Gum Tree Writing 20130510

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The 42nd Celebration of the Arts

2013 Youth Celebration of Writing Contest

Winners from grades K-12 Sponsored by:

A Newspaper & Education supplement to the

Character building curriculum for 2nd - 4th grades

Character building curriculum for pre-K - 1st grade

Find us on Facebook

www.integritytime.com Document: A001DJS051013.eps;Page: 1;Format:(254.00 x 254.00 mm);Plate: Composite;Date: May 08, 2013 16:20:08;JPC 72 DPI

The 42nd Celebration of the Arts

2013 Youth Celebration of Writing Contest

Winners from grades K-12 Sponsored by:

A Newspaper & Education supplement to the

Character building curriculum for 2nd - 4th grades

Character building curriculum for pre-K - 1st grade

Find us on Facebook

www.integritytime.com Document: A001DJS051013.eps;Page: 1;Format:(254.00 x 254.00 mm);Plate: Composite;Date: May 08, 2013 16:20:08;JPC 72 DPI

The 42nd Celebration of the Arts

2013 Youth Celebration of Writing Contest

Winners from grades K-12 Sponsored by:

A Newspaper & Education supplement to the

Character building curriculum for 2nd - 4th grades

Character building curriculum for pre-K - 1st grade

Find us on Facebook

GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

| FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

DAILY JOURNAL

Why Write?

by Amy Wyatt

Does writing make you happy? Some people make it such a part of their daily lives that they liken it to eating. They are not able to exist without doing it, and it makes them very happy. Words flow from their pencils so easily. Others view writing as the ultimate chore, laboring over each word. Most of us probably fall somewhere in between, with our opinion about the task depending on our purpose and our audience.

Author’s Purpose is a topic that has been on my mind quite a bit lately because it is an important objective in our second grade curriculum. One way that I’ve found to teach about the different reasons someone writes is to use the acronym P.I.E., which stands for Persuade, Inform, and Entertain. Simply put, these are the three reasons any person writes.

As I prepared this year’s winning entries for publication, I began thinking about Author’s Purpose again.

I noted that most of these pieces were written for entertainment, whether through poetry, personal narrative, realistic fiction, or fantasy. However, if you look closely, you will see each part of P.I.E. represented.

There are some examples of persuasive writing, as well as informational writing.

I also began to wonder how these young writers view writing. When they sat down to write their entry for this year’s contest, what was their perception of writing? Was this just another assignment, or was it something that they could not wait to complete? No matter the answer, I hope they continue to write for various reasons. Pablo Picasso once said, “The purpose of art is washing the dust of daily life off our souls.” Writing can be like this for us. If we practice it daily, writing becomes a habit, and we’ll find opportunities to use it to persuade, to inform, and to entertain.

The process of choosing winning entries and publishing them had many steps. It began in February when representatives from schools all over Lee County were contacted to serve as building-level coordinators.

The coordinators passed along information about the

contest, including rules and timelines. Later, near the end of March, they were responsible for collecting students’ papers and delivering them to my school.

All this work was leading up to a very important date – judging day! I was humbled to work with so many talented people willing to spend the day at the Hancock Leadership Center in order to complete the daunting task of reading over fifteen hundred worthy entries and narrowing them down to the small group of exceptional poems, stories, and essays that are included here. That morning began by organizing the massive stacks of papers by grade level and type of writing. Next, each piece of writing was detached from its coversheet and assigned a number. The coversheet would need to be reattached when judging was over and the paper returned to the rightful owner.

After the organizing was over, groups of judges began reading entries from their assigned grade level.

At times the room was buzzing with noisy chatter about favorite stories or poems. I heard laughter, groans, and sighs. The judges worked diligently until a first, second, and third place for each category was chosen. In some cases, a tie was granted. When the day was over, seventy-six awards were given!

Letters of congratulation were mailed to the winners, along with a letter granting permission to publish the student’s writing and picture. It wasn’t long before I began to receive responses in my mailbox. I grew more and more excited as I checked off each name on the list.

Each entry had to be typed, numbered, and matched with the author’s picture. When all of the entries and photographs were completed, I emailed each grade level to the Northeast Mississippi Daily Journal’s office. At that point, the employees there began the process of putting together this supplement. I’m so thankful to them, because these students deserve a chance to share their voices. It is no small thing that readers all over Northeast Mississippi will

get to experience and enjoy these stories and poems. I would also like to express my appreciation to Robert Gaines with State Farm Insurance for sponsoring the writing and youth portfolio portion of the GumTree Festival this year.

This year’s GumTree Writing Contest will come to a close on Mother’s Day at 4:00 p.m. The students will be honored for their hard work during a ceremony held at the Jefferson Street stage. After reading their writing, I can’t wait to put a face with each story or poem! I invite you to join us.

Judges for the 2013 GumTree Writing Contest Sally Amos Suzanne Bingham Terry Leigh Clayton Carmon Dye April Friar LaShanda Garrett Shannon Harlow

Tara Harris Janelle Keith Alice Maynard Robin Newell Leigh Anne Newton Stephanie NorwoodWayne

Lisa Rhoden Camille Shumpert Leigh Smith Mathinee Spencer Felicia Woods

Who Will Be Our Next

John Grisham?

Come by Reed’s GumTree Bookstore to see the winning entries of the GumTree Writing Contest.

Congratulations to our young writers!

Reed’s GumTree Bookstore Historic Downtown Tupelo 842-6453 • www.reedsms.com reedsgumtree

Where Writers and Readers Meet in Tupelo

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2

GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

| FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

DAILY JOURNAL

Why Write?

by Amy Wyatt

Does writing make you happy? Some people make it such a part of their daily lives that they liken it to eating. They are not able to exist without doing it, and it makes them very happy. Words flow from their pencils so easily. Others view writing as the ultimate chore, laboring over each word. Most of us probably fall somewhere in between, with our opinion about the task depending on our purpose and our audience.

Author’s Purpose is a topic that has been on my mind quite a bit lately because it is an important objective in our second grade curriculum. One way that I’ve found to teach about the different reasons someone writes is to use the acronym P.I.E., which stands for Persuade, Inform, and Entertain. Simply put, these are the three reasons any person writes.

As I prepared this year’s winning entries for publication, I began thinking about Author’s Purpose again.

I noted that most of these pieces were written for entertainment, whether through poetry, personal narrative, realistic fiction, or fantasy. However, if you look closely, you will see each part of P.I.E. represented.

There are some examples of persuasive writing, as well as informational writing.

I also began to wonder how these young writers view writing. When they sat down to write their entry for this year’s contest, what was their perception of writing? Was this just another assignment, or was it something that they could not wait to complete? No matter the answer, I hope they continue to write for various reasons. Pablo Picasso once said, “The purpose of art is washing the dust of daily life off our souls.” Writing can be like this for us. If we practice it daily, writing becomes a habit, and we’ll find opportunities to use it to persuade, to inform, and to entertain.

The process of choosing winning entries and publishing them had many steps. It began in February when representatives from schools all over Lee County were contacted to serve as building-level coordinators.

The coordinators passed along information about the

contest, including rules and timelines. Later, near the end of March, they were responsible for collecting students’ papers and delivering them to my school.

All this work was leading up to a very important date – judging day! I was humbled to work with so many talented people willing to spend the day at the Hancock Leadership Center in order to complete the daunting task of reading over fifteen hundred worthy entries and narrowing them down to the small group of exceptional poems, stories, and essays that are included here. That morning began by organizing the massive stacks of papers by grade level and type of writing. Next, each piece of writing was detached from its coversheet and assigned a number. The coversheet would need to be reattached when judging was over and the paper returned to the rightful owner.

After the organizing was over, groups of judges began reading entries from their assigned grade level.

At times the room was buzzing with noisy chatter about favorite stories or poems. I heard laughter, groans, and sighs. The judges worked diligently until a first, second, and third place for each category was chosen. In some cases, a tie was granted. When the day was over, seventy-six awards were given!

Letters of congratulation were mailed to the winners, along with a letter granting permission to publish the student’s writing and picture. It wasn’t long before I began to receive responses in my mailbox. I grew more and more excited as I checked off each name on the list.

Each entry had to be typed, numbered, and matched with the author’s picture. When all of the entries and photographs were completed, I emailed each grade level to the Northeast Mississippi Daily Journal’s office. At that point, the employees there began the process of putting together this supplement. I’m so thankful to them, because these students deserve a chance to share their voices. It is no small thing that readers all over Northeast Mississippi will

get to experience and enjoy these stories and poems. I would also like to express my appreciation to Robert Gaines with State Farm Insurance for sponsoring the writing and youth portfolio portion of the GumTree Festival this year.

This year’s GumTree Writing Contest will come to a close on Mother’s Day at 4:00 p.m. The students will be honored for their hard work during a ceremony held at the Jefferson Street stage. After reading their writing, I can’t wait to put a face with each story or poem! I invite you to join us.

Judges for the 2013 GumTree Writing Contest Sally Amos Suzanne Bingham Terry Leigh Clayton Carmon Dye April Friar LaShanda Garrett Shannon Harlow

Tara Harris Janelle Keith Alice Maynard Robin Newell Leigh Anne Newton Stephanie NorwoodWayne

Lisa Rhoden Camille Shumpert Leigh Smith Mathinee Spencer Felicia Woods

Who Will Be Our Next

John Grisham?

Come by Reed’s GumTree Bookstore to see the winning entries of the GumTree Writing Contest.

Congratulations to our young writers!

Reed’s GumTree Bookstore Historic Downtown Tupelo 842-6453 • www.reedsms.com reedsgumtree

Where Writers and Readers Meet in Tupelo

Document: A002DJS051013.eps;Page: 1;Format:(254.00 x 254.00 mm);Plate: Composite;Date: May 08, 2013 16:20:12;JPC 72 DPI

2

GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

| FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

DAILY JOURNAL

Why Write?

by Amy Wyatt

Does writing make you happy? Some people make it such a part of their daily lives that they liken it to eating. They are not able to exist without doing it, and it makes them very happy. Words flow from their pencils so easily. Others view writing as the ultimate chore, laboring over each word. Most of us probably fall somewhere in between, with our opinion about the task depending on our purpose and our audience.

Author’s Purpose is a topic that has been on my mind quite a bit lately because it is an important objective in our second grade curriculum. One way that I’ve found to teach about the different reasons someone writes is to use the acronym P.I.E., which stands for Persuade, Inform, and Entertain. Simply put, these are the three reasons any person writes.

As I prepared this year’s winning entries for publication, I began thinking about Author’s Purpose again.

I noted that most of these pieces were written for entertainment, whether through poetry, personal narrative, realistic fiction, or fantasy. However, if you look closely, you will see each part of P.I.E. represented.

There are some examples of persuasive writing, as well as informational writing.

I also began to wonder how these young writers view writing. When they sat down to write their entry for this year’s contest, what was their perception of writing? Was this just another assignment, or was it something that they could not wait to complete? No matter the answer, I hope they continue to write for various reasons. Pablo Picasso once said, “The purpose of art is washing the dust of daily life off our souls.” Writing can be like this for us. If we practice it daily, writing becomes a habit, and we’ll find opportunities to use it to persuade, to inform, and to entertain.

The process of choosing winning entries and publishing them had many steps. It began in February when representatives from schools all over Lee County were contacted to serve as building-level coordinators.

The coordinators passed along information about the

contest, including rules and timelines. Later, near the end of March, they were responsible for collecting students’ papers and delivering them to my school.

All this work was leading up to a very important date – judging day! I was humbled to work with so many talented people willing to spend the day at the Hancock Leadership Center in order to complete the daunting task of reading over fifteen hundred worthy entries and narrowing them down to the small group of exceptional poems, stories, and essays that are included here. That morning began by organizing the massive stacks of papers by grade level and type of writing. Next, each piece of writing was detached from its coversheet and assigned a number. The coversheet would need to be reattached when judging was over and the paper returned to the rightful owner.

After the organizing was over, groups of judges began reading entries from their assigned grade level.

At times the room was buzzing with noisy chatter about favorite stories or poems. I heard laughter, groans, and sighs. The judges worked diligently until a first, second, and third place for each category was chosen. In some cases, a tie was granted. When the day was over, seventy-six awards were given!

Letters of congratulation were mailed to the winners, along with a letter granting permission to publish the student’s writing and picture. It wasn’t long before I began to receive responses in my mailbox. I grew more and more excited as I checked off each name on the list.

Each entry had to be typed, numbered, and matched with the author’s picture. When all of the entries and photographs were completed, I emailed each grade level to the Northeast Mississippi Daily Journal’s office. At that point, the employees there began the process of putting together this supplement. I’m so thankful to them, because these students deserve a chance to share their voices. It is no small thing that readers all over Northeast Mississippi will

get to experience and enjoy these stories and poems. I would also like to express my appreciation to Robert Gaines with State Farm Insurance for sponsoring the writing and youth portfolio portion of the GumTree Festival this year.

This year’s GumTree Writing Contest will come to a close on Mother’s Day at 4:00 p.m. The students will be honored for their hard work during a ceremony held at the Jefferson Street stage. After reading their writing, I can’t wait to put a face with each story or poem! I invite you to join us.

Judges for the 2013 GumTree Writing Contest Sally Amos Suzanne Bingham Terry Leigh Clayton Carmon Dye April Friar LaShanda Garrett Shannon Harlow

Tara Harris Janelle Keith Alice Maynard Robin Newell Leigh Anne Newton Stephanie NorwoodWayne

Lisa Rhoden Camille Shumpert Leigh Smith Mathinee Spencer Felicia Woods

Who Will Be Our Next

John Grisham?

Come by Reed’s GumTree Bookstore to see the winning entries of the GumTree Writing Contest.

Congratulations to our young writers!

Reed’s GumTree Bookstore Historic Downtown Tupelo 842-6453 • www.reedsms.com reedsgumtree

Where Writers and Readers Meet in Tupelo

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2

KINDERGARTEN - POETRY 1

John-Rilee Drummond

First Place - Poetry Kindergarten Carver Elementary School “Football” Hard helmets, Big pads, Long fields, Brown football, Knee pads, My team wins!

3

Mylah Foster

Third Place - Poetry Kindergarten Carver Elementary School

Daddy, PawPaw, GranGran, Uncle Mark, Aunt Shannon, Will, Ana, Cole and Bella 2

Brayden McCullough

Second Place - Poetry Kindergarten Carver Elementary School

“Mr. Bug and Ted” A bug laid on his rug, He wanted a hug, The bug dug in his bed, Then he felt a tug on his head, He knew it was his friend Ted on the bed.

Great job, Brayden! We are so proud of you! We love you!

Mom, Dad, Kaylee, and Preston

|

3

“My Silly Monster and Me”

He has four eyes, six arms, and five legs. His favorite thing to wear is Scooby Doo pajamas. We love to go fishing, but he scares all the fish away.

He likes to eat garbage. I think that is gross! We love to tell each other funny jokes and laugh a lot.

I love my silly monster.

6

Brody Thompson

“The Cat With the Hat” My cat sat on a mat, Then she saw a bat, She wanted to chase the bat, But there was a fat rat.

She chased the rat into a hat.

4

Great job, John-Rilee! We love you!

FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

Claudia Wilson

First Place - Narrative Kindergarten Carver Elementary School

Third Place Narrative Kindergarten Mooreville Elementary School “The Inchworm”

It was a hot day. My dad took me fishing at the creek. We started fishing, and I was sitting by the water. Then I saw an inchworm crawling, so I put my hand near the worm. The worm started crawling on top of my hand. It felt fuzzy, and I liked it. It had a green and brown body. And then we put the worm in the grass by the creek. It was a fun day!

FIRST GRADE - POETRY 7

“The Mysterious Seeds”

Allie planted three seeds in her garden. She went to sleep and when she woke up, they were on her table. She was surprised. She wondered how they got there. She put the seeds back in the ground.

That night she stayed awake and saw her dog, Sniffles, dig her seeds out of the garden. Her mystery was solved.

KINDERGARTEN - NARRATIVE 5

Colton Namie

Second Place Narrative Kindergarten Parkway Elementary School

Turner Smith

First Place - Poetry First Grade Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

“Surprise, Surprise” Surprise, surprise Open your eyes!

Surprise, surprise Now you can see your eyes!

You can see your arms And you can see your thigh But you can never see your eyes!

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GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

DAILY JOURNAL

KINDERGARTEN - POETRY 1

John-Rilee Drummond

First Place - Poetry Kindergarten Carver Elementary School “Football” Hard helmets, Big pads, Long fields, Brown football, Knee pads, My team wins!

3

Mylah Foster

Third Place - Poetry Kindergarten Carver Elementary School

Daddy, PawPaw, GranGran, Uncle Mark, Aunt Shannon, Will, Ana, Cole and Bella 2

Brayden McCullough

Second Place - Poetry Kindergarten Carver Elementary School

“Mr. Bug and Ted” A bug laid on his rug, He wanted a hug, The bug dug in his bed, Then he felt a tug on his head, He knew it was his friend Ted on the bed.

Great job, Brayden! We are so proud of you! We love you!

Mom, Dad, Kaylee, and Preston

|

3

“My Silly Monster and Me”

He has four eyes, six arms, and five legs. His favorite thing to wear is Scooby Doo pajamas. We love to go fishing, but he scares all the fish away.

He likes to eat garbage. I think that is gross! We love to tell each other funny jokes and laugh a lot.

I love my silly monster.

6

Brody Thompson

“The Cat With the Hat” My cat sat on a mat, Then she saw a bat, She wanted to chase the bat, But there was a fat rat.

She chased the rat into a hat.

4

Great job, John-Rilee! We love you!

FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

Claudia Wilson

First Place - Narrative Kindergarten Carver Elementary School

Third Place Narrative Kindergarten Mooreville Elementary School “The Inchworm”

It was a hot day. My dad took me fishing at the creek. We started fishing, and I was sitting by the water. Then I saw an inchworm crawling, so I put my hand near the worm. The worm started crawling on top of my hand. It felt fuzzy, and I liked it. It had a green and brown body. And then we put the worm in the grass by the creek. It was a fun day!

FIRST GRADE - POETRY 7

“The Mysterious Seeds”

Allie planted three seeds in her garden. She went to sleep and when she woke up, they were on her table. She was surprised. She wondered how they got there. She put the seeds back in the ground.

That night she stayed awake and saw her dog, Sniffles, dig her seeds out of the garden. Her mystery was solved.

KINDERGARTEN - NARRATIVE 5

Colton Namie

Second Place Narrative Kindergarten Parkway Elementary School

Turner Smith

First Place - Poetry First Grade Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

“Surprise, Surprise” Surprise, surprise Open your eyes!

Surprise, surprise Now you can see your eyes!

You can see your arms And you can see your thigh But you can never see your eyes!

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GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

DAILY JOURNAL

KINDERGARTEN - POETRY 1

John-Rilee Drummond

First Place - Poetry Kindergarten Carver Elementary School “Football” Hard helmets, Big pads, Long fields, Brown football, Knee pads, My team wins!

3

Mylah Foster

Third Place - Poetry Kindergarten Carver Elementary School

Daddy, PawPaw, GranGran, Uncle Mark, Aunt Shannon, Will, Ana, Cole and Bella 2

Brayden McCullough

Second Place - Poetry Kindergarten Carver Elementary School

“Mr. Bug and Ted” A bug laid on his rug, He wanted a hug, The bug dug in his bed, Then he felt a tug on his head, He knew it was his friend Ted on the bed.

Great job, Brayden! We are so proud of you! We love you!

Mom, Dad, Kaylee, and Preston

|

3

“My Silly Monster and Me”

He has four eyes, six arms, and five legs. His favorite thing to wear is Scooby Doo pajamas. We love to go fishing, but he scares all the fish away.

He likes to eat garbage. I think that is gross! We love to tell each other funny jokes and laugh a lot.

I love my silly monster.

6

Brody Thompson

“The Cat With the Hat” My cat sat on a mat, Then she saw a bat, She wanted to chase the bat, But there was a fat rat.

She chased the rat into a hat.

4

Great job, John-Rilee! We love you!

FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

Claudia Wilson

First Place - Narrative Kindergarten Carver Elementary School

Third Place Narrative Kindergarten Mooreville Elementary School “The Inchworm”

It was a hot day. My dad took me fishing at the creek. We started fishing, and I was sitting by the water. Then I saw an inchworm crawling, so I put my hand near the worm. The worm started crawling on top of my hand. It felt fuzzy, and I liked it. It had a green and brown body. And then we put the worm in the grass by the creek. It was a fun day!

FIRST GRADE - POETRY 7

“The Mysterious Seeds”

Allie planted three seeds in her garden. She went to sleep and when she woke up, they were on her table. She was surprised. She wondered how they got there. She put the seeds back in the ground.

That night she stayed awake and saw her dog, Sniffles, dig her seeds out of the garden. Her mystery was solved.

KINDERGARTEN - NARRATIVE 5

Colton Namie

Second Place Narrative Kindergarten Parkway Elementary School

Turner Smith

First Place - Poetry First Grade Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

“Surprise, Surprise” Surprise, surprise Open your eyes!

Surprise, surprise Now you can see your eyes!

