a thing so I tried to hurry home as fast as I could. Then I thought, I might as well make it seem like I am studying hard for my math test. So I stopped rushing. I watered my plants talked to them a little bit. And then I sang the song. When I finished my song I got up brushed the soil off my jeans and turned around to walk out of the garden. When I turned around I say my brother staring at me with tears in his eyes.

Stan By: Scott Landman My life isn’t that fun. No friends. No Extended family. I’m just a poor boy living on the streets with my Dad. Luckily every night my dad can get me and him into PAWS-a shelter where my whole life has gone by. It’s very quite and isolated in the separate rooms. They are very dense but good. I was born here, but hopefully I will fulfill my dream as a farmer in a large, non-polluted area for me and my family when I grow up.

Oh, dreams, why can’t you rise up and awake from your long sleep It won’t happen.

Daddy doesn’t think so.

I’m a shy guy, but I look pretty scary. I’m Indian, about six feet. My feet are too big for regular shoes. I don’t like it, not a very cool thing to have size 17 feet when your only 12. It only adds another problem to my life. All I want to do is help the communityGibb Street- and make something of myself. I’m a pretty good guy. I go to school everyday. I try hard, but the knowledge just seems to be lost somewhere in my big head.

I don’t know where I get my accent. This diverse country is so hard- the language, the culture, the different food, humph I don’t know where to put myself into society. I moved here from India when I was three. All the kids made fun of me because of my turban. I still wear it but it doesn’t fit much- almost none of my clothes do. My mom was LOADED with cash. But then she started working later, and not spending time with me

and Daddy. She was with other people- cheating. Not one of my favorite words. Mom left us with 5 billion bucks in her wallet, and three bags in the yellow taxi. Leaving us still in our house. Broke as a glass ball in a soccer game. I was five when she left.

I try to put that history behind me and look for if I can afford to go to college. But Daddy doesn’t think that’s gonna happen- my average is a C. I am an outstanding student at life science. But, I only take it for one quarter, one quarter of the school year of an A. I found a garden one-day, not to big, to small. Maybe I still have some hope in me. There was one spot with about one square foot of dandelions. The sound of them swaying in the wind was music to my ears. I didn’t hesitate to walk over there and claim that land as Stanatopia! I sat down in the flowers, some people call weeds, and all my problems just seemed to disappear. My dream is starting to come clear.

I fell asleep. Don’t know how long I’ve been here. There is only a strongly builtblack teenager who is walking around fixing things. He helped me up. He asked if I wanted to get my parents. I didn’t reply. This isn’t very like Cleveland, not at all. I know this place as an every-step deathtrap. Maybe there is some hope left in this city, in this garden. Maybe there is something left in me.

Carmen

By Hillary Schier My cousin Maricella...where do I begin? I don’t really know …., but I’m Carmen Rodriguez.

Me and my mom came to this stupid town last night. Everyone here looks at me like I'm weird…like I have four heads...like I don’t belong here… because…yea …well …I don’t.

I have no friends here. None. Not one. Not even my cousin. We got in a fight a few years back. My mind is still scared from seeing a thirteen year-old girl attempting to “murder me”….yea that was not fun.

Anyways, right now Maricella is pregnant and 16 years old….so am I ….well the 16 part…not pregnant. Me and my mom came to live with her family for the summer. I’m from California….I live for summer. But instead I get to come to Cleveland-Whoo!!!

This is just great. She hates me; she’s pregnant, and she’s the only person I know here. ~~~ Ugh here we go. My mom rang the doorbell. I heard a ding…then some screaming…then some “Marcella be nice”…then a thud. Oh wait never mind…that was just the sound of my heart beating.

The door swung open. “Oh, Theresa!!” my aunt Belinda said, perkier than I would expect. My mom’s face turned bright red from the force of my aunt Belinda’s hug. Then it was my turn. It was the same routine. I finally worked up enough courage to ask my

aunt the question.

“Where’s Marcella?? ” I asked. literally shaking. I hadn’t seen Marcella since our “incident”. My Aunt Belinda stepped a pace or two to the right. My mouth dropped open.

Marcella looked TERRIBLE. Her stomach made a decent carrying case for at least 2 watermelons. I hadn’t seen dark circles around an eye like hers since…well ever.

She stared at me. Not like the other people did….it was more of an “I hate you go back to California” look. I told my family I needed a walk.