You can see your arms And you can see your thigh But you can never see your eyes!

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GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

DAILY JOURNAL

GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

| FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

8 Kylie Byars Second Place - Poetry First Grade Parkway Elementary School

FIRST GRADE - NARRATIVE 10

Kabir Blake Gupta

Second Place Narrative First Grade Homeschool

“Bread and Butter”

I like bread and butter.

It makes me clutter.

It tastes divine.

It looks so fine.

Then I’ll go to bed with my milk.

We are so proud of you! We love you!

Momma & Daddy 9

Sophia Cervantes Third Place - Poetry First Grade Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

“Buy Me This”

Buy me this.

Buy me that.

Buy me a skate board.

Buy me a cat.

Buy me a dog.

Buy me a doll.

Buy me a dress.

Buy me a log.

Buy me a flower.

Buy me a bow.

Buy me an apple.

Buy me a hoe.

Congratulations, Sophia. We love you.

Granny & Granddaddy

Congratulations, Sophia.

We are so proud of you.

“My Special Home”

I love my home. There are lots of reasons why. I will now tell you about my home and why I love it. I will start outside. The house is made of maroon bricks. There is a patio. The roof of the house is made of black shingles. And, I love to play outside.

Now, we are going to the inside. To know which room to start in, look in the next paragraph.

Let’s start with the play area, where I love to play.

My favorite thing to do is to play with the train track. There are toy trains, too. I love reading. There are books everywhere in the house. I like to read in bed. In winter, I like reading in front of the fire.

Now let’s go upstairs. We have a tent in which we keep our stuffed toys. I have many favorites. I really like to meditate, and we do meditation every day.

And, we have a room just for meditation. I bet you would like that too!

Counting me, four people live in the house: I, my mom, my dad, and my little brother (Arjun). I love homeschool, and that’s because whenever I get tired, I get a break. When I get a break, I play with Arjun. If I have a very safe place, it is my home. I can trust everyone there, and everyone can trust me. When I am sick, there is only one place I want to go or stay. My home. I can read books. I can have snacks. I can watch T.V. I can do anything I want.

My home is a very happy home.

Congratulations, Kabir! We love you and are very proud of you.

DAILY JOURNAL

“My Family and the Dolphins”

For Spring Break, my family and I went to the Bahamas. The last day we swam with the dolphins.

The dolphins circled around us, and when they came to us…a WAVE came! And we got soaked.

We got to feel its fin and it was smooth. When we held its tail and wiggled its tail, it spit water out of its mouth. It was funny! The dolphin trainer told the dolphin to go, and then she flipped in the air. It was cool! When we acted like we were throwing a fishing rod and reeling it up, a dolphin made a sound. It was funny! My whole family got to kiss a dolphin! It was awkward because not many people kiss dolphins. I want to swim with dolphins again!

We are so proud of you, Thomas!

Keep up the good work.

Love, Mom, Dad and Celie 12

Knox Waterer

Third Place - Narrative First Grade Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

“Baseball”

When I was 6 years old, I was sitting in the batting cage. I was sitting and drinking water. When it was my turn to bat, I used all my strength and hit the baseball into the outfield. The Tank’s team touched the baseball. It went over the white line. I ran to the first base, second base, third base, and slid home. Everybody on my team gave me a high five. That was my home run when I was 6 years old.

I was so excited. I was nervous. JOY was jumping in my heart. That was my only home run in 2011. My dad was so impressed he let me have some ice cream and let me sit in the front seat. I had such as great time playing baseball.

Love, Arjun, Mama, Papa

SECOND GRADE - POETRY

11

13

Second PlaceNarrative First Grade Carver Elementary School

First Place - Poetry Second Grade Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

Thomas Rayburn

Anna Faith Bonds

Love, Daddy, Mommy, Chase & Sam

_________________________________________________Continued on Page 5

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4

GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

| FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

8 Kylie Byars Second Place - Poetry First Grade Parkway Elementary School

FIRST GRADE - NARRATIVE 10

Kabir Blake Gupta

Second Place Narrative First Grade Homeschool

“Bread and Butter”

I like bread and butter.

It makes me clutter.

It tastes divine.

It looks so fine.

Then I’ll go to bed with my milk.

We are so proud of you! We love you!

Momma & Daddy 9

Sophia Cervantes Third Place - Poetry First Grade Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

“Buy Me This”

Buy me this.

Buy me that.

Buy me a skate board.

Buy me a cat.

Buy me a dog.

Buy me a doll.

Buy me a dress.

Buy me a log.

Buy me a flower.

Buy me a bow.

Buy me an apple.

Buy me a hoe.

Congratulations, Sophia. We love you.

Granny & Granddaddy

Congratulations, Sophia.

We are so proud of you.

“My Special Home”

I love my home. There are lots of reasons why. I will now tell you about my home and why I love it. I will start outside. The house is made of maroon bricks. There is a patio. The roof of the house is made of black shingles. And, I love to play outside.

Now, we are going to the inside. To know which room to start in, look in the next paragraph.

Let’s start with the play area, where I love to play.

My favorite thing to do is to play with the train track. There are toy trains, too. I love reading. There are books everywhere in the house. I like to read in bed. In winter, I like reading in front of the fire.

Now let’s go upstairs. We have a tent in which we keep our stuffed toys. I have many favorites. I really like to meditate, and we do meditation every day.

And, we have a room just for meditation. I bet you would like that too!

Counting me, four people live in the house: I, my mom, my dad, and my little brother (Arjun). I love homeschool, and that’s because whenever I get tired, I get a break. When I get a break, I play with Arjun. If I have a very safe place, it is my home. I can trust everyone there, and everyone can trust me. When I am sick, there is only one place I want to go or stay. My home. I can read books. I can have snacks. I can watch T.V. I can do anything I want.

My home is a very happy home.

Congratulations, Kabir! We love you and are very proud of you.

DAILY JOURNAL

“My Family and the Dolphins”

For Spring Break, my family and I went to the Bahamas. The last day we swam with the dolphins.

The dolphins circled around us, and when they came to us…a WAVE came! And we got soaked.

We got to feel its fin and it was smooth. When we held its tail and wiggled its tail, it spit water out of its mouth. It was funny! The dolphin trainer told the dolphin to go, and then she flipped in the air. It was cool! When we acted like we were throwing a fishing rod and reeling it up, a dolphin made a sound. It was funny! My whole family got to kiss a dolphin! It was awkward because not many people kiss dolphins. I want to swim with dolphins again!

We are so proud of you, Thomas!

Keep up the good work.

Love, Mom, Dad and Celie 12

Knox Waterer

Third Place - Narrative First Grade Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

“Baseball”

When I was 6 years old, I was sitting in the batting cage. I was sitting and drinking water. When it was my turn to bat, I used all my strength and hit the baseball into the outfield. The Tank’s team touched the baseball. It went over the white line. I ran to the first base, second base, third base, and slid home. Everybody on my team gave me a high five. That was my home run when I was 6 years old.

I was so excited. I was nervous. JOY was jumping in my heart. That was my only home run in 2011. My dad was so impressed he let me have some ice cream and let me sit in the front seat. I had such as great time playing baseball.

Love, Arjun, Mama, Papa

SECOND GRADE - POETRY

11

13

Second PlaceNarrative First Grade Carver Elementary School

First Place - Poetry Second Grade Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

Thomas Rayburn

Anna Faith Bonds

Love, Daddy, Mommy, Chase & Sam

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4

GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

| FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

8 Kylie Byars Second Place - Poetry First Grade Parkway Elementary School

FIRST GRADE - NARRATIVE 10

Kabir Blake Gupta

Second Place Narrative First Grade Homeschool

“Bread and Butter”

I like bread and butter.

It makes me clutter.

It tastes divine.

It looks so fine.

Then I’ll go to bed with my milk.

We are so proud of you! We love you!

Momma & Daddy 9

Sophia Cervantes Third Place - Poetry First Grade Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

“Buy Me This”

Buy me this.

Buy me that.

Buy me a skate board.

Buy me a cat.

Buy me a dog.

Buy me a doll.

Buy me a dress.

Buy me a log.

Buy me a flower.

Buy me a bow.

Buy me an apple.

Buy me a hoe.

Congratulations, Sophia. We love you.

Granny & Granddaddy

Congratulations, Sophia.

We are so proud of you.

“My Special Home”

I love my home. There are lots of reasons why. I will now tell you about my home and why I love it. I will start outside. The house is made of maroon bricks. There is a patio. The roof of the house is made of black shingles. And, I love to play outside.

Now, we are going to the inside. To know which room to start in, look in the next paragraph.

Let’s start with the play area, where I love to play.

My favorite thing to do is to play with the train track. There are toy trains, too. I love reading. There are books everywhere in the house. I like to read in bed. In winter, I like reading in front of the fire.

Now let’s go upstairs. We have a tent in which we keep our stuffed toys. I have many favorites. I really like to meditate, and we do meditation every day.

And, we have a room just for meditation. I bet you would like that too!

Counting me, four people live in the house: I, my mom, my dad, and my little brother (Arjun). I love homeschool, and that’s because whenever I get tired, I get a break. When I get a break, I play with Arjun. If I have a very safe place, it is my home. I can trust everyone there, and everyone can trust me. When I am sick, there is only one place I want to go or stay. My home. I can read books. I can have snacks. I can watch T.V. I can do anything I want.

My home is a very happy home.

Congratulations, Kabir! We love you and are very proud of you.

DAILY JOURNAL

“My Family and the Dolphins”

For Spring Break, my family and I went to the Bahamas. The last day we swam with the dolphins.

The dolphins circled around us, and when they came to us…a WAVE came! And we got soaked.

We got to feel its fin and it was smooth. When we held its tail and wiggled its tail, it spit water out of its mouth. It was funny! The dolphin trainer told the dolphin to go, and then she flipped in the air. It was cool! When we acted like we were throwing a fishing rod and reeling it up, a dolphin made a sound. It was funny! My whole family got to kiss a dolphin! It was awkward because not many people kiss dolphins. I want to swim with dolphins again!

We are so proud of you, Thomas!

Keep up the good work.

Love, Mom, Dad and Celie 12

Knox Waterer

Third Place - Narrative First Grade Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

“Baseball”

When I was 6 years old, I was sitting in the batting cage. I was sitting and drinking water. When it was my turn to bat, I used all my strength and hit the baseball into the outfield. The Tank’s team touched the baseball. It went over the white line. I ran to the first base, second base, third base, and slid home. Everybody on my team gave me a high five. That was my home run when I was 6 years old.

I was so excited. I was nervous. JOY was jumping in my heart. That was my only home run in 2011. My dad was so impressed he let me have some ice cream and let me sit in the front seat. I had such as great time playing baseball.

Love, Arjun, Mama, Papa

SECOND GRADE - POETRY

11

13

Second PlaceNarrative First Grade Carver Elementary School

First Place - Poetry Second Grade Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

Thomas Rayburn

Anna Faith Bonds

Love, Daddy, Mommy, Chase & Sam

_________________________________________________Continued on Page 5

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4

“George the Hamster”

The hamster was cute and cuddly, Until he fell and got muddy.

He yelled with all his might.

It gave the people a fright.

Slowly George started to cry.

But soon a friendly person passed by.

He picked him up and washed him down.

And took him to his own little town.

He put him in his hamster cage.

Where he was never, ever afraid!

“Summer Fun”

My summer is never a bummer Because I go to the beach.

Underwater I see the colorful fish, But I’m too scared to reach them.

Sandcastles are fun to build.

But they always wash away.

So I wonder why I even build them.

Love, Mom, Dad, Madeline, B, Papa, Nanny and Gramps

The Hangout and Lulu’s are Places to go eat.

But you have to wait for a seat And that’s not really neat.

14

Oh how I wish I could take my friend and head to the beach right this second!

And forget about all these tests.

Congratulations! We are so proud of you!

Lauren Gail Bishop

Second Place - Poetry Second Grade Saltillo Primary School “Summer”

The sun was beaming down so warm on my face, It reminds me of God’s amazing grace.

Slipping, sliding, and swimming are so entertaining, I really hope it doesn’t start raining.

I love to be outside and swing, And also jumping on the trampoline.

The night has come and mom says it’s time to go inside, I can’t wait till the morning sun shall rise.

Congratulations to a wonderful little lady with a bright and shining future in front of her. We love you, Lauren Gail!

Will, Suzy and Nate 15

Caroline Harris

Third Place - Poetry Second Grade Thomas Street Elementary School

SECOND GRADE - NARRATIVE 16

Grace Morgan

First Place - Narrative Second Grade Thomas Street Elementary School

“The Rapunzel Experience”

One time, my family went to my great uncle and aunt’s old house for their wedding anniversary in Louisiana. I was playing in an upstairs bedroom. I slammed the door, and the door locked. The lock broke because it was antique. Uncle Danny worked on the door to get me out. Someone called the fire department. My mom and lots of other people were also outside the door. They were all talking loudly. I remember my mom saying, “Be quiet! My little girl is in there locked in this room, and I am trying to give her directions.” Then Uncle Danny decided to get a ladder to climb up to the roof. The roof was too steep, but my uncle remembered that painters had once used a mattress to stand on the roof. Then, I unlocked the window which was really hard. It was scary, but I got out. I was in there for two hours. The fire department came at the last minute, but it was too late. I was already out!

FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

|

5

17

Ruth Buskirk

Second Place Narrative Second Grade Lawhon Elementary School “The Wedding”

My sister was getting married. I could not believe it. I felt like I had been waiting forever for this day.

First, we got to our church and went to the bride’s room. The people did our hair and my sister’s makeup. It was so fun. It made me feel pretty. I played on the piano as I waited on the wedding to start. Then my mom called me over and said, “Ruth, it’s almost time to line up.” I felt so excited because I had been waiting for this day. It was finally time for the wedding to begin. I was so excited. My dad walked her down the aisle. I was crying a little. It was a sad and happy cry. Sad because she wouldn’t have our last name. Happy because she’s been waiting.

18

Jacob Berryhill

Third Place Narrative Second Grade Shannon Primary School “The Accident”

One Saturday afternoon, my sister, daddy, and momma went to McDonald’s. I ordered my happy meal and hurried to eat my cheeseburger so I could go play. I ran toward the pretend car. Suddenly, I started to fall. My head hit the bottom flat part of the yellow car. It hurt very bad. I felt like I was knocked out. I just laid there. My daddy grabbed napkins and started to wipe my head where the blood was. He helped me up, and we ran real fast to our truck and drove sort of kind of fast to the hospital. The doctor sewed my head up. I don’t remember most of that part. If you look close, you can still see the spot on my forehead.

_________________________________Messages for Jacob Berryhill on page 6

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GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

DAILY JOURNAL

“George the Hamster”

The hamster was cute and cuddly, Until he fell and got muddy.

He yelled with all his might.

It gave the people a fright.

Slowly George started to cry.

But soon a friendly person passed by.

He picked him up and washed him down.

And took him to his own little town.

He put him in his hamster cage.

Where he was never, ever afraid!

“Summer Fun”

My summer is never a bummer Because I go to the beach.

Underwater I see the colorful fish, But I’m too scared to reach them.

Sandcastles are fun to build.

But they always wash away.

So I wonder why I even build them.

Love, Mom, Dad, Madeline, B, Papa, Nanny and Gramps

The Hangout and Lulu’s are Places to go eat.

But you have to wait for a seat And that’s not really neat.

14

Oh how I wish I could take my friend and head to the beach right this second!

And forget about all these tests.

Congratulations! We are so proud of you!

Lauren Gail Bishop

Second Place - Poetry Second Grade Saltillo Primary School “Summer”

The sun was beaming down so warm on my face, It reminds me of God’s amazing grace.

Slipping, sliding, and swimming are so entertaining, I really hope it doesn’t start raining.

I love to be outside and swing, And also jumping on the trampoline.

The night has come and mom says it’s time to go inside, I can’t wait till the morning sun shall rise.

Congratulations to a wonderful little lady with a bright and shining future in front of her. We love you, Lauren Gail!

Will, Suzy and Nate 15

Caroline Harris

Third Place - Poetry Second Grade Thomas Street Elementary School

SECOND GRADE - NARRATIVE 16

Grace Morgan

First Place - Narrative Second Grade Thomas Street Elementary School

“The Rapunzel Experience”

One time, my family went to my great uncle and aunt’s old house for their wedding anniversary in Louisiana. I was playing in an upstairs bedroom. I slammed the door, and the door locked. The lock broke because it was antique. Uncle Danny worked on the door to get me out. Someone called the fire department. My mom and lots of other people were also outside the door. They were all talking loudly. I remember my mom saying, “Be quiet! My little girl is in there locked in this room, and I am trying to give her directions.” Then Uncle Danny decided to get a ladder to climb up to the roof. The roof was too steep, but my uncle remembered that painters had once used a mattress to stand on the roof. Then, I unlocked the window which was really hard. It was scary, but I got out. I was in there for two hours. The fire department came at the last minute, but it was too late. I was already out!

FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

|

5

17

Ruth Buskirk

Second Place Narrative Second Grade Lawhon Elementary School “The Wedding”

My sister was getting married. I could not believe it. I felt like I had been waiting forever for this day.

First, we got to our church and went to the bride’s room. The people did our hair and my sister’s makeup. It was so fun. It made me feel pretty. I played on the piano as I waited on the wedding to start. Then my mom called me over and said, “Ruth, it’s almost time to line up.” I felt so excited because I had been waiting for this day. It was finally time for the wedding to begin. I was so excited. My dad walked her down the aisle. I was crying a little. It was a sad and happy cry. Sad because she wouldn’t have our last name. Happy because she’s been waiting.

18

Jacob Berryhill

Third Place Narrative Second Grade Shannon Primary School “The Accident”

One Saturday afternoon, my sister, daddy, and momma went to McDonald’s. I ordered my happy meal and hurried to eat my cheeseburger so I could go play. I ran toward the pretend car. Suddenly, I started to fall. My head hit the bottom flat part of the yellow car. It hurt very bad. I felt like I was knocked out. I just laid there. My daddy grabbed napkins and started to wipe my head where the blood was. He helped me up, and we ran real fast to our truck and drove sort of kind of fast to the hospital. The doctor sewed my head up. I don’t remember most of that part. If you look close, you can still see the spot on my forehead.

_________________________________Messages for Jacob Berryhill on page 6

Document: A005DJS051013.eps;Page: 1;Format:(254.00 x 254.00 mm);Plate: Composite;Date: May 08, 2013 16:21:00;JPC 72 DPI

GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

DAILY JOURNAL

“George the Hamster”

The hamster was cute and cuddly, Until he fell and got muddy.

He yelled with all his might.

It gave the people a fright.

Slowly George started to cry.

But soon a friendly person passed by.

He picked him up and washed him down.

And took him to his own little town.

He put him in his hamster cage.

Where he was never, ever afraid!

“Summer Fun”

My summer is never a bummer Because I go to the beach.

Underwater I see the colorful fish, But I’m too scared to reach them.

Sandcastles are fun to build.

But they always wash away.

So I wonder why I even build them.

Love, Mom, Dad, Madeline, B, Papa, Nanny and Gramps

The Hangout and Lulu’s are Places to go eat.

But you have to wait for a seat And that’s not really neat.

14

Oh how I wish I could take my friend and head to the beach right this second!

And forget about all these tests.

Congratulations! We are so proud of you!

Lauren Gail Bishop

Second Place - Poetry Second Grade Saltillo Primary School “Summer”

The sun was beaming down so warm on my face, It reminds me of God’s amazing grace.

Slipping, sliding, and swimming are so entertaining, I really hope it doesn’t start raining.

I love to be outside and swing, And also jumping on the trampoline.

The night has come and mom says it’s time to go inside, I can’t wait till the morning sun shall rise.

Congratulations to a wonderful little lady with a bright and shining future in front of her. We love you, Lauren Gail!

Will, Suzy and Nate 15

Caroline Harris

Third Place - Poetry Second Grade Thomas Street Elementary School

SECOND GRADE - NARRATIVE 16

Grace Morgan

First Place - Narrative Second Grade Thomas Street Elementary School

“The Rapunzel Experience”

One time, my family went to my great uncle and aunt’s old house for their wedding anniversary in Louisiana. I was playing in an upstairs bedroom. I slammed the door, and the door locked. The lock broke because it was antique. Uncle Danny worked on the door to get me out. Someone called the fire department. My mom and lots of other people were also outside the door. They were all talking loudly. I remember my mom saying, “Be quiet! My little girl is in there locked in this room, and I am trying to give her directions.” Then Uncle Danny decided to get a ladder to climb up to the roof. The roof was too steep, but my uncle remembered that painters had once used a mattress to stand on the roof. Then, I unlocked the window which was really hard. It was scary, but I got out. I was in there for two hours. The fire department came at the last minute, but it was too late. I was already out!

FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

|

5

17

Ruth Buskirk

Second Place Narrative Second Grade Lawhon Elementary School “The Wedding”

My sister was getting married. I could not believe it. I felt like I had been waiting forever for this day.

First, we got to our church and went to the bride’s room. The people did our hair and my sister’s makeup. It was so fun. It made me feel pretty. I played on the piano as I waited on the wedding to start. Then my mom called me over and said, “Ruth, it’s almost time to line up.” I felt so excited because I had been waiting for this day. It was finally time for the wedding to begin. I was so excited. My dad walked her down the aisle. I was crying a little. It was a sad and happy cry. Sad because she wouldn’t have our last name. Happy because she’s been waiting.

18

Jacob Berryhill

Third Place Narrative Second Grade Shannon Primary School “The Accident”

One Saturday afternoon, my sister, daddy, and momma went to McDonald’s. I ordered my happy meal and hurried to eat my cheeseburger so I could go play. I ran toward the pretend car. Suddenly, I started to fall. My head hit the bottom flat part of the yellow car. It hurt very bad. I felt like I was knocked out. I just laid there. My daddy grabbed napkins and started to wipe my head where the blood was. He helped me up, and we ran real fast to our truck and drove sort of kind of fast to the hospital. The doctor sewed my head up. I don’t remember most of that part. If you look close, you can still see the spot on my forehead.

_________________________________Messages for Jacob Berryhill on page 6

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GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

DAILY JOURNAL

GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

| FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

Congratulations, Jacob! We are so proud of you, and we love you very much!

Love, Papaw & Nana

Congratulations, Jacob! We are very proud of you! We love you!

Daddy, Mama, Anna Marie & Kacy

THIRD GRADE - POETRY 19

Presley Weatherly

First Place - Poetry Third Grade Rankin Elementary School

“Multiplication Rocks”

I really like to multiply, I know my facts and that is why.

It makes things easier and shorter too I really like to multiply, do you?

Two plus two plus two is six But, two times three is really quick, Three plus three plus three is nine But, three times three is really fine, Four plus four plus four is twelve But, four times three is really swell.

I really like to multiply, I know my facts and that is why, I know them really, really well Now you can tell that I won’t fail.

We love you and are so proud of you!

Awesome job!

Love, Mom, Dad, Bishop, Nan and Papa

20

Bryson Burks

Second Place - Poetry Third Grade Saltillo Elementary School

“Friends”

Hello, my name is Greu, And this is my friend Roo. Who are you?

Is your name Drew, Cozomazoo, Or perhaps Dinasaroo?

What kinds of things do you like to do?

Fight a baboon?

Or ride a Sea Doo? What are some things we can learn about you?

Do you know Kung Fu? Do you have a Fu Man Chu? Have you ever had the flu?

Or maybe a bad booboo?

Where did you get that magnificent tutu?

Now that we have learned so much about you...

What would you like to do?

Go to the zoo?

Watch Winnie the Pooh?

Play with a kangaroo?

I’m glad I got to know you!

Congratulations, Bryson! We are so proud of you for trying new things! Keep up the good work! Always believe! We love you!

Mom, Dad & Wesley

Congratulations, Bryson! We’re proud of you! “In all thy ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct thy paths.”

(Proverbs 3:6).

DAILY JOURNAL

It’s exciting to measure in funny ways!

I like to discover angles on sunny days!

Addition is fun, you know it, You love addition, so show it!

Addition is good for your body and mind!

Go ahead, give it a try, no one will mind!

Subtraction is good; it’s easy to take away Subtraction is easy; now have a good day!

Now do you get it? Do you see?

One day you’ll be a pro like me!

Others may think it’s boring math, But I’d rather think it’s cool math!

Math is easy once you’re o.k. with it!

You just have to put a lot of work into it!

We are so proud of you, Ta’Nayiah. Keep up the good work!

Love, Mom, Torrance, and Taylor

THIRD GRADE - NARRATIVE 22

Taylor Sellars

First Place - Narrative Third Grade Saltillo Elementary School

Love, Mamaw & Papaw Burkes

God loved you before you were born, and we’ve loved you ever since. You always make us so proud!

Love, Mimi & Papaw Ronnie 21

Ta’Nayiah Hampton

Third Place - Poetry Third Grade Rankin Elementary School “Cool Math”

Others may thing it’s boring math, But I’d rather think it’s cool math!

“A Gum Tree”

Once there was a little girl that lived in an orchard. Her name was Jen. She was eight years old. In 2004, on a nice spring day, she went to play in the woods. Her parents bought an apple orchard so she grew up picking things from vines and trees and stuff like that. As I said, one day she was playing in the woods. While she was in the woods, she found out that her parents didn’t buy all the land.

She found another kind of tree, a gum tree. She picked a piece of gum leftover from someone’s words and chewed it while she was playing in the woods.

When it was time to go eat dinner, she spit out the gum so her parents wouldn’t ask her questions about the gum tree and ran all the way to the house. In the middle of the night, she snuck downstairs while her parents were asleep, went to her laptop, turned the volume all the way off, and looked up “Gum Trees” on Google. She found a website that had the perfect description on it. She ________________________________________________Continued on page 7

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6

GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

| FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

Congratulations, Jacob! We are so proud of you, and we love you very much!

Love, Papaw & Nana

Congratulations, Jacob! We are very proud of you! We love you!

Daddy, Mama, Anna Marie & Kacy

THIRD GRADE - POETRY 19

Presley Weatherly

First Place - Poetry Third Grade Rankin Elementary School

“Multiplication Rocks”

I really like to multiply, I know my facts and that is why.

It makes things easier and shorter too I really like to multiply, do you?

Two plus two plus two is six But, two times three is really quick, Three plus three plus three is nine But, three times three is really fine, Four plus four plus four is twelve But, four times three is really swell.

I really like to multiply, I know my facts and that is why, I know them really, really well Now you can tell that I won’t fail.

We love you and are so proud of you!

Awesome job!

Love, Mom, Dad, Bishop, Nan and Papa

20

Bryson Burks

Second Place - Poetry Third Grade Saltillo Elementary School

“Friends”

Hello, my name is Greu, And this is my friend Roo. Who are you?

Is your name Drew, Cozomazoo, Or perhaps Dinasaroo?

What kinds of things do you like to do?

Fight a baboon?

Or ride a Sea Doo? What are some things we can learn about you?

Do you know Kung Fu? Do you have a Fu Man Chu? Have you ever had the flu?

Or maybe a bad booboo?

Where did you get that magnificent tutu?

Now that we have learned so much about you...

What would you like to do?

Go to the zoo?

Watch Winnie the Pooh?

Play with a kangaroo?

I’m glad I got to know you!

Congratulations, Bryson! We are so proud of you for trying new things! Keep up the good work! Always believe! We love you!

Mom, Dad & Wesley

Congratulations, Bryson! We’re proud of you! “In all thy ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct thy paths.”

(Proverbs 3:6).

DAILY JOURNAL

It’s exciting to measure in funny ways!

I like to discover angles on sunny days!

Addition is fun, you know it, You love addition, so show it!

Addition is good for your body and mind!

Go ahead, give it a try, no one will mind!

Subtraction is good; it’s easy to take away Subtraction is easy; now have a good day!

Now do you get it? Do you see?

One day you’ll be a pro like me!

Others may think it’s boring math, But I’d rather think it’s cool math!

Math is easy once you’re o.k. with it!

You just have to put a lot of work into it!

We are so proud of you, Ta’Nayiah. Keep up the good work!

Love, Mom, Torrance, and Taylor

THIRD GRADE - NARRATIVE 22

Taylor Sellars

First Place - Narrative Third Grade Saltillo Elementary School

Love, Mamaw & Papaw Burkes

God loved you before you were born, and we’ve loved you ever since. You always make us so proud!

Love, Mimi & Papaw Ronnie 21

Ta’Nayiah Hampton

Third Place - Poetry Third Grade Rankin Elementary School “Cool Math”

Others may thing it’s boring math, But I’d rather think it’s cool math!

“A Gum Tree”

Once there was a little girl that lived in an orchard. Her name was Jen. She was eight years old. In 2004, on a nice spring day, she went to play in the woods. Her parents bought an apple orchard so she grew up picking things from vines and trees and stuff like that. As I said, one day she was playing in the woods. While she was in the woods, she found out that her parents didn’t buy all the land.

She found another kind of tree, a gum tree. She picked a piece of gum leftover from someone’s words and chewed it while she was playing in the woods.

When it was time to go eat dinner, she spit out the gum so her parents wouldn’t ask her questions about the gum tree and ran all the way to the house. In the middle of the night, she snuck downstairs while her parents were asleep, went to her laptop, turned the volume all the way off, and looked up “Gum Trees” on Google. She found a website that had the perfect description on it. She ________________________________________________Continued on page 7

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6

GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

| FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

Congratulations, Jacob! We are so proud of you, and we love you very much!

Love, Papaw & Nana

Congratulations, Jacob! We are very proud of you! We love you!

Daddy, Mama, Anna Marie & Kacy

THIRD GRADE - POETRY 19

Presley Weatherly

First Place - Poetry Third Grade Rankin Elementary School

“Multiplication Rocks”

I really like to multiply, I know my facts and that is why.

It makes things easier and shorter too I really like to multiply, do you?

Two plus two plus two is six But, two times three is really quick, Three plus three plus three is nine But, three times three is really fine, Four plus four plus four is twelve But, four times three is really swell.

I really like to multiply, I know my facts and that is why, I know them really, really well Now you can tell that I won’t fail.

We love you and are so proud of you!

Awesome job!

Love, Mom, Dad, Bishop, Nan and Papa

20

Bryson Burks

Second Place - Poetry Third Grade Saltillo Elementary School

“Friends”

Hello, my name is Greu, And this is my friend Roo. Who are you?

Is your name Drew, Cozomazoo, Or perhaps Dinasaroo?

What kinds of things do you like to do?

Fight a baboon?

Or ride a Sea Doo? What are some things we can learn about you?

Do you know Kung Fu? Do you have a Fu Man Chu? Have you ever had the flu?

Or maybe a bad booboo?

Where did you get that magnificent tutu?

Now that we have learned so much about you...

What would you like to do?

Go to the zoo?

Watch Winnie the Pooh?

Play with a kangaroo?

I’m glad I got to know you!

Congratulations, Bryson! We are so proud of you for trying new things! Keep up the good work! Always believe! We love you!

Mom, Dad & Wesley

Congratulations, Bryson! We’re proud of you! “In all thy ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct thy paths.”

(Proverbs 3:6).

DAILY JOURNAL

It’s exciting to measure in funny ways!

I like to discover angles on sunny days!

Addition is fun, you know it, You love addition, so show it!

Addition is good for your body and mind!

Go ahead, give it a try, no one will mind!

Subtraction is good; it’s easy to take away Subtraction is easy; now have a good day!

Now do you get it? Do you see?

One day you’ll be a pro like me!

Others may think it’s boring math, But I’d rather think it’s cool math!

Math is easy once you’re o.k. with it!

You just have to put a lot of work into it!

We are so proud of you, Ta’Nayiah. Keep up the good work!

Love, Mom, Torrance, and Taylor

THIRD GRADE - NARRATIVE 22

Taylor Sellars

First Place - Narrative Third Grade Saltillo Elementary School

Love, Mamaw & Papaw Burkes

God loved you before you were born, and we’ve loved you ever since. You always make us so proud!

Love, Mimi & Papaw Ronnie 21

Ta’Nayiah Hampton

Third Place - Poetry Third Grade Rankin Elementary School “Cool Math”

Others may thing it’s boring math, But I’d rather think it’s cool math!

“A Gum Tree”

Once there was a little girl that lived in an orchard. Her name was Jen. She was eight years old. In 2004, on a nice spring day, she went to play in the woods. Her parents bought an apple orchard so she grew up picking things from vines and trees and stuff like that. As I said, one day she was playing in the woods. While she was in the woods, she found out that her parents didn’t buy all the land.

She found another kind of tree, a gum tree. She picked a piece of gum leftover from someone’s words and chewed it while she was playing in the woods.

When it was time to go eat dinner, she spit out the gum so her parents wouldn’t ask her questions about the gum tree and ran all the way to the house. In the middle of the night, she snuck downstairs while her parents were asleep, went to her laptop, turned the volume all the way off, and looked up “Gum Trees” on Google. She found a website that had the perfect description on it. She ________________________________________________Continued on page 7

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6

printed it out and hoped it wouldn’t wake up her parents.

Here’s what the paper said: A Gum Tree is a very mystical and unique tree. It grows gum on it’s leaves. Any time of the day you can go outside and pick a lifetime supply of your favorite kind of gum.

To get your gum you have to say the words, “Gum, grow on leaves.” Then bubble gum will grow on the tree. If you want a different kind of gum, you say the kind you want. If you say “disco,” then one of every kind of gum will grow on the tree. Then you pick all of the gum, go inside, and chew each kind of gum you have. That’s a lot of gum, so maybe you could pick and chew half of the tree a day. But you don’t have to listen to me. You can take as long as you want. If you think you might forget how the gum tastes, just record your information on a chart.

Jen knew this would be easy because she started picking apples when she was three. Jen went back upstairs and climbed into bed. The next morning was Saturday. She didn’t know how she could sneak in all that gum, so she told her parents, took out what she had printed out last night, and took her parents to the tree. They believed her then.

She said “disco” and the gum popped out on the tree. Now they really believed her. They promised to keep the tree a secret. They never showed or told anyone who visited the orchard. They were the only ones who knew about it, and that’s how it stayed.

You make us so proud!! Your future is so bright! We love you, Taylor Love,Mom & Dad

Congratulations, Taylor!

Love,Mr. Wayne & Mrs. Patsy 23

Cameron Dean

Second Place Narrative Third Grade Saltillo Elementary School “Sneezy Cheesey”

Once upon a time, a boy in the 9th grade, Jimmy, got bullied. He was mad! He never wanted to get bullied ever again! Jimmy said, “I don’t like it at all.

I want them to stop, but I’d have to be a superhero in order for them to back off!” Jimmy went home that night. He thought he had left something in the attic. He went to the attic, opened the door, and

BAM! A rat popped out and bit him. He thought he was infected, but was not certain. He was hoping the rat bite would be so bad that he would not have to go to school the next day. Jimmy’s mom took him to the doctor, who thought it might be infected. He gave Jimmy some medicine and told him he could go to school.

On the way to school, Jimmy started to feel very strange. He knew something didn’t feel right.

While walking home from school, it was cloudy, raining, and dark. He sneezed but really could not see anything. Whatever he sneezed out of his nose was very sticky! At that moment, someone attacked him. He tried to block his punches, but the other guy’s hand got stuck to Jimmy’s sneezy, cheesey hand. Jimmy was able to flip the guy on his back and left him on the ground. Jimmy was amazed. He had super powers! No one would ever bully him again.

Jimmy went to school the next day. He was still very excited to learn he now had super powers. As he was walking to class, some of the mean kids that had bullied Jimmy started walking his way. He let out a big sneezy cheesey, and they got stuck to their lockers. It was hilarious!

On the news that night, Jimmy heard that there was a bank robber in town that had not been caught. Jimmy had not thought of using his newly discovered super powers on criminals. He was excited that he would be able to fight all types of crime. Jimmy went to the super store and bought a fire extinguisher, Spy Gear, and a special weapon.

Jimmy said to himself, “I’m going to catch that bank robber.”

Jimmy shot his cheese all the way to the roof top of a downtown building. The sneezy cheesey was so sticky that Jimmy was able to crawl all the way to the top of the building. He looked down, and at that moment, the robber came out of a bank with several bags of stolen money. The robber had on a ski mask, and Jimmy wondered who it was that could commit such a terrible crime. Jimmy aimed his sneezy cheesey sauce spy gun at the robber. It was a perfect shot! The robber stood still in a big pile of sticky sneezy cheesey. The police came and arrested the crook! Jimmy was so happy!

24

Crosby Clayton

FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

|

7

Bunny, but she had a contagious rash. She couldn’t decide if she should go, but she didn’t feel bad, so off she went in a flash.

April was in line to see the Easter Bunny. She was shaking so much she couldn’t even moooo. It was her turn! April was so excited she jumped in his arms and totally forgot about her rash. The Easter Bunny said, “What would you like for Easter?”

April replied, “Milk Duds and a Milky Way.” The next day the Easter Bunny was feeling very sick while on his way to work. Quitting his job today was unacceptable! After all, it was Easter. He happened to see April, so he asked her, “By any chance would you fill in for me as the Easter Bunny?” “I’d be glad to,” April replied. “When would you like me to start?” she asked. “Today, if you can.” April said, “I will do so.” April was thinking everyone would like some Milk Duds, Milky Ways, and maybe even a cow blanket.

That night April went out to deliver the gifts. Her first stop was at 10:00, so that meant she only had six hours to deliver gifts to every kid around the world. Three hours later she had only delivered to five houses. April realized that time was slipping very quickly. April started to panic. She was on her way to the next house. It was already 4:55 in the morning, and April had to be done by 5:00. There was no way she could deliver to the rest of the houses. She was leaving, and on her way out, she came eye to eye with one of the little children. The “Easter Cow” was revealed!

FOURTH GRADE - POETRY 25

Anna Mae Ramsey First Place - Poetry Fourth Grade Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

“Southern Food”

I live in the South, and it is great!

Southern food is not something I hate.

Third Place -Narrative Beans, peas, and of course, fried chicken, Third Grade Now that’s just a little bit of Southern livin’.

Lawhon Elementary Green beans, pound cake, and bar-b-que, School Yummy! Yummy! Y’all that’s so true.

“Easter in New York”

There once was a cow named April who lived in New York. She was on her way to see the Easter

I also love sweet potato pie, And a good hamburger, and maybe a fry. ________________________________________________Continued on page 8

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GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

DAILY JOURNAL

printed it out and hoped it wouldn’t wake up her parents.

Here’s what the paper said: A Gum Tree is a very mystical and unique tree. It grows gum on it’s leaves. Any time of the day you can go outside and pick a lifetime supply of your favorite kind of gum.

To get your gum you have to say the words, “Gum, grow on leaves.” Then bubble gum will grow on the tree. If you want a different kind of gum, you say the kind you want. If you say “disco,” then one of every kind of gum will grow on the tree. Then you pick all of the gum, go inside, and chew each kind of gum you have. That’s a lot of gum, so maybe you could pick and chew half of the tree a day. But you don’t have to listen to me. You can take as long as you want. If you think you might forget how the gum tastes, just record your information on a chart.

Jen knew this would be easy because she started picking apples when she was three. Jen went back upstairs and climbed into bed. The next morning was Saturday. She didn’t know how she could sneak in all that gum, so she told her parents, took out what she had printed out last night, and took her parents to the tree. They believed her then.

She said “disco” and the gum popped out on the tree. Now they really believed her. They promised to keep the tree a secret. They never showed or told anyone who visited the orchard. They were the only ones who knew about it, and that’s how it stayed.

You make us so proud!! Your future is so bright! We love you, Taylor Love,Mom & Dad

Congratulations, Taylor!

Love,Mr. Wayne & Mrs. Patsy 23

Cameron Dean

Second Place Narrative Third Grade Saltillo Elementary School “Sneezy Cheesey”

Once upon a time, a boy in the 9th grade, Jimmy, got bullied. He was mad! He never wanted to get bullied ever again! Jimmy said, “I don’t like it at all.

I want them to stop, but I’d have to be a superhero in order for them to back off!” Jimmy went home that night. He thought he had left something in the attic. He went to the attic, opened the door, and

BAM! A rat popped out and bit him. He thought he was infected, but was not certain. He was hoping the rat bite would be so bad that he would not have to go to school the next day. Jimmy’s mom took him to the doctor, who thought it might be infected. He gave Jimmy some medicine and told him he could go to school.

On the way to school, Jimmy started to feel very strange. He knew something didn’t feel right.

While walking home from school, it was cloudy, raining, and dark. He sneezed but really could not see anything. Whatever he sneezed out of his nose was very sticky! At that moment, someone attacked him. He tried to block his punches, but the other guy’s hand got stuck to Jimmy’s sneezy, cheesey hand. Jimmy was able to flip the guy on his back and left him on the ground. Jimmy was amazed. He had super powers! No one would ever bully him again.

Jimmy went to school the next day. He was still very excited to learn he now had super powers. As he was walking to class, some of the mean kids that had bullied Jimmy started walking his way. He let out a big sneezy cheesey, and they got stuck to their lockers. It was hilarious!

On the news that night, Jimmy heard that there was a bank robber in town that had not been caught. Jimmy had not thought of using his newly discovered super powers on criminals. He was excited that he would be able to fight all types of crime. Jimmy went to the super store and bought a fire extinguisher, Spy Gear, and a special weapon.

Jimmy said to himself, “I’m going to catch that bank robber.”

Jimmy shot his cheese all the way to the roof top of a downtown building. The sneezy cheesey was so sticky that Jimmy was able to crawl all the way to the top of the building. He looked down, and at that moment, the robber came out of a bank with several bags of stolen money. The robber had on a ski mask, and Jimmy wondered who it was that could commit such a terrible crime. Jimmy aimed his sneezy cheesey sauce spy gun at the robber. It was a perfect shot! The robber stood still in a big pile of sticky sneezy cheesey. The police came and arrested the crook! Jimmy was so happy!

24

Crosby Clayton

FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

|

7

Bunny, but she had a contagious rash. She couldn’t decide if she should go, but she didn’t feel bad, so off she went in a flash.