I walked for a few blocks. Weaving in and out of small shops. Until I saw IT. It was like nothing I had ever seen before. It was a garden. There was so much life and color going on in the garden. Not just plants, people too. I saw Indians, African Americans, Koreans, Hispanics and a lot more. I saw a group of girls my age talking. I wondered if this wouldn’t be so bad if I just had one friend. I decided I would continue shopping and I would come back tomorrow.

Speaking of friends, that reminded me…In California, all the teachers give you one big assignment over the summer. For my science class I had to observe the life cycle somehow. I knew one of my friends bought a fish egg and I was planning on doing that also but I couldn’t take a fish on the plane. It was then that it hit me. I would grow plants for my research project. I was gonna grow spinach because I was staying here for eight weeks and it takes six weeks to grow.

I walked around the neighborhood until I came across a little stand selling seeds and fresh fruits and vegetables. Soon the man that owned the stand got 5 dollars richer and I could start my science project.

I took a deep breath before ringing the doorbell of my “summer home”. Marcella

answered. She smiled. I. WAS. SHOCKED. “What's the spinach for?” she asked confused. I told her about my school and the project we had to do for school. She told me she had nothing else to do and that she wanted to help me. “I have to go to the garden anyway, this class my parent signed me up for is about the “miracle of life”. I have to grow something in the garden too. So we will do it together. If you want?” Marcella asked me. “S-s-s-sure. T-t-that w-would be g-great.” I said back more shocked than iIve ever been. The words barely came out of my mouth.

We both just looked at each other and smiled. ~~~ Last night me and Marcella were acting as if we were two peas in a pod. We walked downtown to an Italian restaurant and had dinner then we went to the video shop and rented a horror movie.

We are now on our way to the garden so she can witness “the miracle of life” and I can do my science project. I stepped inside the garden. We looked around for a plot of land. I found he perfect spot right next to maricella's. I helped her pick her fruit.

That night at the dinner table we were eating tacos and Marcella’s fruit. I heard a gurgling noise. Apparently so did everyone else.

We all turned to Marcella who was looking at her huge stomach. She ran and I mean RAN into the bathroom. My Aunt Belinda followed her.

The bathroom door busted open and only four words came out of my aunt’s mouth ”Get. In. The. Car. ”

Paco

Ever since my family moved to Cleveland we have had hard time. My mother, father and younger brother and I all live in an apartment. We moved here because my mothers family lived here, but when we got here, we had found out hat they passed away before we got to see them. A few weeks after we got settled in, my mother went out to get dinner at the supermarket. This was the night she was run over by a truck. She was 54 years old. My father is 57 years old, my brother is 14 and I am 15. It was different to have a father and no mother. My father works in a small thrift shop and does not get paid very much. We moved here from Mexico. I usually need to help with the food, which is different in Cleveland then in Mexico. One day when I went walking with my family through Gibb Street I saw a garden. I did not say anything about it though. The next day when my father went down to the shop, I told my brother about my idea, which would help make more food. He liked the idea also, so I took him down to the garden. There was not very much room in the garden for us, which we almost gave up because we thought somebody would use it before we got to it. For our idea to work, we needed seeds to plant, and water. The next day, my brother went to the garden to dig the holes for the seeds, and I went to the store. There were small packages of all different kinds of foods. I only had 2 dollars, and one package costs 1 dollar. I picked out a packet of tomatoes, and corn. That was all my money. By the time I had arrived back at the garden, the holes had already been dug. My brother had a cup of water. We poured the seeds into

each hole, and then put dirt back over it. Then my brother poured the water over each hole, and we were all finished. The first week was taking long for the seeds to grow, but in a few more days, little plants started to come up. We continued to water them. One day when my father came home he said he had bad news. He said he had lost his job and is trying to find a new one. My brother and I had not yet told him about the garden, and now we would. We explained how everyday he was gone we planted and watered seeds in the garden on Gibb Street. He thought that this was smart because we would not have to spend money until we ate all the food off the plants in our garden. We brought him there the next day and the tomatoes and corn were already grown. We took the corn and some tomatoes. My father kept looking for jobs. The garden was going good for the whole year, until the winter. The snow came and the plants died. We had taken all the food before the winter because we knew they would die. In a few weeks the food ran out.

We had to buy food at the supermarket until the spring. Life was hard living in Cleveland, and very different than Mexico.