April was in line to see the Easter Bunny. She was shaking so much she couldn’t even moooo. It was her turn! April was so excited she jumped in his arms and totally forgot about her rash. The Easter Bunny said, “What would you like for Easter?”

April replied, “Milk Duds and a Milky Way.” The next day the Easter Bunny was feeling very sick while on his way to work. Quitting his job today was unacceptable! After all, it was Easter. He happened to see April, so he asked her, “By any chance would you fill in for me as the Easter Bunny?” “I’d be glad to,” April replied. “When would you like me to start?” she asked. “Today, if you can.” April said, “I will do so.” April was thinking everyone would like some Milk Duds, Milky Ways, and maybe even a cow blanket.

That night April went out to deliver the gifts. Her first stop was at 10:00, so that meant she only had six hours to deliver gifts to every kid around the world. Three hours later she had only delivered to five houses. April realized that time was slipping very quickly. April started to panic. She was on her way to the next house. It was already 4:55 in the morning, and April had to be done by 5:00. There was no way she could deliver to the rest of the houses. She was leaving, and on her way out, she came eye to eye with one of the little children. The “Easter Cow” was revealed!

FOURTH GRADE - POETRY 25

Anna Mae Ramsey First Place - Poetry Fourth Grade Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

“Southern Food”

I live in the South, and it is great!

Southern food is not something I hate.

Third Place -Narrative Beans, peas, and of course, fried chicken, Third Grade Now that’s just a little bit of Southern livin’.

Lawhon Elementary Green beans, pound cake, and bar-b-que, School Yummy! Yummy! Y’all that’s so true.

“Easter in New York”

There once was a cow named April who lived in New York. She was on her way to see the Easter

I also love sweet potato pie, And a good hamburger, and maybe a fry. ________________________________________________Continued on page 8

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GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

DAILY JOURNAL

printed it out and hoped it wouldn’t wake up her parents.

Here’s what the paper said: A Gum Tree is a very mystical and unique tree. It grows gum on it’s leaves. Any time of the day you can go outside and pick a lifetime supply of your favorite kind of gum.

To get your gum you have to say the words, “Gum, grow on leaves.” Then bubble gum will grow on the tree. If you want a different kind of gum, you say the kind you want. If you say “disco,” then one of every kind of gum will grow on the tree. Then you pick all of the gum, go inside, and chew each kind of gum you have. That’s a lot of gum, so maybe you could pick and chew half of the tree a day. But you don’t have to listen to me. You can take as long as you want. If you think you might forget how the gum tastes, just record your information on a chart.

Jen knew this would be easy because she started picking apples when she was three. Jen went back upstairs and climbed into bed. The next morning was Saturday. She didn’t know how she could sneak in all that gum, so she told her parents, took out what she had printed out last night, and took her parents to the tree. They believed her then.

She said “disco” and the gum popped out on the tree. Now they really believed her. They promised to keep the tree a secret. They never showed or told anyone who visited the orchard. They were the only ones who knew about it, and that’s how it stayed.

You make us so proud!! Your future is so bright! We love you, Taylor Love,Mom & Dad

Congratulations, Taylor!

Love,Mr. Wayne & Mrs. Patsy 23

Cameron Dean

Second Place Narrative Third Grade Saltillo Elementary School “Sneezy Cheesey”

Once upon a time, a boy in the 9th grade, Jimmy, got bullied. He was mad! He never wanted to get bullied ever again! Jimmy said, “I don’t like it at all.

I want them to stop, but I’d have to be a superhero in order for them to back off!” Jimmy went home that night. He thought he had left something in the attic. He went to the attic, opened the door, and

BAM! A rat popped out and bit him. He thought he was infected, but was not certain. He was hoping the rat bite would be so bad that he would not have to go to school the next day. Jimmy’s mom took him to the doctor, who thought it might be infected. He gave Jimmy some medicine and told him he could go to school.

On the way to school, Jimmy started to feel very strange. He knew something didn’t feel right.

While walking home from school, it was cloudy, raining, and dark. He sneezed but really could not see anything. Whatever he sneezed out of his nose was very sticky! At that moment, someone attacked him. He tried to block his punches, but the other guy’s hand got stuck to Jimmy’s sneezy, cheesey hand. Jimmy was able to flip the guy on his back and left him on the ground. Jimmy was amazed. He had super powers! No one would ever bully him again.

Jimmy went to school the next day. He was still very excited to learn he now had super powers. As he was walking to class, some of the mean kids that had bullied Jimmy started walking his way. He let out a big sneezy cheesey, and they got stuck to their lockers. It was hilarious!

On the news that night, Jimmy heard that there was a bank robber in town that had not been caught. Jimmy had not thought of using his newly discovered super powers on criminals. He was excited that he would be able to fight all types of crime. Jimmy went to the super store and bought a fire extinguisher, Spy Gear, and a special weapon.

Jimmy said to himself, “I’m going to catch that bank robber.”

Jimmy shot his cheese all the way to the roof top of a downtown building. The sneezy cheesey was so sticky that Jimmy was able to crawl all the way to the top of the building. He looked down, and at that moment, the robber came out of a bank with several bags of stolen money. The robber had on a ski mask, and Jimmy wondered who it was that could commit such a terrible crime. Jimmy aimed his sneezy cheesey sauce spy gun at the robber. It was a perfect shot! The robber stood still in a big pile of sticky sneezy cheesey. The police came and arrested the crook! Jimmy was so happy!

24

Crosby Clayton

FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

|

7

Bunny, but she had a contagious rash. She couldn’t decide if she should go, but she didn’t feel bad, so off she went in a flash.

April was in line to see the Easter Bunny. She was shaking so much she couldn’t even moooo. It was her turn! April was so excited she jumped in his arms and totally forgot about her rash. The Easter Bunny said, “What would you like for Easter?”

April replied, “Milk Duds and a Milky Way.” The next day the Easter Bunny was feeling very sick while on his way to work. Quitting his job today was unacceptable! After all, it was Easter. He happened to see April, so he asked her, “By any chance would you fill in for me as the Easter Bunny?” “I’d be glad to,” April replied. “When would you like me to start?” she asked. “Today, if you can.” April said, “I will do so.” April was thinking everyone would like some Milk Duds, Milky Ways, and maybe even a cow blanket.

That night April went out to deliver the gifts. Her first stop was at 10:00, so that meant she only had six hours to deliver gifts to every kid around the world. Three hours later she had only delivered to five houses. April realized that time was slipping very quickly. April started to panic. She was on her way to the next house. It was already 4:55 in the morning, and April had to be done by 5:00. There was no way she could deliver to the rest of the houses. She was leaving, and on her way out, she came eye to eye with one of the little children. The “Easter Cow” was revealed!

FOURTH GRADE - POETRY 25

Anna Mae Ramsey First Place - Poetry Fourth Grade Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

“Southern Food”

I live in the South, and it is great!

Southern food is not something I hate.

Third Place -Narrative Beans, peas, and of course, fried chicken, Third Grade Now that’s just a little bit of Southern livin’.

Lawhon Elementary Green beans, pound cake, and bar-b-que, School Yummy! Yummy! Y’all that’s so true.

“Easter in New York”

There once was a cow named April who lived in New York. She was on her way to see the Easter

I also love sweet potato pie, And a good hamburger, and maybe a fry. ________________________________________________Continued on page 8

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GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

DAILY JOURNAL

GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

| FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

Eatin’ slow runny ‘lasses and biscuits that are homemade, Holding hands together as we bow our heads to pray.

I hope y’all love our DELICIOUS food, Everybody’s welcome here, especially you!

Congratulations, Anna Mae, on your prize winning poem. We are proud of you and love you so very much!

Love,Daddy, Mommy, Johnson and Jake Franklin

Congratulations, Anna Mae! We are happy your poem won 1st place.

Love,Mr. Wayne & Mrs. Patsy 26

Reid Tate

Second Place - Poetry Fourth Grade Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

“Lebron James”

Lebron James scores a free throw, That’s why he is a basketball pro!

Lebron goes up the court and shoots a three!

I’m sure that was a sight to see.

His height is 6 foot 4, He made the final score!

He plays for the Miami Heat, He doesn’t like to get beat.

Lebron wins the game MVP! The whole crowd goes, “Yippee!”

After the game, Lebron’s teammates congratulate their friend.

What a great way for the game to end!

Congratulations, Reid! We are so proud of you! We love you!

Mom, Dad, Lauren, Gran Gran, Grandmother, and Nina

27

Ashley Wicker

Third Place - Poetry Fourth Grade Rankin Elementary School

“Our Big Tree”

In our backyard stands a tree We swing and hang from it My sister and me This tree is so tall It looks like it’s scraping the sky.

But every autumn the leaves fall off and die The tree begins to look so naked and Torn It looks like it’s missed us And it’s beginning to Mourn.

When summer comes, the tree is so Bushy and green.

It looks so inviting I grab an old T-shirt and jeans.

I swing for hours at a time Soon I forget this old tree is mine I love this old tree Where I play and have fun But soon it gets dark The fun is all done.

There in my bed I lay waiting Dreaming about the next day I love our old tree I am so glad It will always be in our family.

FOURTH GRADE - NARRATIVE 28

Brenna Smith

First Place -Narrative Fourth Grade Saltillo Elementary School

DAILY JOURNAL

“An Adventure in the Woods”

My grandparent’s house is surrounded by 180 acres of trees. The trees on my grandparent’s land are colossal oaks. They are so big that when my Pawpaw puts his arms around a tree, his fingers don’t touch. He calls that “hugging a tree.” There is a little creek that flows through those woods. The creek has such pretty water. You can see right through it. Its water feels so cool and refreshing.

One summer, I was going to my grandparent’s house for the day. I thought, if I asked nicely, Pawpaw might take us on a walk through the woods. When I got there, all of my cousins and I asked Pawpaw if he’d take us, and he said yes! My 6 cousins and I were very excited. We rushed Pawpaw out the door and followed him through the woods.

During the first few minutes of our trip, we ran into lots of thorns. I did a good job helping my smaller cousins avoid them, but I got many scratches because I was wearing thin yoga pants. I got two enormous scratches on my right knee cap, and a smaller one on the back of my right hand. Then, the thorns started to clear up. I started to hear the sound of flowing water. I thought it must be the creek! We kept walking. I was anxious because I hadn’t seen the creek in a long time, and I couldn’t remember what it was like. Finally, we walked through a clearing and saw the beautiful creek. I took a step closer to get a better look. Something caught my eye. It was slithering and green... a snake! I jumped back quickly. My cousins did the same. Pawpaw looked at it and told us that it wasn’t poisonous, but a snake is a snake. I turned around and started walking back to the house. We were about halfway back when one of my cousins told us that he found a skull of an animal. Pawpaw told us that it was a skull of a deer. When we got back to the house, I was exhausted. I went home without complaint, even though I’d had a wonderful and exciting day.

We are so proud of you!!

Love,Mom, Dad, Isaac, Gaga, Papaw and Nana 29 Jordyn Smith Second Place Narrative Fourth Grade Rankin Elementary School

“Why We Should Stop Bullying”

Bullying awareness has made students more conscious about the way they treat one another. ________________________________________________Continued on page 9

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8

GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

| FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

Eatin’ slow runny ‘lasses and biscuits that are homemade, Holding hands together as we bow our heads to pray.

I hope y’all love our DELICIOUS food, Everybody’s welcome here, especially you!

Congratulations, Anna Mae, on your prize winning poem. We are proud of you and love you so very much!

Love,Daddy, Mommy, Johnson and Jake Franklin

Congratulations, Anna Mae! We are happy your poem won 1st place.

Love,Mr. Wayne & Mrs. Patsy 26

Reid Tate

Second Place - Poetry Fourth Grade Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

“Lebron James”

Lebron James scores a free throw, That’s why he is a basketball pro!

Lebron goes up the court and shoots a three!

I’m sure that was a sight to see.

His height is 6 foot 4, He made the final score!

He plays for the Miami Heat, He doesn’t like to get beat.

Lebron wins the game MVP! The whole crowd goes, “Yippee!”

After the game, Lebron’s teammates congratulate their friend.

What a great way for the game to end!

Congratulations, Reid! We are so proud of you! We love you!

Mom, Dad, Lauren, Gran Gran, Grandmother, and Nina

27

Ashley Wicker

Third Place - Poetry Fourth Grade Rankin Elementary School

“Our Big Tree”

In our backyard stands a tree We swing and hang from it My sister and me This tree is so tall It looks like it’s scraping the sky.

But every autumn the leaves fall off and die The tree begins to look so naked and Torn It looks like it’s missed us And it’s beginning to Mourn.

When summer comes, the tree is so Bushy and green.

It looks so inviting I grab an old T-shirt and jeans.

I swing for hours at a time Soon I forget this old tree is mine I love this old tree Where I play and have fun But soon it gets dark The fun is all done.

There in my bed I lay waiting Dreaming about the next day I love our old tree I am so glad It will always be in our family.

FOURTH GRADE - NARRATIVE 28

Brenna Smith

First Place -Narrative Fourth Grade Saltillo Elementary School

DAILY JOURNAL

“An Adventure in the Woods”

My grandparent’s house is surrounded by 180 acres of trees. The trees on my grandparent’s land are colossal oaks. They are so big that when my Pawpaw puts his arms around a tree, his fingers don’t touch. He calls that “hugging a tree.” There is a little creek that flows through those woods. The creek has such pretty water. You can see right through it. Its water feels so cool and refreshing.

One summer, I was going to my grandparent’s house for the day. I thought, if I asked nicely, Pawpaw might take us on a walk through the woods. When I got there, all of my cousins and I asked Pawpaw if he’d take us, and he said yes! My 6 cousins and I were very excited. We rushed Pawpaw out the door and followed him through the woods.

During the first few minutes of our trip, we ran into lots of thorns. I did a good job helping my smaller cousins avoid them, but I got many scratches because I was wearing thin yoga pants. I got two enormous scratches on my right knee cap, and a smaller one on the back of my right hand. Then, the thorns started to clear up. I started to hear the sound of flowing water. I thought it must be the creek! We kept walking. I was anxious because I hadn’t seen the creek in a long time, and I couldn’t remember what it was like. Finally, we walked through a clearing and saw the beautiful creek. I took a step closer to get a better look. Something caught my eye. It was slithering and green... a snake! I jumped back quickly. My cousins did the same. Pawpaw looked at it and told us that it wasn’t poisonous, but a snake is a snake. I turned around and started walking back to the house. We were about halfway back when one of my cousins told us that he found a skull of an animal. Pawpaw told us that it was a skull of a deer. When we got back to the house, I was exhausted. I went home without complaint, even though I’d had a wonderful and exciting day.

We are so proud of you!!

Love,Mom, Dad, Isaac, Gaga, Papaw and Nana 29 Jordyn Smith Second Place Narrative Fourth Grade Rankin Elementary School

“Why We Should Stop Bullying”

Bullying awareness has made students more conscious about the way they treat one another. ________________________________________________Continued on page 9

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8

GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

| FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

Eatin’ slow runny ‘lasses and biscuits that are homemade, Holding hands together as we bow our heads to pray.

I hope y’all love our DELICIOUS food, Everybody’s welcome here, especially you!

Congratulations, Anna Mae, on your prize winning poem. We are proud of you and love you so very much!

Love,Daddy, Mommy, Johnson and Jake Franklin

Congratulations, Anna Mae! We are happy your poem won 1st place.

Love,Mr. Wayne & Mrs. Patsy 26

Reid Tate

Second Place - Poetry Fourth Grade Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

“Lebron James”

Lebron James scores a free throw, That’s why he is a basketball pro!

Lebron goes up the court and shoots a three!

I’m sure that was a sight to see.

His height is 6 foot 4, He made the final score!

He plays for the Miami Heat, He doesn’t like to get beat.

Lebron wins the game MVP! The whole crowd goes, “Yippee!”

After the game, Lebron’s teammates congratulate their friend.

What a great way for the game to end!

Congratulations, Reid! We are so proud of you! We love you!

Mom, Dad, Lauren, Gran Gran, Grandmother, and Nina

27

Ashley Wicker

Third Place - Poetry Fourth Grade Rankin Elementary School

“Our Big Tree”

In our backyard stands a tree We swing and hang from it My sister and me This tree is so tall It looks like it’s scraping the sky.

But every autumn the leaves fall off and die The tree begins to look so naked and Torn It looks like it’s missed us And it’s beginning to Mourn.

When summer comes, the tree is so Bushy and green.

It looks so inviting I grab an old T-shirt and jeans.

I swing for hours at a time Soon I forget this old tree is mine I love this old tree Where I play and have fun But soon it gets dark The fun is all done.

There in my bed I lay waiting Dreaming about the next day I love our old tree I am so glad It will always be in our family.

FOURTH GRADE - NARRATIVE 28

Brenna Smith

First Place -Narrative Fourth Grade Saltillo Elementary School

DAILY JOURNAL

“An Adventure in the Woods”

My grandparent’s house is surrounded by 180 acres of trees. The trees on my grandparent’s land are colossal oaks. They are so big that when my Pawpaw puts his arms around a tree, his fingers don’t touch. He calls that “hugging a tree.” There is a little creek that flows through those woods. The creek has such pretty water. You can see right through it. Its water feels so cool and refreshing.

One summer, I was going to my grandparent’s house for the day. I thought, if I asked nicely, Pawpaw might take us on a walk through the woods. When I got there, all of my cousins and I asked Pawpaw if he’d take us, and he said yes! My 6 cousins and I were very excited. We rushed Pawpaw out the door and followed him through the woods.

During the first few minutes of our trip, we ran into lots of thorns. I did a good job helping my smaller cousins avoid them, but I got many scratches because I was wearing thin yoga pants. I got two enormous scratches on my right knee cap, and a smaller one on the back of my right hand. Then, the thorns started to clear up. I started to hear the sound of flowing water. I thought it must be the creek! We kept walking. I was anxious because I hadn’t seen the creek in a long time, and I couldn’t remember what it was like. Finally, we walked through a clearing and saw the beautiful creek. I took a step closer to get a better look. Something caught my eye. It was slithering and green... a snake! I jumped back quickly. My cousins did the same. Pawpaw looked at it and told us that it wasn’t poisonous, but a snake is a snake. I turned around and started walking back to the house. We were about halfway back when one of my cousins told us that he found a skull of an animal. Pawpaw told us that it was a skull of a deer. When we got back to the house, I was exhausted. I went home without complaint, even though I’d had a wonderful and exciting day.

We are so proud of you!!

Love,Mom, Dad, Isaac, Gaga, Papaw and Nana 29 Jordyn Smith Second Place Narrative Fourth Grade Rankin Elementary School

“Why We Should Stop Bullying”

Bullying awareness has made students more conscious about the way they treat one another. ________________________________________________Continued on page 9

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8

Although more people are living by the, “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you” rule, we are still far from perfect. Bullying is still a problem that most of us will experience at least once, but it should be stopped for good and there are many reasons why.

One of the most important reasons bullying should come to an end is that it can sometimes cause people to be physically hurt. Several months ago at recess, this very thing happened to my best friend. While she was getting ready to take her turn on the swings another boy decided he wanted the same swing, although he didn’t wait his turn. Even though the boy decided to wait his turn, his three friends let their anger get the best of them and pushed my best friend really hard. It just so happened that a girl on another swing was going really high and kicked her in the nose really hard.

Another reason bullying is not a good choice of behavior is the consequences that follow. All because of that one bad decision those boys made, they got in big trouble. Maybe they’ll think twice about doing it next time. Too bad they had to learn the hard way.

One more reason to stop bullying is the impact it has on the person that was bullied. It hurt my best friend’s feelings that somebody would do that to her, or anyone for that matter. Sometimes, in other situations, it can really hurt the person’s selfesteem.

No matter which way bullying is looked at, it is a terrible thing. The consequences it leaves with the bullies and the impact it leaves with the victims has a lasting effect. One bad action can hurt so many people. We should all think before we do.

Congratulations on your wonderful story and your success! Your compassion is inspiring! We love you and are so proud to share this accomplishment with you, as well as the many more your future holds!

Love, your family 30

Teiryn Fellows Nichols

with plenty of kids and a bunch of woods behind the new wooden fence. The house had just been built. It had an escalator and an HD 80n inch plasma TV that costs $1089.43 plus tax.

So when my brother, Jackson, and I came over we opened the fence door. It creaked, then we moved on. About a minute later, we stumbled upon a little creek. It was as sparkly as diamonds in a cave with a splash of sunlight. We found a couple of big stones to help us hop across the small creek and so we went on. Soon, we saw a small lizard. I picked it up and thought about its great adventures and my great adventure that I was having. So I set it back down on a log and went on.

I told my brother that it was getting dark and our mommy said be back before dark. So I told him we had to turn around and go home, but that we could continue our journey tomorrow. So we got home and got in our pj’s and went to bed. That’s about the story of the time my brother and me went on an adventure.

FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

|

9

I know I have to wait until after the MCT, But summertime makes me go “wheeeee!”

This poem has come to an end, But summertime will soon begin.

Congratulations, Eli! You make us so proud.

Mamaw & Papaw Smart, Uncle Lonnie, Gracie & Sophie 32

Mary Blake Brashier

Second Place - Poetry Fifth Grade Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

FIFTH GRADE - POETRY 31 Eli Smart First Place - Poetry Fifth Grade Pierce Street Elementary School

“Summertime”

Summertime, summertime, Somebody sound my summer chime.

You must be quite a fool, Not to be happy, we’re out of school.

Going to daycare, seeing my friends, I know our friendship will never end.

Rarely-seen friends, everyday friends, Our good old friendship never needs amend.

Learning, that’s the best thing yet.

But talking about schoolwork gives me sweat.

I’m very glad to get away from it all, I mean, it’s summertime, break awhile.

Third Place -Narrative Fourth Grade Going to the pool is my favorite, It being summer, I must savor it.

Saltillo Elementary Going to the pool with my friends, School

“Books”

Books will seem so boring To those who judge the outside.

But when you start the story, You will see the fun side!

A book can be a novel, a story, A fairy tale.

A book can be anything, Even a tall tale!

The words inside will pull you in To an amazing place.

You float and flutter through The books with lots and lots of grace.

Roald Dahl and Dr. Seuss, C.S. Lewis, too.

These are some of the authors Who just might interest you!

33

Will Sandroni

Third Place - Poetry Fifth Grade Pierce Street Elementary School

Splish, splash, it’s in the wind.

“I Went Sightseeing”

I once had to go to my Grammy’s for a holiday break after she moved into her new house. It was really fun because she moved to a neighborhood

Seeing my friends very little, I’m not going to show off playing a fiddle!

Play our Ipads, talking away, I just can’t wait ‘till after May.

“Summer”

Summer is my favorite season I can give you many reasons

_______________________________________________Continued on page 10

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GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

DAILY JOURNAL

Although more people are living by the, “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you” rule, we are still far from perfect. Bullying is still a problem that most of us will experience at least once, but it should be stopped for good and there are many reasons why.

One of the most important reasons bullying should come to an end is that it can sometimes cause people to be physically hurt. Several months ago at recess, this very thing happened to my best friend. While she was getting ready to take her turn on the swings another boy decided he wanted the same swing, although he didn’t wait his turn. Even though the boy decided to wait his turn, his three friends let their anger get the best of them and pushed my best friend really hard. It just so happened that a girl on another swing was going really high and kicked her in the nose really hard.

Another reason bullying is not a good choice of behavior is the consequences that follow. All because of that one bad decision those boys made, they got in big trouble. Maybe they’ll think twice about doing it next time. Too bad they had to learn the hard way.

One more reason to stop bullying is the impact it has on the person that was bullied. It hurt my best friend’s feelings that somebody would do that to her, or anyone for that matter. Sometimes, in other situations, it can really hurt the person’s selfesteem.

No matter which way bullying is looked at, it is a terrible thing. The consequences it leaves with the bullies and the impact it leaves with the victims has a lasting effect. One bad action can hurt so many people. We should all think before we do.

Congratulations on your wonderful story and your success! Your compassion is inspiring! We love you and are so proud to share this accomplishment with you, as well as the many more your future holds!

Love, your family 30

Teiryn Fellows Nichols

with plenty of kids and a bunch of woods behind the new wooden fence. The house had just been built. It had an escalator and an HD 80n inch plasma TV that costs $1089.43 plus tax.

So when my brother, Jackson, and I came over we opened the fence door. It creaked, then we moved on. About a minute later, we stumbled upon a little creek. It was as sparkly as diamonds in a cave with a splash of sunlight. We found a couple of big stones to help us hop across the small creek and so we went on. Soon, we saw a small lizard. I picked it up and thought about its great adventures and my great adventure that I was having. So I set it back down on a log and went on.

I told my brother that it was getting dark and our mommy said be back before dark. So I told him we had to turn around and go home, but that we could continue our journey tomorrow. So we got home and got in our pj’s and went to bed. That’s about the story of the time my brother and me went on an adventure.

FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

|

9

I know I have to wait until after the MCT, But summertime makes me go “wheeeee!”

This poem has come to an end, But summertime will soon begin.

Congratulations, Eli! You make us so proud.

Mamaw & Papaw Smart, Uncle Lonnie, Gracie & Sophie 32

Mary Blake Brashier

Second Place - Poetry Fifth Grade Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

FIFTH GRADE - POETRY 31 Eli Smart First Place - Poetry Fifth Grade Pierce Street Elementary School

“Summertime”

Summertime, summertime, Somebody sound my summer chime.

You must be quite a fool, Not to be happy, we’re out of school.

Going to daycare, seeing my friends, I know our friendship will never end.

Rarely-seen friends, everyday friends, Our good old friendship never needs amend.

Learning, that’s the best thing yet.

But talking about schoolwork gives me sweat.

I’m very glad to get away from it all, I mean, it’s summertime, break awhile.

Third Place -Narrative Fourth Grade Going to the pool is my favorite, It being summer, I must savor it.

Saltillo Elementary Going to the pool with my friends, School

“Books”

Books will seem so boring To those who judge the outside.

But when you start the story, You will see the fun side!

A book can be a novel, a story, A fairy tale.

A book can be anything, Even a tall tale!

The words inside will pull you in To an amazing place.

You float and flutter through The books with lots and lots of grace.

Roald Dahl and Dr. Seuss, C.S. Lewis, too.

These are some of the authors Who just might interest you!

33

Will Sandroni

Third Place - Poetry Fifth Grade Pierce Street Elementary School

Splish, splash, it’s in the wind.

“I Went Sightseeing”

I once had to go to my Grammy’s for a holiday break after she moved into her new house. It was really fun because she moved to a neighborhood

Seeing my friends very little, I’m not going to show off playing a fiddle!

Play our Ipads, talking away, I just can’t wait ‘till after May.

“Summer”

Summer is my favorite season I can give you many reasons

_______________________________________________Continued on page 10

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GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

DAILY JOURNAL

Although more people are living by the, “Do unto others as you would have them do unto you” rule, we are still far from perfect. Bullying is still a problem that most of us will experience at least once, but it should be stopped for good and there are many reasons why.

One of the most important reasons bullying should come to an end is that it can sometimes cause people to be physically hurt. Several months ago at recess, this very thing happened to my best friend. While she was getting ready to take her turn on the swings another boy decided he wanted the same swing, although he didn’t wait his turn. Even though the boy decided to wait his turn, his three friends let their anger get the best of them and pushed my best friend really hard. It just so happened that a girl on another swing was going really high and kicked her in the nose really hard.

Another reason bullying is not a good choice of behavior is the consequences that follow. All because of that one bad decision those boys made, they got in big trouble. Maybe they’ll think twice about doing it next time. Too bad they had to learn the hard way.

One more reason to stop bullying is the impact it has on the person that was bullied. It hurt my best friend’s feelings that somebody would do that to her, or anyone for that matter. Sometimes, in other situations, it can really hurt the person’s selfesteem.

No matter which way bullying is looked at, it is a terrible thing. The consequences it leaves with the bullies and the impact it leaves with the victims has a lasting effect. One bad action can hurt so many people. We should all think before we do.

Congratulations on your wonderful story and your success! Your compassion is inspiring! We love you and are so proud to share this accomplishment with you, as well as the many more your future holds!

Love, your family 30

Teiryn Fellows Nichols

with plenty of kids and a bunch of woods behind the new wooden fence. The house had just been built. It had an escalator and an HD 80n inch plasma TV that costs $1089.43 plus tax.

So when my brother, Jackson, and I came over we opened the fence door. It creaked, then we moved on. About a minute later, we stumbled upon a little creek. It was as sparkly as diamonds in a cave with a splash of sunlight. We found a couple of big stones to help us hop across the small creek and so we went on. Soon, we saw a small lizard. I picked it up and thought about its great adventures and my great adventure that I was having. So I set it back down on a log and went on.

I told my brother that it was getting dark and our mommy said be back before dark. So I told him we had to turn around and go home, but that we could continue our journey tomorrow. So we got home and got in our pj’s and went to bed. That’s about the story of the time my brother and me went on an adventure.

FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

|

9

I know I have to wait until after the MCT, But summertime makes me go “wheeeee!”

This poem has come to an end, But summertime will soon begin.

Congratulations, Eli! You make us so proud.

Mamaw & Papaw Smart, Uncle Lonnie, Gracie & Sophie 32

Mary Blake Brashier

Second Place - Poetry Fifth Grade Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

FIFTH GRADE - POETRY 31 Eli Smart First Place - Poetry Fifth Grade Pierce Street Elementary School

“Summertime”

Summertime, summertime, Somebody sound my summer chime.

You must be quite a fool, Not to be happy, we’re out of school.

Going to daycare, seeing my friends, I know our friendship will never end.

Rarely-seen friends, everyday friends, Our good old friendship never needs amend.

Learning, that’s the best thing yet.

But talking about schoolwork gives me sweat.

I’m very glad to get away from it all, I mean, it’s summertime, break awhile.

Third Place -Narrative Fourth Grade Going to the pool is my favorite, It being summer, I must savor it.

Saltillo Elementary Going to the pool with my friends, School

“Books”

Books will seem so boring To those who judge the outside.

But when you start the story, You will see the fun side!

A book can be a novel, a story, A fairy tale.

A book can be anything, Even a tall tale!

The words inside will pull you in To an amazing place.

You float and flutter through The books with lots and lots of grace.

Roald Dahl and Dr. Seuss, C.S. Lewis, too.

These are some of the authors Who just might interest you!

33

Will Sandroni

Third Place - Poetry Fifth Grade Pierce Street Elementary School

Splish, splash, it’s in the wind.

“I Went Sightseeing”

I once had to go to my Grammy’s for a holiday break after she moved into her new house. It was really fun because she moved to a neighborhood

Seeing my friends very little, I’m not going to show off playing a fiddle!

Play our Ipads, talking away, I just can’t wait ‘till after May.

“Summer”

Summer is my favorite season I can give you many reasons

_______________________________________________Continued on page 10

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GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

DAILY JOURNAL

GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

| FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

School is out ‘til fall Let’s go and have a ball In the swimming pool I stay There I play everyday Splish, splash in the water As the day gets even hotter On the field hitting and catching Running and sliding and balls we are a’fetching Time to go and win the game So we can be in the hall of fame Many colorful lights Fill up the nights Pow and boom are what we hear As the Fourth’s end is near At the beach in the tides Trying to catch one for some rides In the sand building castles Why is it such a hassle Even though the day is done Hanging with my friends is number one Now that school is back I am with my best friend Jack

Congratulations, Will. Keep up the good work. We love you.

Nana & Papaw

FIFTH GRADE - NARRATIVE 34

Maddie West

First Place - Narrative Fifth Grade Pierce Street Elementary School

parents waiting for me. I can’t lie, but they were embarrassing me. From mom getting the camera to Dad hugging me and saying, “My baby girl is growing up.” “Yuck,” I thought, but it is nice to know they care about me. My sisters and brother were still asleep because they’re not really morning people. After I was fully dressed from my helmet to my chaps and boots, my dad drove me to the Caverlane Stables.

When we arrived, I found my teacher and the other girls that were riding. We loaded the horses into the trailer and put all of the equipment in too.

Then we started off for Allderwood where the show was. When we finally arrived, I was very excited.

Allderwood was a very put-together and beautiful area of trees, flowers, and even more horses than I could every imagine. Now dreaming was over. It was time to get my horse, Aztec, ready.

Aztec is a brownish-buttercup bay. He is also a quarter horse, a fabulous breed for jumping. Oddly enough, I could almost say I trust him more with my life than any human. Well, this is only logical because I’ve been riding him now for almost five years. Now that I had dressed him in his saddle and bit, we were ready to wait for our division to begin.

Something caught my eye while waiting. The people in charge were putting up the fences! I told my teacher, and she said, “Well, Piper, let’s get you on Aztec.” As soon as I was on Aztec, it was if I was at one with him. I could feel his steady but enormous heartbeat, and every muscle and vein that ran through him ran through me.

Now the time arrived. I was just about to jump fences! Just before I started off, my family arrived.

I said my hellos, then went into the arena. I told Aztec to canter, and we were off. We soared over the first fence all through until the last fence. I could feel both of our hearts scrabbling for the right rhythm.

After I finished, I got in line with my competitors.

I was awarded second place! I was very excited. I hugged Aztec and told him he did very good. My family congratulated me, and we left after I cleaned Aztec.

35

Jordan Wilburn

“This is My Sport”

I could barely see any sign of the world being awake. Well, of course, because it was five o’clock in the morning! I struggled to get my clothes on, for it seemed I was still asleep. Most people would be dreaming in their beds right now, but not me. I was preparing myself for my very first horse show.

The day before I had spent hours and hours of cleaning and polishing saddles, bridles, bits, and girths. I wasn’t alone, though. Other people were riding in the show, too, so they had to clean as well.

As I slowly clomped down our stairs, I found my

Second Place Narrative Fifth Grade Pierce Street Elementary School “Will I Make the Team?”

It was an important day for Simone Moors, a day she’d so diligently worked toward since she was barely able to talk. To her, it was all a beautifully,

DAILY JOURNAL

dazzling dream that she would wake up from at any given moment and find herself in the warm comforts of her bed. But, here she was. Stretching her fourteen year old muscles and ligaments. This was the tryouts for the National Gymnastics Team.

“Simone! Stop daydreaming and focus! You know the significance of this day!” Simone’s coach, the famous Bela Karolyi, yelled at her with a heavy Romanian accent. Simone resisted the strong urge to spit back a bitingly harsh comment at her coach.

After all, he was her coach, and Simone would have never made it this far without him. After thoroughly stretching every muscle in their short, stocky bodies, the team marched with unmatched confidence to their first event, the vault.

Simone was the first to have a turn on her best event. As she waited for the judges to signal to start the seventy-five foot run towards the vaulting table, she tightened her strawberry-blonde ponytail and visualized an amazing vault with a perfect landing and a flawless score. The treacherous vault Simone would have to complete was the Amanar, consisting of a back-hand-spring onto the vaulting table, shooting the vaulter high into the air while simultaneously twisting two and a half times, then hoping to land squarely on her feet. Her vault was nearly perfect; the only deduction was two tenths of a point for taking a tiny step back on her landing.

The highest she could score was 10.00, and she received a 9.80. The rest of her team fared pretty well, except for Simone’s best friend, Katelyn, who somehow managed to land on her knees when she landed. Fortunately, she was not injured.

Simone’s team’s favorite event was also their hardest. It was for this reason that Simone was ecstatic to receive a 9.32 on balance beam. The uneven bars and floor exercise were a daze; she scored a 9.65 on both events. Now it was time for the awards. “I’ll know in a matter of minutes if I’m on the National Gymnastics Team,” Simone thought.

“First place on vault, drumroll please... Sam West!” the commentator announced. Simone was amazed at herself. She took third on uneven bars, third on balance beam, and second on the floor exercise. The team jumped up and down for joy.

All of Sam’s team would join the Nation’s gymnastics team. It was almost like a beautiful dream that never seemed to end.

36

Maury Johnston

Third Place Narrative Fifth Grade Lawhon Elementary School _______________________________________________Continued on page 11

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10

GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

| FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

School is out ‘til fall Let’s go and have a ball In the swimming pool I stay There I play everyday Splish, splash in the water As the day gets even hotter On the field hitting and catching Running and sliding and balls we are a’fetching Time to go and win the game So we can be in the hall of fame Many colorful lights Fill up the nights Pow and boom are what we hear As the Fourth’s end is near At the beach in the tides Trying to catch one for some rides In the sand building castles Why is it such a hassle Even though the day is done Hanging with my friends is number one Now that school is back I am with my best friend Jack

Congratulations, Will. Keep up the good work. We love you.

Nana & Papaw

FIFTH GRADE - NARRATIVE 34

Maddie West

First Place - Narrative Fifth Grade Pierce Street Elementary School

parents waiting for me. I can’t lie, but they were embarrassing me. From mom getting the camera to Dad hugging me and saying, “My baby girl is growing up.” “Yuck,” I thought, but it is nice to know they care about me. My sisters and brother were still asleep because they’re not really morning people. After I was fully dressed from my helmet to my chaps and boots, my dad drove me to the Caverlane Stables.

When we arrived, I found my teacher and the other girls that were riding. We loaded the horses into the trailer and put all of the equipment in too.

Then we started off for Allderwood where the show was. When we finally arrived, I was very excited.

Allderwood was a very put-together and beautiful area of trees, flowers, and even more horses than I could every imagine. Now dreaming was over. It was time to get my horse, Aztec, ready.

Aztec is a brownish-buttercup bay. He is also a quarter horse, a fabulous breed for jumping. Oddly enough, I could almost say I trust him more with my life than any human. Well, this is only logical because I’ve been riding him now for almost five years. Now that I had dressed him in his saddle and bit, we were ready to wait for our division to begin.

Something caught my eye while waiting. The people in charge were putting up the fences! I told my teacher, and she said, “Well, Piper, let’s get you on Aztec.” As soon as I was on Aztec, it was if I was at one with him. I could feel his steady but enormous heartbeat, and every muscle and vein that ran through him ran through me.

Now the time arrived. I was just about to jump fences! Just before I started off, my family arrived.

I said my hellos, then went into the arena. I told Aztec to canter, and we were off. We soared over the first fence all through until the last fence. I could feel both of our hearts scrabbling for the right rhythm.

After I finished, I got in line with my competitors.

I was awarded second place! I was very excited. I hugged Aztec and told him he did very good. My family congratulated me, and we left after I cleaned Aztec.

35

Jordan Wilburn

“This is My Sport”

I could barely see any sign of the world being awake. Well, of course, because it was five o’clock in the morning! I struggled to get my clothes on, for it seemed I was still asleep. Most people would be dreaming in their beds right now, but not me. I was preparing myself for my very first horse show.

The day before I had spent hours and hours of cleaning and polishing saddles, bridles, bits, and girths. I wasn’t alone, though. Other people were riding in the show, too, so they had to clean as well.

As I slowly clomped down our stairs, I found my

Second Place Narrative Fifth Grade Pierce Street Elementary School “Will I Make the Team?”

It was an important day for Simone Moors, a day she’d so diligently worked toward since she was barely able to talk. To her, it was all a beautifully,

DAILY JOURNAL

dazzling dream that she would wake up from at any given moment and find herself in the warm comforts of her bed. But, here she was. Stretching her fourteen year old muscles and ligaments. This was the tryouts for the National Gymnastics Team.

“Simone! Stop daydreaming and focus! You know the significance of this day!” Simone’s coach, the famous Bela Karolyi, yelled at her with a heavy Romanian accent. Simone resisted the strong urge to spit back a bitingly harsh comment at her coach.

After all, he was her coach, and Simone would have never made it this far without him. After thoroughly stretching every muscle in their short, stocky bodies, the team marched with unmatched confidence to their first event, the vault.

Simone was the first to have a turn on her best event. As she waited for the judges to signal to start the seventy-five foot run towards the vaulting table, she tightened her strawberry-blonde ponytail and visualized an amazing vault with a perfect landing and a flawless score. The treacherous vault Simone would have to complete was the Amanar, consisting of a back-hand-spring onto the vaulting table, shooting the vaulter high into the air while simultaneously twisting two and a half times, then hoping to land squarely on her feet. Her vault was nearly perfect; the only deduction was two tenths of a point for taking a tiny step back on her landing.

The highest she could score was 10.00, and she received a 9.80. The rest of her team fared pretty well, except for Simone’s best friend, Katelyn, who somehow managed to land on her knees when she landed. Fortunately, she was not injured.

Simone’s team’s favorite event was also their hardest. It was for this reason that Simone was ecstatic to receive a 9.32 on balance beam. The uneven bars and floor exercise were a daze; she scored a 9.65 on both events. Now it was time for the awards. “I’ll know in a matter of minutes if I’m on the National Gymnastics Team,” Simone thought.

“First place on vault, drumroll please... Sam West!” the commentator announced. Simone was amazed at herself. She took third on uneven bars, third on balance beam, and second on the floor exercise. The team jumped up and down for joy.

All of Sam’s team would join the Nation’s gymnastics team. It was almost like a beautiful dream that never seemed to end.

36

Maury Johnston

Third Place Narrative Fifth Grade Lawhon Elementary School _______________________________________________Continued on page 11

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10

GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

| FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

School is out ‘til fall Let’s go and have a ball In the swimming pool I stay There I play everyday Splish, splash in the water As the day gets even hotter On the field hitting and catching Running and sliding and balls we are a’fetching Time to go and win the game So we can be in the hall of fame Many colorful lights Fill up the nights Pow and boom are what we hear As the Fourth’s end is near At the beach in the tides Trying to catch one for some rides In the sand building castles Why is it such a hassle Even though the day is done Hanging with my friends is number one Now that school is back I am with my best friend Jack

Congratulations, Will. Keep up the good work. We love you.

Nana & Papaw

FIFTH GRADE - NARRATIVE 34

Maddie West

First Place - Narrative Fifth Grade Pierce Street Elementary School

parents waiting for me. I can’t lie, but they were embarrassing me. From mom getting the camera to Dad hugging me and saying, “My baby girl is growing up.” “Yuck,” I thought, but it is nice to know they care about me. My sisters and brother were still asleep because they’re not really morning people. After I was fully dressed from my helmet to my chaps and boots, my dad drove me to the Caverlane Stables.