Hannah

By Taylor

If I could describe Cleveland in 3 words, I’d say separated, dirty, and just plain different. In other places, most people socialize no matter what background, here, in Cleveland, is very different.

Everyone is separated and there are many crimes. The problem with this city is that nobody socializes and nothing can change that. I wish that some miracle can repair this broken down city and make the citizens realize that they are all people, and they have to get along. I guess Cleveland is just unique.

I am 16 years old. I live with my mom but she doesn’t even know I exist. She is always working and never has time for me. My dad left when I was 3 years old. So I guess there is no one to do anything with or even talk to about any problems. My name is Hanna Carter, and I believe everything happens for a reason, especially here.

During school today, I heard there was a community garden in the old dirty lot. I didn’t believe it, especially in a place like this. I thought it was all a joke. I didn’t bother to ask about it, I knew it was too good to be true anyway.

As I was walking down Gibb Street, I heard socialization in what I thought, was an empty, dirty lot. I was curious and I went closer to the voices. I peeked through the

fence and saw people… gardening? “So it was true, there is a community garden,” I said to myself. I had always had an interest for gardening, but I just never had the time. I slowly walked in the garden, it was quite beautiful with the colorful flowers & shiny fruits and vegetables. I asked a man “What is this?” He responded “it’s a community garden, amazing aint’ it?” I smiled and agreed with him. I was astonished that something like this happened, I dreamed something like this would happen. I gazed a little more, but than I had to leave, just so mom wouldn't worry. I had planned to come again tomorrow.

The kids in school were right.

I woke up on Saturday morning, eager to go to the grocery store to buy seeds. I want to garden, I have a feeling that it will change something, I always wanted to garden something and watch it prosper and bloom into something beautiful and meaningful. I got out of bed and walked to the local grocery store. I had planned to buy rose seeds. I wanted to plan them because my only best friends name was Rose, until she died of Leukemia 3 years ago. She has been rattling in my mind ever since she passed. She was my only friend and only person in my life that I could look up to. So, I am planting roses in her memory, and also, the rose, was her favorite flower. I purchased the seeds and went to the garden right away.

As I walked to the garden, I bumped into a girl my age. “Oh I am so sorry!” I apologized. “Its no problem, you look familiar, do you go to Cleveland High School? I go there,” she said. “Yes I do, are you gardening in the garden too?” I asked. “Yes I am, I am planting roses.” I was amazed about how much we had in common. We talked more and more. We decided to plant our flowers next to each other. I felt I actually had a friend. Her name is Danielle. It was strange about how much she reminded me of Rose.

Maybe Danielle is Roses’ replacement. “This is a good spot to plant,” Danielle said. I agreed. It caught a lot of sunlight.

I couldn't believe it. I had a friend. We spent all day tending, planting, and watering our section of the garden.

It has been weeks and weeks of planting with Dani. She was my best friend. We spent so much time together after that. Everyone in the garden did. Dani and I had watched the very second the roses popped out of the ground, until they bloomed into beautiful, complete roses. And we did it all together.

The day that the 3rd batch of roses bloomed, I specially picked out 3 roses. I picked them out for Rose. It has been 3 years since she passed. Each year it has been, had gotten one rose. I cut the 3 roses out of the ground and put them in a special vase that Rose got me for my birthday 4 years ago. This was in the memory of Rose Cohen.

Spring changed to summer, as summer changed to autumn, as autumn changed to winter, all in the blink of an eye. Ever since I participated in the garden with Dani, the year has been going so fast. Well its Winter, the season where we all have to stop gardening for a while. It upset all of us, but it was a great experience while it lasted. This garden had changed Cleveland to a safe, connected, friendly town where everyone got along, no matter what reason. It has brought people together and to speak with one another and not fight. The minute I saw this garden, I knew it would change everything and everyone.

Goodbye old Cleveland, hello to the new.

Ryan Rosenberg It was a dark night in Russia and I was sitting at home watching the View Subject, when my mom called me for dinner. We were having spaghetti and meatballs at the dinner table, which was delicious. Then my parents told my brother and

I we were moving to the United States. I was so glad to finally go to America and start a new life. The night ended on a good note, I couldn’t believe that my dream was coming true! The next morning when I woke up, I started to pack so my family and I could leave.