When we arrived, I found my teacher and the other girls that were riding. We loaded the horses into the trailer and put all of the equipment in too.

Then we started off for Allderwood where the show was. When we finally arrived, I was very excited.

Allderwood was a very put-together and beautiful area of trees, flowers, and even more horses than I could every imagine. Now dreaming was over. It was time to get my horse, Aztec, ready.

Aztec is a brownish-buttercup bay. He is also a quarter horse, a fabulous breed for jumping. Oddly enough, I could almost say I trust him more with my life than any human. Well, this is only logical because I’ve been riding him now for almost five years. Now that I had dressed him in his saddle and bit, we were ready to wait for our division to begin.

Something caught my eye while waiting. The people in charge were putting up the fences! I told my teacher, and she said, “Well, Piper, let’s get you on Aztec.” As soon as I was on Aztec, it was if I was at one with him. I could feel his steady but enormous heartbeat, and every muscle and vein that ran through him ran through me.

Now the time arrived. I was just about to jump fences! Just before I started off, my family arrived.

I said my hellos, then went into the arena. I told Aztec to canter, and we were off. We soared over the first fence all through until the last fence. I could feel both of our hearts scrabbling for the right rhythm.

After I finished, I got in line with my competitors.

I was awarded second place! I was very excited. I hugged Aztec and told him he did very good. My family congratulated me, and we left after I cleaned Aztec.

35

Jordan Wilburn

“This is My Sport”

I could barely see any sign of the world being awake. Well, of course, because it was five o’clock in the morning! I struggled to get my clothes on, for it seemed I was still asleep. Most people would be dreaming in their beds right now, but not me. I was preparing myself for my very first horse show.

The day before I had spent hours and hours of cleaning and polishing saddles, bridles, bits, and girths. I wasn’t alone, though. Other people were riding in the show, too, so they had to clean as well.

As I slowly clomped down our stairs, I found my

Second Place Narrative Fifth Grade Pierce Street Elementary School “Will I Make the Team?”

It was an important day for Simone Moors, a day she’d so diligently worked toward since she was barely able to talk. To her, it was all a beautifully,

DAILY JOURNAL

dazzling dream that she would wake up from at any given moment and find herself in the warm comforts of her bed. But, here she was. Stretching her fourteen year old muscles and ligaments. This was the tryouts for the National Gymnastics Team.

“Simone! Stop daydreaming and focus! You know the significance of this day!” Simone’s coach, the famous Bela Karolyi, yelled at her with a heavy Romanian accent. Simone resisted the strong urge to spit back a bitingly harsh comment at her coach.

After all, he was her coach, and Simone would have never made it this far without him. After thoroughly stretching every muscle in their short, stocky bodies, the team marched with unmatched confidence to their first event, the vault.

Simone was the first to have a turn on her best event. As she waited for the judges to signal to start the seventy-five foot run towards the vaulting table, she tightened her strawberry-blonde ponytail and visualized an amazing vault with a perfect landing and a flawless score. The treacherous vault Simone would have to complete was the Amanar, consisting of a back-hand-spring onto the vaulting table, shooting the vaulter high into the air while simultaneously twisting two and a half times, then hoping to land squarely on her feet. Her vault was nearly perfect; the only deduction was two tenths of a point for taking a tiny step back on her landing.

The highest she could score was 10.00, and she received a 9.80. The rest of her team fared pretty well, except for Simone’s best friend, Katelyn, who somehow managed to land on her knees when she landed. Fortunately, she was not injured.

Simone’s team’s favorite event was also their hardest. It was for this reason that Simone was ecstatic to receive a 9.32 on balance beam. The uneven bars and floor exercise were a daze; she scored a 9.65 on both events. Now it was time for the awards. “I’ll know in a matter of minutes if I’m on the National Gymnastics Team,” Simone thought.

“First place on vault, drumroll please... Sam West!” the commentator announced. Simone was amazed at herself. She took third on uneven bars, third on balance beam, and second on the floor exercise. The team jumped up and down for joy.

All of Sam’s team would join the Nation’s gymnastics team. It was almost like a beautiful dream that never seemed to end.

36

Maury Johnston

Third Place Narrative Fifth Grade Lawhon Elementary School _______________________________________________Continued on page 11

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10

“Stolen Cupcakes”

“What do you think we’ll get for Valentine’s?” asked Rebecca. “I think Mama said something about some cupcakes,” replied Lucy softly. They each sat down on the plush, red couch and stared out to the fluffy, white clouds and the bright, flaming sun. They’d had only a minute of silence before Mama came rushing in, making them jump out of their daydreams. “What’s the matter?” asked Lucy.

She could see the worry in Mama’s eyes. “Well,” Mama started. “I went to the grocery store to get the stuff for Valentine’s dinner, and I saw the perfect cupcakes for y’all. I got them and went straight home. When I first got home, I unloaded all of the other groceries. Then I came back for the cupcakes, but they were gone!” Lucy and Rebecca each immediately started investigating.

“What were they? How long were they out for?

Where did you last see them?” were some of the many questions they asked. Since Mama was absolutely, positively sure she saw them when she was unpacking groceries, they went back to the scene of the crime: the back of Mama’s car. There were no clues there, so they went to ask daddy if he’d seen them. Daddy had been playing in the front yard with Celia. As Lucy and Rebecca were walking to the front yard, Rebecca spotted their first clue: pink icing. They walked faster. “Daddy must know now!” they each thought to themselves, but as they turned the corner, all they saw was Daddy, asleep on the hammock.

Lucy shook him awake and asked him if he’d seen anybody, but he hadn’t. They were disappointed and wanted to keep looking, but before they started looking again, they had an even bigger problem to face: Where was Celia?! Rebecca, Lucy, and Daddy all split up to look. After about five minutes that seemed like an eternity, Rebecca found Celia sprawled out on the ground...with a mouthful of red velvet cupcake and a handful of pink Valentine cupcake icing.

SIXTH GRADE - POETRY 37

Victoria Waller

First Place - Poetry Sixth Grade Milam Elementary School

“My Quiet Paradise”

My quiet paradise Is a place far away From the bangs and bustles of the city

From responsibility you could say The silent still sky Tall towering tress The occasional swoop of the bees Trees gazing gaily at the glistening water The mountains watching over it all Fish swimming happily The world giving its call My quiet paradise If I could stay forever I would Where I have no troubles Where life is amazingly good

38

Elizabeth Middleton

Second Place - Poetry Sixth Grade Milam Elementary School “Free”

You think it’s easy?

Well,it’s not.

You have to work at it, you know, Practice.

Not everything comes easy like a sweet April shower.

When you do this thing you will…

Fly free like a baby bird learning to fly Crack the tank of depression and swim through it like a free fish You will jump like a tadpole that has just grown its legs.

You will just feel free, you know?

You will also feel beautiful when you get ready for performances.

Your toes may hurt badly, but its worth it.

When you get on stage you feel like your floating on clouds.

And once you are done, you get applauded, You get an Amazing feeling inside like you did something great…

Ballet.

FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

|

11

39

Sara Frances Wolfe

Third Place - Poetry Sixth Grade Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

“The Accidental Poem”

I’m writing for the Gumtree, an organization of art.

The only trouble I seem to have is finding a place to start.

What to write about? This is a difficult question.

Maybe I could ask my teacher for a few helpful suggestions.

A few ideas pop into my head, but I quickly throw them away.

Honestly….at this rate, I could take all day.

I think I’ve made my mind up that I want to write a poem.

I’ll look up some dexterous words; that’ll really show ‘em.

I want to write a poem that effortlessly rhymes.

I need to come up with ideas quickly; I’m running out of time.

After all of this frustration, I’m genuinely glad.

I’ve come up with a poem, and its really not half bad.

Congratulations, Sara Frances!

Love,Mama, Daddy, and Meri Alan

SIXTH GRADE - NARRATIVE 40

Leah Caitlin Timmons

First Place - Narrative Sixth Grade Tupelo Christian Preparatory School _______________________________________________Continued on page 12

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GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

DAILY JOURNAL

“Stolen Cupcakes”

“What do you think we’ll get for Valentine’s?” asked Rebecca. “I think Mama said something about some cupcakes,” replied Lucy softly. They each sat down on the plush, red couch and stared out to the fluffy, white clouds and the bright, flaming sun. They’d had only a minute of silence before Mama came rushing in, making them jump out of their daydreams. “What’s the matter?” asked Lucy.

She could see the worry in Mama’s eyes. “Well,” Mama started. “I went to the grocery store to get the stuff for Valentine’s dinner, and I saw the perfect cupcakes for y’all. I got them and went straight home. When I first got home, I unloaded all of the other groceries. Then I came back for the cupcakes, but they were gone!” Lucy and Rebecca each immediately started investigating.

“What were they? How long were they out for?

Where did you last see them?” were some of the many questions they asked. Since Mama was absolutely, positively sure she saw them when she was unpacking groceries, they went back to the scene of the crime: the back of Mama’s car. There were no clues there, so they went to ask daddy if he’d seen them. Daddy had been playing in the front yard with Celia. As Lucy and Rebecca were walking to the front yard, Rebecca spotted their first clue: pink icing. They walked faster. “Daddy must know now!” they each thought to themselves, but as they turned the corner, all they saw was Daddy, asleep on the hammock.

Lucy shook him awake and asked him if he’d seen anybody, but he hadn’t. They were disappointed and wanted to keep looking, but before they started looking again, they had an even bigger problem to face: Where was Celia?! Rebecca, Lucy, and Daddy all split up to look. After about five minutes that seemed like an eternity, Rebecca found Celia sprawled out on the ground...with a mouthful of red velvet cupcake and a handful of pink Valentine cupcake icing.

SIXTH GRADE - POETRY 37

Victoria Waller

First Place - Poetry Sixth Grade Milam Elementary School

“My Quiet Paradise”

My quiet paradise Is a place far away From the bangs and bustles of the city

From responsibility you could say The silent still sky Tall towering tress The occasional swoop of the bees Trees gazing gaily at the glistening water The mountains watching over it all Fish swimming happily The world giving its call My quiet paradise If I could stay forever I would Where I have no troubles Where life is amazingly good

38

Elizabeth Middleton

Second Place - Poetry Sixth Grade Milam Elementary School “Free”

You think it’s easy?

Well,it’s not.

You have to work at it, you know, Practice.

Not everything comes easy like a sweet April shower.

When you do this thing you will…

Fly free like a baby bird learning to fly Crack the tank of depression and swim through it like a free fish You will jump like a tadpole that has just grown its legs.

You will just feel free, you know?

You will also feel beautiful when you get ready for performances.

Your toes may hurt badly, but its worth it.

When you get on stage you feel like your floating on clouds.

And once you are done, you get applauded, You get an Amazing feeling inside like you did something great…

Ballet.

FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

|

11

39

Sara Frances Wolfe

Third Place - Poetry Sixth Grade Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

“The Accidental Poem”

I’m writing for the Gumtree, an organization of art.

The only trouble I seem to have is finding a place to start.

What to write about? This is a difficult question.

Maybe I could ask my teacher for a few helpful suggestions.

A few ideas pop into my head, but I quickly throw them away.

Honestly….at this rate, I could take all day.

I think I’ve made my mind up that I want to write a poem.

I’ll look up some dexterous words; that’ll really show ‘em.

I want to write a poem that effortlessly rhymes.

I need to come up with ideas quickly; I’m running out of time.

After all of this frustration, I’m genuinely glad.

I’ve come up with a poem, and its really not half bad.

Congratulations, Sara Frances!

Love,Mama, Daddy, and Meri Alan

SIXTH GRADE - NARRATIVE 40

Leah Caitlin Timmons

First Place - Narrative Sixth Grade Tupelo Christian Preparatory School _______________________________________________Continued on page 12

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GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

DAILY JOURNAL

“Stolen Cupcakes”

“What do you think we’ll get for Valentine’s?” asked Rebecca. “I think Mama said something about some cupcakes,” replied Lucy softly. They each sat down on the plush, red couch and stared out to the fluffy, white clouds and the bright, flaming sun. They’d had only a minute of silence before Mama came rushing in, making them jump out of their daydreams. “What’s the matter?” asked Lucy.

She could see the worry in Mama’s eyes. “Well,” Mama started. “I went to the grocery store to get the stuff for Valentine’s dinner, and I saw the perfect cupcakes for y’all. I got them and went straight home. When I first got home, I unloaded all of the other groceries. Then I came back for the cupcakes, but they were gone!” Lucy and Rebecca each immediately started investigating.

“What were they? How long were they out for?

Where did you last see them?” were some of the many questions they asked. Since Mama was absolutely, positively sure she saw them when she was unpacking groceries, they went back to the scene of the crime: the back of Mama’s car. There were no clues there, so they went to ask daddy if he’d seen them. Daddy had been playing in the front yard with Celia. As Lucy and Rebecca were walking to the front yard, Rebecca spotted their first clue: pink icing. They walked faster. “Daddy must know now!” they each thought to themselves, but as they turned the corner, all they saw was Daddy, asleep on the hammock.

Lucy shook him awake and asked him if he’d seen anybody, but he hadn’t. They were disappointed and wanted to keep looking, but before they started looking again, they had an even bigger problem to face: Where was Celia?! Rebecca, Lucy, and Daddy all split up to look. After about five minutes that seemed like an eternity, Rebecca found Celia sprawled out on the ground...with a mouthful of red velvet cupcake and a handful of pink Valentine cupcake icing.

SIXTH GRADE - POETRY 37

Victoria Waller

First Place - Poetry Sixth Grade Milam Elementary School

“My Quiet Paradise”

My quiet paradise Is a place far away From the bangs and bustles of the city

From responsibility you could say The silent still sky Tall towering tress The occasional swoop of the bees Trees gazing gaily at the glistening water The mountains watching over it all Fish swimming happily The world giving its call My quiet paradise If I could stay forever I would Where I have no troubles Where life is amazingly good

38

Elizabeth Middleton

Second Place - Poetry Sixth Grade Milam Elementary School “Free”

You think it’s easy?

Well,it’s not.

You have to work at it, you know, Practice.

Not everything comes easy like a sweet April shower.

When you do this thing you will…

Fly free like a baby bird learning to fly Crack the tank of depression and swim through it like a free fish You will jump like a tadpole that has just grown its legs.

You will just feel free, you know?

You will also feel beautiful when you get ready for performances.

Your toes may hurt badly, but its worth it.

When you get on stage you feel like your floating on clouds.

And once you are done, you get applauded, You get an Amazing feeling inside like you did something great…

Ballet.

FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

|

11

39

Sara Frances Wolfe

Third Place - Poetry Sixth Grade Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

“The Accidental Poem”

I’m writing for the Gumtree, an organization of art.

The only trouble I seem to have is finding a place to start.

What to write about? This is a difficult question.

Maybe I could ask my teacher for a few helpful suggestions.

A few ideas pop into my head, but I quickly throw them away.

Honestly….at this rate, I could take all day.

I think I’ve made my mind up that I want to write a poem.

I’ll look up some dexterous words; that’ll really show ‘em.

I want to write a poem that effortlessly rhymes.

I need to come up with ideas quickly; I’m running out of time.

After all of this frustration, I’m genuinely glad.

I’ve come up with a poem, and its really not half bad.

Congratulations, Sara Frances!

Love,Mama, Daddy, and Meri Alan

SIXTH GRADE - NARRATIVE 40

Leah Caitlin Timmons

First Place - Narrative Sixth Grade Tupelo Christian Preparatory School _______________________________________________Continued on page 12

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GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

DAILY JOURNAL

| FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

“My Story of Hope”

When I look at a plant poking out of a snow covered field, I see something most people do not, I see hope. I see hope that the spring will come. I see that even when you are filled with sorrow and grief, there is hope no matter what.

I learned this lesson when the most traumatic event that had ever happened to me occurred...my dad died.

It had been a normal day at school until it occurred. I knew something was wrong at the instant he died. I felt suddenly and utterly alone. A deep sadness swept over me that still has not left me. I knew something was wrong when my dad did not pick me up from school. It was 4:30 when my great aunt and uncle finally picked me up form school. They told me something had happened to my dad, and he was at the hospital. None of us knew he had died, but we all knew something was terribly wrong. When we got to the hospital, the first sight I saw was my mother completely in tears, like I had never seen her before. I knew instantly when I saw her my deepest fears were confirmed.

My mom came up to me and told me what had happened, but I already knew. It was like my whole world collapsed at that one instant. There are no words to describe how I felt at that moment.

No one can understand how I felt unless they go through it themselves. I went and sat down, but I could not cry. The only thing I could do was keep repeating, “Oh, my goodness! Oh, my goodness!”

Then the tears came, and when they did, it was a flood. That was December 18, 2012, and I still cry, sometimes.

My dad had been in the military for twenty-seven years, so he had a military funeral. Instead of flowers on his casket, it was an American flag, the same as his father. He was buried in a wooden casket because he owned a woodworks shop. Also, the same as his father. We buried him in a blue shirt we were going to give him for Christmas.

I do not remember the funeral; it was just a blur of grief. All I remember was the two songs played, “How Great Thou Art” and “Amazing Grace.” I do not remember much about his grave except it was at Pleasant Valley Cemetery beside his parents, and it was completely covered in flowers.

Whenever I touch his flag or anything from his funeral, the tears flow again. But when I look at a plant poking out of a snow covered field, I see something most people do not, I see hope. I see hope that the spring will come. I see that even when you are filled with sorrow and grief, there is hope.

GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST 41

Mia Katherine Todd

Second Place Narrative Sixth Grade Milam Elementary School “Above the Ocean”

Sitting up in bed breathing the delicious aroma of coffee, pancakes, and bacon highlighted my day from the start. Listening to the squawking seagulls outside the thin, translucent curtains, I slowly rolled out of the bed landing with the usual morning “thunk”. I walked through the calmness of my bedroom then into the kitchen where I was suddenly exposed to the glimmering waters of the ocean. I took a seat at the table as my family noticed me at last and placed a plate full of delicious food in front of me.

Still adjusting to the light, I finished the last bite of my syrup coated pancake. I walked back into my room to find a swimsuit already laid out on the now made up bed. After covering myself in white gooey sunscreen, I gathered things I would take down to the beach. Walking out of my room with my beach gear, I was told there was no need to bring this down today. Questioning whether we had planned to go to the beach today, I was filled with joy when the answer came that we would be flying high in the air on a parasail instead.

Dropping the things in my hands, I grabbed my sandals and beach bag and rushed out of the condo leaving my family behind me. Arriving at our reserved chairs on the beach, I threw the bag down and anxiously waited for my family to arrive.

Making their way down the beach, I watched my grandmother step up to the hut with the words “Pirate Parasail” in bold letters on the roof. I was placed into a lifejacket and seated with several other people who would parasail after us. I noticed a wave runner coming closer to us waving at a person running down the beach carrying a large floaty.

Watching closely as the man tied the float to the back of the wave runner, I thought maybe I would get to ride on it to meet the boat further out into the ocean.

I was correct indeed. Stepping off the float, careful not to fall into the deep, dark waters, I made it safely onto the boat and was strapped into a harness beside my mom. A roar behind me signaled that the boat had started up and was ready to go.

Up we went, frightened at first and then very calm and peaceful as we reached maximum height.

Looking down over the dark waters, I spotted a beautiful sea turtle. Then looking another direction, I saw a hammerhead shark, one of my few fears. Thinking this was normal for a parasail ride,

DAILY JOURNAL

I didn’t panic but was still frightened. After seeing the shark, I was terrified when they let us down to touch the water. Only letting our feet into the water, it was a relief as they pulled us back up and into the boat. It had definitely been an exciting day for my family and me.

Way to go, Mia Katherine! We’re so proud of your creativity and hope you keep writing!

Love,Mom & John Nicholas, Nana & Papa, Big Momma & G-Daddy 42

Sarah Caroline Ueltschey

Third Place Narrative Sixth Grade Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

“A Life-Changing Experience”

I woke up one morning, constantly pacing to the bathroom and dying of thirst. My dad, who is a doctor, was very concerned and thought I should go to his office. I insisted on going to school. My dad wouldn’t give in, and I ended up at his office that morning. I was sitting uncomfortably and impatiently in my dad’s office when he told me to come back and use the restroom in a cup. I was a little grossed out, but I obeyed. I turned in the cup and waited. All of a sudden they said they needed my blood drawn. I was frightened at the thought of it. I had never had my blood drawn. I tried to stay calm as the piercing needle went into my soft skin.

I let out a small yelp. I really thought nothing was wrong. I didn’t know this would be the start of a long journey.

My mom came to pick me up, and my dad motioned for her to come inside. A few minutes later, I found myself crying and asking what juvenile diabetes was. Whatever it was, I had it. I was mortified and confused. What was this, and why did I have it? I must have blacked out because an hour later I ended up in a different doctor’s office.

They were explaining what diabetes was, and I gradually started to understand. Apparently something in my body called the pancreas stopped working so the sugar I eat makes me have a low or high blood sugar. It’s horribly confusing. They loaded me up with heavy books about diabetes.

My nurse, Amanda, is so sweet. She taught me how to give myself shots and check my blood sugar _______________________________________________Continued on page 13

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12

| FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

“My Story of Hope”

When I look at a plant poking out of a snow covered field, I see something most people do not, I see hope. I see hope that the spring will come. I see that even when you are filled with sorrow and grief, there is hope no matter what.

I learned this lesson when the most traumatic event that had ever happened to me occurred...my dad died.

It had been a normal day at school until it occurred. I knew something was wrong at the instant he died. I felt suddenly and utterly alone. A deep sadness swept over me that still has not left me. I knew something was wrong when my dad did not pick me up from school. It was 4:30 when my great aunt and uncle finally picked me up form school. They told me something had happened to my dad, and he was at the hospital. None of us knew he had died, but we all knew something was terribly wrong. When we got to the hospital, the first sight I saw was my mother completely in tears, like I had never seen her before. I knew instantly when I saw her my deepest fears were confirmed.

My mom came up to me and told me what had happened, but I already knew. It was like my whole world collapsed at that one instant. There are no words to describe how I felt at that moment.

No one can understand how I felt unless they go through it themselves. I went and sat down, but I could not cry. The only thing I could do was keep repeating, “Oh, my goodness! Oh, my goodness!”

Then the tears came, and when they did, it was a flood. That was December 18, 2012, and I still cry, sometimes.

My dad had been in the military for twenty-seven years, so he had a military funeral. Instead of flowers on his casket, it was an American flag, the same as his father. He was buried in a wooden casket because he owned a woodworks shop. Also, the same as his father. We buried him in a blue shirt we were going to give him for Christmas.

I do not remember the funeral; it was just a blur of grief. All I remember was the two songs played, “How Great Thou Art” and “Amazing Grace.” I do not remember much about his grave except it was at Pleasant Valley Cemetery beside his parents, and it was completely covered in flowers.

Whenever I touch his flag or anything from his funeral, the tears flow again. But when I look at a plant poking out of a snow covered field, I see something most people do not, I see hope. I see hope that the spring will come. I see that even when you are filled with sorrow and grief, there is hope.

GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST 41

Mia Katherine Todd

Second Place Narrative Sixth Grade Milam Elementary School “Above the Ocean”

Sitting up in bed breathing the delicious aroma of coffee, pancakes, and bacon highlighted my day from the start. Listening to the squawking seagulls outside the thin, translucent curtains, I slowly rolled out of the bed landing with the usual morning “thunk”. I walked through the calmness of my bedroom then into the kitchen where I was suddenly exposed to the glimmering waters of the ocean. I took a seat at the table as my family noticed me at last and placed a plate full of delicious food in front of me.

Still adjusting to the light, I finished the last bite of my syrup coated pancake. I walked back into my room to find a swimsuit already laid out on the now made up bed. After covering myself in white gooey sunscreen, I gathered things I would take down to the beach. Walking out of my room with my beach gear, I was told there was no need to bring this down today. Questioning whether we had planned to go to the beach today, I was filled with joy when the answer came that we would be flying high in the air on a parasail instead.

Dropping the things in my hands, I grabbed my sandals and beach bag and rushed out of the condo leaving my family behind me. Arriving at our reserved chairs on the beach, I threw the bag down and anxiously waited for my family to arrive.

Making their way down the beach, I watched my grandmother step up to the hut with the words “Pirate Parasail” in bold letters on the roof. I was placed into a lifejacket and seated with several other people who would parasail after us. I noticed a wave runner coming closer to us waving at a person running down the beach carrying a large floaty.

Watching closely as the man tied the float to the back of the wave runner, I thought maybe I would get to ride on it to meet the boat further out into the ocean.

I was correct indeed. Stepping off the float, careful not to fall into the deep, dark waters, I made it safely onto the boat and was strapped into a harness beside my mom. A roar behind me signaled that the boat had started up and was ready to go.

Up we went, frightened at first and then very calm and peaceful as we reached maximum height.

Looking down over the dark waters, I spotted a beautiful sea turtle. Then looking another direction, I saw a hammerhead shark, one of my few fears. Thinking this was normal for a parasail ride,

DAILY JOURNAL

I didn’t panic but was still frightened. After seeing the shark, I was terrified when they let us down to touch the water. Only letting our feet into the water, it was a relief as they pulled us back up and into the boat. It had definitely been an exciting day for my family and me.

Way to go, Mia Katherine! We’re so proud of your creativity and hope you keep writing!

Love,Mom & John Nicholas, Nana & Papa, Big Momma & G-Daddy 42

Sarah Caroline Ueltschey

Third Place Narrative Sixth Grade Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

“A Life-Changing Experience”

I woke up one morning, constantly pacing to the bathroom and dying of thirst. My dad, who is a doctor, was very concerned and thought I should go to his office. I insisted on going to school. My dad wouldn’t give in, and I ended up at his office that morning. I was sitting uncomfortably and impatiently in my dad’s office when he told me to come back and use the restroom in a cup. I was a little grossed out, but I obeyed. I turned in the cup and waited. All of a sudden they said they needed my blood drawn. I was frightened at the thought of it. I had never had my blood drawn. I tried to stay calm as the piercing needle went into my soft skin.

I let out a small yelp. I really thought nothing was wrong. I didn’t know this would be the start of a long journey.

My mom came to pick me up, and my dad motioned for her to come inside. A few minutes later, I found myself crying and asking what juvenile diabetes was. Whatever it was, I had it. I was mortified and confused. What was this, and why did I have it? I must have blacked out because an hour later I ended up in a different doctor’s office.

They were explaining what diabetes was, and I gradually started to understand. Apparently something in my body called the pancreas stopped working so the sugar I eat makes me have a low or high blood sugar. It’s horribly confusing. They loaded me up with heavy books about diabetes.

My nurse, Amanda, is so sweet. She taught me how to give myself shots and check my blood sugar _______________________________________________Continued on page 13

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12

| FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

“My Story of Hope”

When I look at a plant poking out of a snow covered field, I see something most people do not, I see hope. I see hope that the spring will come. I see that even when you are filled with sorrow and grief, there is hope no matter what.

I learned this lesson when the most traumatic event that had ever happened to me occurred...my dad died.

It had been a normal day at school until it occurred. I knew something was wrong at the instant he died. I felt suddenly and utterly alone. A deep sadness swept over me that still has not left me. I knew something was wrong when my dad did not pick me up from school. It was 4:30 when my great aunt and uncle finally picked me up form school. They told me something had happened to my dad, and he was at the hospital. None of us knew he had died, but we all knew something was terribly wrong. When we got to the hospital, the first sight I saw was my mother completely in tears, like I had never seen her before. I knew instantly when I saw her my deepest fears were confirmed.

My mom came up to me and told me what had happened, but I already knew. It was like my whole world collapsed at that one instant. There are no words to describe how I felt at that moment.

No one can understand how I felt unless they go through it themselves. I went and sat down, but I could not cry. The only thing I could do was keep repeating, “Oh, my goodness! Oh, my goodness!”

Then the tears came, and when they did, it was a flood. That was December 18, 2012, and I still cry, sometimes.

My dad had been in the military for twenty-seven years, so he had a military funeral. Instead of flowers on his casket, it was an American flag, the same as his father. He was buried in a wooden casket because he owned a woodworks shop. Also, the same as his father. We buried him in a blue shirt we were going to give him for Christmas.

I do not remember the funeral; it was just a blur of grief. All I remember was the two songs played, “How Great Thou Art” and “Amazing Grace.” I do not remember much about his grave except it was at Pleasant Valley Cemetery beside his parents, and it was completely covered in flowers.

Whenever I touch his flag or anything from his funeral, the tears flow again. But when I look at a plant poking out of a snow covered field, I see something most people do not, I see hope. I see hope that the spring will come. I see that even when you are filled with sorrow and grief, there is hope.

GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST 41

Mia Katherine Todd

Second Place Narrative Sixth Grade Milam Elementary School “Above the Ocean”

Sitting up in bed breathing the delicious aroma of coffee, pancakes, and bacon highlighted my day from the start. Listening to the squawking seagulls outside the thin, translucent curtains, I slowly rolled out of the bed landing with the usual morning “thunk”. I walked through the calmness of my bedroom then into the kitchen where I was suddenly exposed to the glimmering waters of the ocean. I took a seat at the table as my family noticed me at last and placed a plate full of delicious food in front of me.

Still adjusting to the light, I finished the last bite of my syrup coated pancake. I walked back into my room to find a swimsuit already laid out on the now made up bed. After covering myself in white gooey sunscreen, I gathered things I would take down to the beach. Walking out of my room with my beach gear, I was told there was no need to bring this down today. Questioning whether we had planned to go to the beach today, I was filled with joy when the answer came that we would be flying high in the air on a parasail instead.

Dropping the things in my hands, I grabbed my sandals and beach bag and rushed out of the condo leaving my family behind me. Arriving at our reserved chairs on the beach, I threw the bag down and anxiously waited for my family to arrive.

Making their way down the beach, I watched my grandmother step up to the hut with the words “Pirate Parasail” in bold letters on the roof. I was placed into a lifejacket and seated with several other people who would parasail after us. I noticed a wave runner coming closer to us waving at a person running down the beach carrying a large floaty.

Watching closely as the man tied the float to the back of the wave runner, I thought maybe I would get to ride on it to meet the boat further out into the ocean.

I was correct indeed. Stepping off the float, careful not to fall into the deep, dark waters, I made it safely onto the boat and was strapped into a harness beside my mom. A roar behind me signaled that the boat had started up and was ready to go.

Up we went, frightened at first and then very calm and peaceful as we reached maximum height.

Looking down over the dark waters, I spotted a beautiful sea turtle. Then looking another direction, I saw a hammerhead shark, one of my few fears. Thinking this was normal for a parasail ride,

DAILY JOURNAL

I didn’t panic but was still frightened. After seeing the shark, I was terrified when they let us down to touch the water. Only letting our feet into the water, it was a relief as they pulled us back up and into the boat. It had definitely been an exciting day for my family and me.

Way to go, Mia Katherine! We’re so proud of your creativity and hope you keep writing!

Love,Mom & John Nicholas, Nana & Papa, Big Momma & G-Daddy 42

Sarah Caroline Ueltschey

Third Place Narrative Sixth Grade Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

“A Life-Changing Experience”

I woke up one morning, constantly pacing to the bathroom and dying of thirst. My dad, who is a doctor, was very concerned and thought I should go to his office. I insisted on going to school. My dad wouldn’t give in, and I ended up at his office that morning. I was sitting uncomfortably and impatiently in my dad’s office when he told me to come back and use the restroom in a cup. I was a little grossed out, but I obeyed. I turned in the cup and waited. All of a sudden they said they needed my blood drawn. I was frightened at the thought of it. I had never had my blood drawn. I tried to stay calm as the piercing needle went into my soft skin.

I let out a small yelp. I really thought nothing was wrong. I didn’t know this would be the start of a long journey.

My mom came to pick me up, and my dad motioned for her to come inside. A few minutes later, I found myself crying and asking what juvenile diabetes was. Whatever it was, I had it. I was mortified and confused. What was this, and why did I have it? I must have blacked out because an hour later I ended up in a different doctor’s office.

They were explaining what diabetes was, and I gradually started to understand. Apparently something in my body called the pancreas stopped working so the sugar I eat makes me have a low or high blood sugar. It’s horribly confusing. They loaded me up with heavy books about diabetes.

My nurse, Amanda, is so sweet. She taught me how to give myself shots and check my blood sugar _______________________________________________Continued on page 13

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12

I Am The Outcast

by pricking my finger. I can’t have a lot of sugar anymore. I think it is actually good for me to eat healthier though. It was a long, overwhelming, and dramatic day. I have had to miss a lot of school. It has been a life-changing experience, but everything happens for a reason, and I have to remember to trust God.

44

Bo Robertson

SEVENTH GRADE - POETRY

Second Place - Poetry Seventh Grade Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

43

Madison Burt

First Place - Poetry Seventh Grade “Fall” Tupelo Middle School As I drive up my driveway,

I hear the gravel under the tire.

I see the autumn leaves as bright as fire.

God really does know how to inspire.

“The Outcast”

I am in a place I have no mouth to speak Not that they would hear me I have no sight to see Not that they would look I have no ears to listen Not that they would answer I have no heart to like Not that they would love me I am in the shadows I am in the dark I feel so hollow Then the pain follows All the words they say Just adds on the pain All the stares I see Why me What is this place Is this a dream Do I dream No it cannot be What am I

FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

|

13

New Orleans Zoo was big and loud Thank goodness we got there before the crowd We saw elephants, bears, giraffes, and more We even got to see giant birds soar New Orleans Aquarium was filled with fun We saw penguins and they were fast ones We fed free-flying parakeets with our feeding sticks They landed on you head or even on your hips On the streets, we found magicians and mimes We even heard the Catholic church’s chimes We ate beignets at Cafe Du Monde Their beignets were loved by everyone New Orleans was fun, but we could not stay Hopefully, we will be back another day Throughout the week, memories were made Those special moments will never fade

SEVENTH GRADE - NARRATIVE 46

Summer is long gone.

Fall is here.

I see a flash.

There are two deer.

Aaron Walters 45

Abbey Hastings

Third Place - Poetry Seventh Grade Tupelo Middle School

“New Orleans”

We were down in New Orleans for our spring break We wanted to make our trip great Our family planned many things to see and do We didn’t know where to begin, so we started with the zoo

First Place - Narrative Seventh Grade Mooreville Middle School

“Almost There”

Zzzoowhip! The enemies were swarming in, smothering me, zooming in every direction. We were almost to our destination. I could see it peeking through the rows of what seemed to be thousands of ships. Longing for the engine to go faster, I could feel a deep twist forming in my stomach.

Flash! A blinding red light caught me by surprise!

The driver halted to a sudden stop. Grasping my _______________________________________________Continued on page 14

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GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

DAILY JOURNAL

I Am The Outcast

by pricking my finger. I can’t have a lot of sugar anymore. I think it is actually good for me to eat healthier though. It was a long, overwhelming, and dramatic day. I have had to miss a lot of school. It has been a life-changing experience, but everything happens for a reason, and I have to remember to trust God.

44

Bo Robertson

SEVENTH GRADE - POETRY

Second Place - Poetry Seventh Grade Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

43

Madison Burt

First Place - Poetry Seventh Grade “Fall” Tupelo Middle School As I drive up my driveway,

I hear the gravel under the tire.

I see the autumn leaves as bright as fire.

God really does know how to inspire.

“The Outcast”

I am in a place I have no mouth to speak Not that they would hear me I have no sight to see Not that they would look I have no ears to listen Not that they would answer I have no heart to like Not that they would love me I am in the shadows I am in the dark I feel so hollow Then the pain follows All the words they say Just adds on the pain All the stares I see Why me What is this place Is this a dream Do I dream No it cannot be What am I

FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

|

13

New Orleans Zoo was big and loud Thank goodness we got there before the crowd We saw elephants, bears, giraffes, and more We even got to see giant birds soar New Orleans Aquarium was filled with fun We saw penguins and they were fast ones We fed free-flying parakeets with our feeding sticks They landed on you head or even on your hips On the streets, we found magicians and mimes We even heard the Catholic church’s chimes We ate beignets at Cafe Du Monde Their beignets were loved by everyone New Orleans was fun, but we could not stay Hopefully, we will be back another day Throughout the week, memories were made Those special moments will never fade

SEVENTH GRADE - NARRATIVE 46

Summer is long gone.

Fall is here.

I see a flash.

There are two deer.

Aaron Walters 45

Abbey Hastings

Third Place - Poetry Seventh Grade Tupelo Middle School

“New Orleans”

We were down in New Orleans for our spring break We wanted to make our trip great Our family planned many things to see and do We didn’t know where to begin, so we started with the zoo

First Place - Narrative Seventh Grade Mooreville Middle School

“Almost There”

Zzzoowhip! The enemies were swarming in, smothering me, zooming in every direction. We were almost to our destination. I could see it peeking through the rows of what seemed to be thousands of ships. Longing for the engine to go faster, I could feel a deep twist forming in my stomach.

Flash! A blinding red light caught me by surprise!

The driver halted to a sudden stop. Grasping my _______________________________________________Continued on page 14

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GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

DAILY JOURNAL

I Am The Outcast

by pricking my finger. I can’t have a lot of sugar anymore. I think it is actually good for me to eat healthier though. It was a long, overwhelming, and dramatic day. I have had to miss a lot of school. It has been a life-changing experience, but everything happens for a reason, and I have to remember to trust God.

44

Bo Robertson

SEVENTH GRADE - POETRY

Second Place - Poetry Seventh Grade Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

43

Madison Burt

First Place - Poetry Seventh Grade “Fall” Tupelo Middle School As I drive up my driveway,

I hear the gravel under the tire.

I see the autumn leaves as bright as fire.

God really does know how to inspire.

“The Outcast”

I am in a place I have no mouth to speak Not that they would hear me I have no sight to see Not that they would look I have no ears to listen Not that they would answer I have no heart to like Not that they would love me I am in the shadows I am in the dark I feel so hollow Then the pain follows All the words they say Just adds on the pain All the stares I see Why me What is this place Is this a dream Do I dream No it cannot be What am I

FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

|

13

New Orleans Zoo was big and loud Thank goodness we got there before the crowd We saw elephants, bears, giraffes, and more We even got to see giant birds soar New Orleans Aquarium was filled with fun We saw penguins and they were fast ones We fed free-flying parakeets with our feeding sticks They landed on you head or even on your hips On the streets, we found magicians and mimes We even heard the Catholic church’s chimes We ate beignets at Cafe Du Monde Their beignets were loved by everyone New Orleans was fun, but we could not stay Hopefully, we will be back another day Throughout the week, memories were made Those special moments will never fade

SEVENTH GRADE - NARRATIVE 46

Summer is long gone.

Fall is here.

I see a flash.

There are two deer.

Aaron Walters 45

Abbey Hastings

Third Place - Poetry Seventh Grade Tupelo Middle School

“New Orleans”

We were down in New Orleans for our spring break We wanted to make our trip great Our family planned many things to see and do We didn’t know where to begin, so we started with the zoo

First Place - Narrative Seventh Grade Mooreville Middle School

“Almost There”

Zzzoowhip! The enemies were swarming in, smothering me, zooming in every direction. We were almost to our destination. I could see it peeking through the rows of what seemed to be thousands of ships. Longing for the engine to go faster, I could feel a deep twist forming in my stomach.

Flash! A blinding red light caught me by surprise!

The driver halted to a sudden stop. Grasping my _______________________________________________Continued on page 14

Document: A013DJS051013.eps;Page: 1;Format:(254.00 x 254.00 mm);Plate: Composite;Date: May 08, 2013 16:20:18;JPC 72 DPI

GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

DAILY JOURNAL

GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

| FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

gun tighter, dread filled my heart.

A loud screech forced my head to jolt up.

Surprised by the massive figure before me, I had to catch myself from letting a small gasp creep from my throat.

We were unprepared. With a last second choice of desperation, the ship jerked to a hard right, squeezing into a small, tight gap. Startled by the decision made, I quickly asked, “What’s going on,” but it came out something like a squeal. “We need a few supplies!” the captain shot back sounding slightly aggravated.

Cautiously searching for enemies, I knew something seemed different. The mother ship had passed through leaving only a few scattered ships behind. I immediately noticed our competition.

There were two ships, one guard in each ship, and they both seemed occupied. This was our chance!

An unexpected burst of acceleration caught me off guard causing my head to sling backwards. We darted across the path weaving past any ship that dared to get in our way. I knew it was going to be a close call when one of the guards looked up. He knew exactly what we were doing. He scrambled to beat us, but it was too late. We had claimed our spot in the Burger King drive thru!

Congratulations, Aaron! You are a talented writer and a smart child!

Love,Dad, Teresa and Danielle

47

Morgan Bailey

Second Place Narrative Seventh Grade Guntown Middle School

“As an Oak”

I am eighty-four years old. And even though it took me this long to mature, the deafening roars and whirs of chainsaws scream below me. The machines I’ve always dreaded to hear are now ready to tear through me with no regrets; but I am ready.

I am oak. I started as a helpless sapling, tended to by a child daily. The child cared for me and exclaimed each spring when I had grown more than the last. The springtime was the one time that I felt more superior to each pine or dogwood that was before towering above me. But, with the knowledge of my growth, came the knowledge that I was getting too large.

Through the many years I’ve known to avoid growing my branches toward rooftops, I still don’t think the now-grown child’s grandchildren don’t appreciate me. They climb on me and carve unknown names into by bark while grumbling about how I’ve become too large for the yard.

“That tree is part of your grandmother’s childhood,” the man says. “We can’t just get rid of it.”

This was repeated several times before the decision to add on to the house was made. While I told myself I would be kept, I knew that I was in the exact spot the family planned to construct.

Finally, the moment has come. I have prepared myself before the men at my most vulnerable state and can do nothing to protect myself. The rotating blades are getting closer, and I wince at the small cut made at my sturdy trunk. “Wait!” the woman urgently calls. “That’s the oak!” I don’t understand!