It ended up being a whole week before we left Russia to go live in the U.S. Which to me was forever.

My plane landed in Burke Lakefront airport, Cleveland, Ohio and I had never been this excited in my life. On the way to my new home I saw the most amazing thing I have ever seen. It was a school that was three stories high! I asked my mom if I could go there. I frowned because I wanted to g o there really bad. She told me that when I am older I would go there, which got me jumping with joy. But for now I am going to East Middle School. When we finally got home I ran upstairs to choose my room with joy and unpack my things. The sun came out in Cleveland on a beautiful Friday morning and I had to walk to school because my parents had other plans, which was painful because I had to walk 3 miles. When I got to the school I saw all these kids that were different sizes, skin color, hair color, and wore different clothes, which got me a little scared and amazed.

When I walked into the school I was shaking and starting to tear up out of my eyes. In the hallway everything was such a blur, I felt out of place, and I was. I heard these really weird sounds coming from the students who walked by me. I was told to go to the office to speak to the principle and I thought I go t into trouble. Luckily, he came up to me and brought me to his office so he could introduce me to the school. I was barely able to stand up, I was so scared. When we were in his office and he said, “Hello and welcome to East middle school. What your name?” I didn’t know what to say, I was

freaking out. Then he said, “ Right you don’t speak English! You speak Russian” I just nodded my head in the motion of yes. After the awkward meeting with the principle, which to me was terrible, he took me to my classroom where I would learn the new language and the new environment here. Soon the school day was over, I had survived!

“Thank god” I said. I was almost crying of joy that I had finished my first day of school.

On my way home from school I was walking on Gibb Street and I passed this beautiful garden where all different kinds of people from different countries stood to look at the beautiful plants and vegetables. When I got up to the front I was amazed by what I saw and I wanted to stay here forever. When I saw all the people becoming friends and having fun I thought to my self and said, “ Should I join the garden and fit in, or should I just leave it alone and stay out of it”. Then I asked them as nice as I could “ Can I join the garden?” They took 1 second to answer and it was a yes. I started my garden that day, but it was only 15 minutes till I got hungry and had to go home. When I walked into my house I could smell the brisket in the oven with gravy on the side. I called my mom to see where she was; she was in her bedroom taking a nap. I was so quiet so I wouldn’t wake her up. I decided to finish cooking the brisket and heat up the gravy. When I was finished my brother and dad walked in and said, “Smells great” my dad walked right into his room and saw mom sleeping and he let here be. It was 5:45 pm when the brisket was finally ready and my dad went and woke my mom up and told her that dinner was ready. After dinner I went to bed after a long day living in Cleveland. In my bed I thought to myself what plant I should plant it took my 30 minutes to decide that I was going to plant carrots.

I woke up the next morning very early to go to the garden and pick up where I left

off on my garden yesterday. But before I went to the garden I went to the plant store to go buy carrot seeds and I had never been so happy buy something before this. When I got to the garden I was the only one there, so I couldn’t make any new friends just yet. After a half-an hour of working I finally saw someone come and work in the garden and I went and introduced my self. It was a little hard for me because I only knew a couple of American words. He responded by saying his name, it was “ Gonzalo”. Gonzalo was very nice and had his uncle in town where he to had to teach him how to speak English.

Gonzalo knew I didn’t know English that good by the way I talked, so he offered to teach me some English, which was very nice of him. I thought to myself did I finally make a friend, the answer was yes I started to cry of joy. Gonzalo asked me “why I was crying?” and I said, “because I am happy” Gonzalo and I had become great friends. He was a great English teacher for me. After a month of learning English I just focused on my carrots. I watered them, gave them light, and protected them like it was my love. A couple of weeks had passed and my carrots were finally ready so I asked Gonzalo to show me how to crop it out. After he showed me I finished cropping out my carrots I was so happy. I brought my carrots home and gave them to my mom, so I could show her what I had made. She was thrilled that I made carrots and then she said “I am going to use these for soup tomorrow”. I asked “what kind of soup?” Her answer was “Chicken noodle soup”. I said “Yummy”. After I gave my mom the carrots I went back to the garden and planted the rest of the carrot seeds I had. After they grew and I cropped them out I would keep on buying and planting my carrot seeds in the garden on Gibb Street. The Gibb Street garden was the best thing that every happened to me when I first moved to the United States. The garden was a fun place and a good place to make friends.