Why aren’t they cutting me down? But soon, relief runs through my tangled branches, and the men step away. The deafening chainsaws are stopped, and I know that I will be around for many more years to come. Along, with the future years of my life comes the realization that when I do get cut down or fall with age, the memory of the woman who protected me, saved me, and card for me will fade along with my memory.

DAILY JOURNAL

48

Jacob Warrington Third Place Narrative Seventh Grade Guntown Middle School

“Made in China”

My friend Thomas, my dad, and I were on the plane ride to the Himalayas for vacation. We were planning on climbing Mt. Everest but then realized it was too dangerous.

When we made it to the base camp near the tallest mountain on Earth, we decided to hold back all the mountain climbing because of the long plane ride.

An expert on mountain climbing asked my dad if we were climbing Mt. Everest.

“No. Why?” my dad asked.

“I hear someone left a valuable...a jewel of some sort on the far side of the mountain. It is said to be worth over a million dollars. Can you help me find it? We can split the money.” The expert, who we found out was James, was anxious to get it.

“Could you tell us about this jewel,” my dad said.

“Well, I’m not sure what it’s called, but I know that it is an American jewel. It was made of gold from Alaska, but the diamonds are from Africa.”

For a while my dad, Thomas, and I stared at each other.

“O.K., we’ll help you.”

On the far side of the mountain it was just a steep rock with a few ledges here and there. It seemed like we climbed for hours, and we probably did. We barely made it six hundred feet. I could tell we still had a way to go. We took a break at around six hundred and fifty feet. When we looked down, we felt like we were flying, but when we looked up we _______________________________________________Continued on page 15

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14

GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

| FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

gun tighter, dread filled my heart.

A loud screech forced my head to jolt up.

Surprised by the massive figure before me, I had to catch myself from letting a small gasp creep from my throat.

We were unprepared. With a last second choice of desperation, the ship jerked to a hard right, squeezing into a small, tight gap. Startled by the decision made, I quickly asked, “What’s going on,” but it came out something like a squeal. “We need a few supplies!” the captain shot back sounding slightly aggravated.

Cautiously searching for enemies, I knew something seemed different. The mother ship had passed through leaving only a few scattered ships behind. I immediately noticed our competition.

There were two ships, one guard in each ship, and they both seemed occupied. This was our chance!

An unexpected burst of acceleration caught me off guard causing my head to sling backwards. We darted across the path weaving past any ship that dared to get in our way. I knew it was going to be a close call when one of the guards looked up. He knew exactly what we were doing. He scrambled to beat us, but it was too late. We had claimed our spot in the Burger King drive thru!

Congratulations, Aaron! You are a talented writer and a smart child!

Love,Dad, Teresa and Danielle

47

Morgan Bailey

Second Place Narrative Seventh Grade Guntown Middle School

“As an Oak”

I am eighty-four years old. And even though it took me this long to mature, the deafening roars and whirs of chainsaws scream below me. The machines I’ve always dreaded to hear are now ready to tear through me with no regrets; but I am ready.

I am oak. I started as a helpless sapling, tended to by a child daily. The child cared for me and exclaimed each spring when I had grown more than the last. The springtime was the one time that I felt more superior to each pine or dogwood that was before towering above me. But, with the knowledge of my growth, came the knowledge that I was getting too large.

Through the many years I’ve known to avoid growing my branches toward rooftops, I still don’t think the now-grown child’s grandchildren don’t appreciate me. They climb on me and carve unknown names into by bark while grumbling about how I’ve become too large for the yard.

“That tree is part of your grandmother’s childhood,” the man says. “We can’t just get rid of it.”

This was repeated several times before the decision to add on to the house was made. While I told myself I would be kept, I knew that I was in the exact spot the family planned to construct.

Finally, the moment has come. I have prepared myself before the men at my most vulnerable state and can do nothing to protect myself. The rotating blades are getting closer, and I wince at the small cut made at my sturdy trunk. “Wait!” the woman urgently calls. “That’s the oak!” I don’t understand!

Why aren’t they cutting me down? But soon, relief runs through my tangled branches, and the men step away. The deafening chainsaws are stopped, and I know that I will be around for many more years to come. Along, with the future years of my life comes the realization that when I do get cut down or fall with age, the memory of the woman who protected me, saved me, and card for me will fade along with my memory.

DAILY JOURNAL

48

Jacob Warrington Third Place Narrative Seventh Grade Guntown Middle School

“Made in China”

My friend Thomas, my dad, and I were on the plane ride to the Himalayas for vacation. We were planning on climbing Mt. Everest but then realized it was too dangerous.

When we made it to the base camp near the tallest mountain on Earth, we decided to hold back all the mountain climbing because of the long plane ride.

An expert on mountain climbing asked my dad if we were climbing Mt. Everest.

“No. Why?” my dad asked.

“I hear someone left a valuable...a jewel of some sort on the far side of the mountain. It is said to be worth over a million dollars. Can you help me find it? We can split the money.” The expert, who we found out was James, was anxious to get it.

“Could you tell us about this jewel,” my dad said.

“Well, I’m not sure what it’s called, but I know that it is an American jewel. It was made of gold from Alaska, but the diamonds are from Africa.”

For a while my dad, Thomas, and I stared at each other.

“O.K., we’ll help you.”

On the far side of the mountain it was just a steep rock with a few ledges here and there. It seemed like we climbed for hours, and we probably did. We barely made it six hundred feet. I could tell we still had a way to go. We took a break at around six hundred and fifty feet. When we looked down, we felt like we were flying, but when we looked up we _______________________________________________Continued on page 15

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14

GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

| FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

gun tighter, dread filled my heart.

A loud screech forced my head to jolt up.

Surprised by the massive figure before me, I had to catch myself from letting a small gasp creep from my throat.

We were unprepared. With a last second choice of desperation, the ship jerked to a hard right, squeezing into a small, tight gap. Startled by the decision made, I quickly asked, “What’s going on,” but it came out something like a squeal. “We need a few supplies!” the captain shot back sounding slightly aggravated.

Cautiously searching for enemies, I knew something seemed different. The mother ship had passed through leaving only a few scattered ships behind. I immediately noticed our competition.

There were two ships, one guard in each ship, and they both seemed occupied. This was our chance!

An unexpected burst of acceleration caught me off guard causing my head to sling backwards. We darted across the path weaving past any ship that dared to get in our way. I knew it was going to be a close call when one of the guards looked up. He knew exactly what we were doing. He scrambled to beat us, but it was too late. We had claimed our spot in the Burger King drive thru!

Congratulations, Aaron! You are a talented writer and a smart child!

Love,Dad, Teresa and Danielle

47

Morgan Bailey

Second Place Narrative Seventh Grade Guntown Middle School

“As an Oak”

I am eighty-four years old. And even though it took me this long to mature, the deafening roars and whirs of chainsaws scream below me. The machines I’ve always dreaded to hear are now ready to tear through me with no regrets; but I am ready.

I am oak. I started as a helpless sapling, tended to by a child daily. The child cared for me and exclaimed each spring when I had grown more than the last. The springtime was the one time that I felt more superior to each pine or dogwood that was before towering above me. But, with the knowledge of my growth, came the knowledge that I was getting too large.

Through the many years I’ve known to avoid growing my branches toward rooftops, I still don’t think the now-grown child’s grandchildren don’t appreciate me. They climb on me and carve unknown names into by bark while grumbling about how I’ve become too large for the yard.

“That tree is part of your grandmother’s childhood,” the man says. “We can’t just get rid of it.”

This was repeated several times before the decision to add on to the house was made. While I told myself I would be kept, I knew that I was in the exact spot the family planned to construct.

Finally, the moment has come. I have prepared myself before the men at my most vulnerable state and can do nothing to protect myself. The rotating blades are getting closer, and I wince at the small cut made at my sturdy trunk. “Wait!” the woman urgently calls. “That’s the oak!” I don’t understand!

Why aren’t they cutting me down? But soon, relief runs through my tangled branches, and the men step away. The deafening chainsaws are stopped, and I know that I will be around for many more years to come. Along, with the future years of my life comes the realization that when I do get cut down or fall with age, the memory of the woman who protected me, saved me, and card for me will fade along with my memory.

DAILY JOURNAL

48

Jacob Warrington Third Place Narrative Seventh Grade Guntown Middle School

“Made in China”

My friend Thomas, my dad, and I were on the plane ride to the Himalayas for vacation. We were planning on climbing Mt. Everest but then realized it was too dangerous.

When we made it to the base camp near the tallest mountain on Earth, we decided to hold back all the mountain climbing because of the long plane ride.

An expert on mountain climbing asked my dad if we were climbing Mt. Everest.

“No. Why?” my dad asked.

“I hear someone left a valuable...a jewel of some sort on the far side of the mountain. It is said to be worth over a million dollars. Can you help me find it? We can split the money.” The expert, who we found out was James, was anxious to get it.

“Could you tell us about this jewel,” my dad said.

“Well, I’m not sure what it’s called, but I know that it is an American jewel. It was made of gold from Alaska, but the diamonds are from Africa.”

For a while my dad, Thomas, and I stared at each other.

“O.K., we’ll help you.”

On the far side of the mountain it was just a steep rock with a few ledges here and there. It seemed like we climbed for hours, and we probably did. We barely made it six hundred feet. I could tell we still had a way to go. We took a break at around six hundred and fifty feet. When we looked down, we felt like we were flying, but when we looked up we _______________________________________________Continued on page 15

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14

were ants being compared to a skyscraper.

We started our journey up the mountain again, although I’d doubt you’d call this side of the mountain a mountain. It was more like a cliff. Once we hit one thousand feet things got interesting. We got to a slope that was even enough for us to walk and take a break.

When we started walking up the slope, we got chatty.

“What are you gonna buy with your money?”

Thomas asked me.

“I don’t know, but I’m hoping to get a new house.

Our old one is too small,” I answered him. “Or I could get a ...”

Suddenly, I tripped and started rolling down the slope. Thomas ran and dove to catch me as soon as I rolled off the cliff. He grabbed my arm, so I started dangling...! Thomas then started slipping, but I saw James and my dad attaching themselves to a rock with a rope.

James ran toward us, and Thomas slipped. James was quick enough and caught Thomas by the foot.

All of a sudden, something else started rolling down the hill. It fell off the cliff and hit me in the head, but I caught it with my free arm.

I got pulled back to the edge of the cliff safely. I wiped all the snow off of this “thing.” Once I got done, I couldn’t believe it. It was shiny and gold, but I soon saw a label that read: “Made in China.”

EIGHTH GRADE - POETRY 49

Abbey Edmonson

First Place - Poetry Eighth Grade Tupelo Middle School

“The Roof”

Everyone has their special place,

FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

mine is on the roof.

It’s not a very intact space, but at least it’s brother-proof.

|

15

And the echo of my trainer pushing me beyond my thinking I’m alone The only thing I have is my thoughts Get faster, kick harder, push yourself, Don’t let them beat you

I perch on it with pure delight, the nook that I have found; I dream that I will soon take flight, and never touch the ground.

I’m alone The only thing on my mind is my feelings Hurt, pain, grief, anger Joy, excitement, satisfaction

The surface is sultry and dark, but I don’t mind a bit.

I like to think on its massive arc, on which I yearn to sit.

The water is my escape I’m alone with my thoughts, feelings, and goals I am secure I am protected I am loved in my underwater home.

“The roof is very precarious,” my mom says of my niche; but I find it hilarious when she decides to sit.

And maybe some day, I’ll share the roof with you.

But ‘til then you’ll have to wait for my awesome little roost.

51

Emma Gousset

Congratulations, Abbey! We are so proud of you and all your creativity and hard work.

Third Place - Poetry Eighth Grade Tupelo Middle School

Love,Mom, Dad, Cooper and Drew 50

Claire Coggin

“Why?”

If life is so short, why do we do so many Second Place - Poetry things we don’t like, and like so many things we don’t do?

Eighth Grade Why do we see what we want, and shut Tupelo Middle School out what’s true?

Why do we bring others down, and leave them feeling blue?

Why do we make promises and not follow through?

Why are we too stubborn to see others point of view?

“My Underwater Home” Because we’re human, that’s why The water is my escape But we all need to try, It blocks away all of the noise in my life While I’m swimming, the only sounds I hear are the to make a difference in our lives Will you? splashes of water

Congratulations to the 2013 Youth Celebration of Writing Contest Winners!

627 W. Main Street | Tupelo | 662-840-0066 mainstreetdentistrytupelo.com

Brett Hildenbrand, D.M.D. | Harry Rayburn, D.M.D. "No representation is made that the quality of the dental services to be performed is greater than the quality of dental services performed by other dentist."

Document: A015DJS051013.eps;Page: 1;Format:(254.00 x 254.00 mm);Plate: Composite;Date: May 08, 2013 16:20:26;JPC 72 DPI

GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

DAILY JOURNAL

were ants being compared to a skyscraper.

We started our journey up the mountain again, although I’d doubt you’d call this side of the mountain a mountain. It was more like a cliff. Once we hit one thousand feet things got interesting. We got to a slope that was even enough for us to walk and take a break.

When we started walking up the slope, we got chatty.

“What are you gonna buy with your money?”

Thomas asked me.

“I don’t know, but I’m hoping to get a new house.

Our old one is too small,” I answered him. “Or I could get a ...”

Suddenly, I tripped and started rolling down the slope. Thomas ran and dove to catch me as soon as I rolled off the cliff. He grabbed my arm, so I started dangling...! Thomas then started slipping, but I saw James and my dad attaching themselves to a rock with a rope.

James ran toward us, and Thomas slipped. James was quick enough and caught Thomas by the foot.

All of a sudden, something else started rolling down the hill. It fell off the cliff and hit me in the head, but I caught it with my free arm.

I got pulled back to the edge of the cliff safely. I wiped all the snow off of this “thing.” Once I got done, I couldn’t believe it. It was shiny and gold, but I soon saw a label that read: “Made in China.”

EIGHTH GRADE - POETRY 49

Abbey Edmonson

First Place - Poetry Eighth Grade Tupelo Middle School

“The Roof”

Everyone has their special place,

FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

mine is on the roof.

It’s not a very intact space, but at least it’s brother-proof.

|

15

And the echo of my trainer pushing me beyond my thinking I’m alone The only thing I have is my thoughts Get faster, kick harder, push yourself, Don’t let them beat you

I perch on it with pure delight, the nook that I have found; I dream that I will soon take flight, and never touch the ground.

I’m alone The only thing on my mind is my feelings Hurt, pain, grief, anger Joy, excitement, satisfaction

The surface is sultry and dark, but I don’t mind a bit.

I like to think on its massive arc, on which I yearn to sit.

The water is my escape I’m alone with my thoughts, feelings, and goals I am secure I am protected I am loved in my underwater home.

“The roof is very precarious,” my mom says of my niche; but I find it hilarious when she decides to sit.

And maybe some day, I’ll share the roof with you.

But ‘til then you’ll have to wait for my awesome little roost.

51

Emma Gousset

Congratulations, Abbey! We are so proud of you and all your creativity and hard work.

Third Place - Poetry Eighth Grade Tupelo Middle School

Love,Mom, Dad, Cooper and Drew 50

Claire Coggin

“Why?”

If life is so short, why do we do so many Second Place - Poetry things we don’t like, and like so many things we don’t do?

Eighth Grade Why do we see what we want, and shut Tupelo Middle School out what’s true?

Why do we bring others down, and leave them feeling blue?

Why do we make promises and not follow through?

Why are we too stubborn to see others point of view?

“My Underwater Home” Because we’re human, that’s why The water is my escape But we all need to try, It blocks away all of the noise in my life While I’m swimming, the only sounds I hear are the to make a difference in our lives Will you? splashes of water

Congratulations to the 2013 Youth Celebration of Writing Contest Winners!

627 W. Main Street | Tupelo | 662-840-0066 mainstreetdentistrytupelo.com

Brett Hildenbrand, D.M.D. | Harry Rayburn, D.M.D. "No representation is made that the quality of the dental services to be performed is greater than the quality of dental services performed by other dentist."

Document: A015DJS051013.eps;Page: 1;Format:(254.00 x 254.00 mm);Plate: Composite;Date: May 08, 2013 16:20:26;JPC 72 DPI

GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

DAILY JOURNAL

were ants being compared to a skyscraper.

We started our journey up the mountain again, although I’d doubt you’d call this side of the mountain a mountain. It was more like a cliff. Once we hit one thousand feet things got interesting. We got to a slope that was even enough for us to walk and take a break.

When we started walking up the slope, we got chatty.

“What are you gonna buy with your money?”

Thomas asked me.

“I don’t know, but I’m hoping to get a new house.

Our old one is too small,” I answered him. “Or I could get a ...”

Suddenly, I tripped and started rolling down the slope. Thomas ran and dove to catch me as soon as I rolled off the cliff. He grabbed my arm, so I started dangling...! Thomas then started slipping, but I saw James and my dad attaching themselves to a rock with a rope.

James ran toward us, and Thomas slipped. James was quick enough and caught Thomas by the foot.

All of a sudden, something else started rolling down the hill. It fell off the cliff and hit me in the head, but I caught it with my free arm.

I got pulled back to the edge of the cliff safely. I wiped all the snow off of this “thing.” Once I got done, I couldn’t believe it. It was shiny and gold, but I soon saw a label that read: “Made in China.”

EIGHTH GRADE - POETRY 49

Abbey Edmonson

First Place - Poetry Eighth Grade Tupelo Middle School

“The Roof”

Everyone has their special place,

FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

mine is on the roof.

It’s not a very intact space, but at least it’s brother-proof.

|

15

And the echo of my trainer pushing me beyond my thinking I’m alone The only thing I have is my thoughts Get faster, kick harder, push yourself, Don’t let them beat you

I perch on it with pure delight, the nook that I have found; I dream that I will soon take flight, and never touch the ground.

I’m alone The only thing on my mind is my feelings Hurt, pain, grief, anger Joy, excitement, satisfaction

The surface is sultry and dark, but I don’t mind a bit.

I like to think on its massive arc, on which I yearn to sit.

The water is my escape I’m alone with my thoughts, feelings, and goals I am secure I am protected I am loved in my underwater home.

“The roof is very precarious,” my mom says of my niche; but I find it hilarious when she decides to sit.

And maybe some day, I’ll share the roof with you.

But ‘til then you’ll have to wait for my awesome little roost.

51

Emma Gousset

Congratulations, Abbey! We are so proud of you and all your creativity and hard work.

Third Place - Poetry Eighth Grade Tupelo Middle School

Love,Mom, Dad, Cooper and Drew 50

Claire Coggin

“Why?”

If life is so short, why do we do so many Second Place - Poetry things we don’t like, and like so many things we don’t do?

Eighth Grade Why do we see what we want, and shut Tupelo Middle School out what’s true?

Why do we bring others down, and leave them feeling blue?

Why do we make promises and not follow through?

Why are we too stubborn to see others point of view?

“My Underwater Home” Because we’re human, that’s why The water is my escape But we all need to try, It blocks away all of the noise in my life While I’m swimming, the only sounds I hear are the to make a difference in our lives Will you? splashes of water

Congratulations to the 2013 Youth Celebration of Writing Contest Winners!

627 W. Main Street | Tupelo | 662-840-0066 mainstreetdentistrytupelo.com

Brett Hildenbrand, D.M.D. | Harry Rayburn, D.M.D. "No representation is made that the quality of the dental services to be performed is greater than the quality of dental services performed by other dentist."

Document: A015DJS051013.eps;Page: 1;Format:(254.00 x 254.00 mm);Plate: Composite;Date: May 08, 2013 16:20:26;JPC 72 DPI

GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

DAILY JOURNAL

GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

| FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

EIGHTH GRADE - NARRATIVE 52

Emma Woolhouse

First Place - Narrative Eighth Grade Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

“Can’t Turn Back”

Silence slowly overtook the crowd. Caroline’s once racing heart seemed to stop. Along with everyone else, she dared not to move. To speak. To breathe. Even time seemed to stand still, and that’s when Caroline heard it. A gunshot rang out, shattering the silence, and pandemonium erupted.

Caroline didn’t have time to think; she just started running, pushing her way through the crowd.

Someone trampled on her foot, but she dared not to stop. She just kept going. One glance behind her told her she had to go faster. She couldn’t turn back. Her legs and lungs were burning, and her face, sticky with tears and sweat, contorted into an ugly position as she gasped for air. Caroline didn’t look back. She just kept running.

The sounds were the worst. All around her, people were screaming. Caroline realized, in a panic, that her own mother was one of the ones screeching, but she didn’t look back. Girls cried out in agony. Some fainted. Some moaned. Some breathed with such force, Caroline feared each breath was their last. One girl, blood pouring from her leg, limped by. If she could keep going, so could Caroline. So she did.

She rounded a corner and caught sight of an ambulance. The screams and screeches were getting louder. Just when she was sure she couldn’t go another step, Caroline crossed the finish line. As her teammates congratulated her on her first race, Caroline knew that cross country was going to be

hard.

But she also knew she was up to it.

Congratulations to Emma! What an awesome honor! We are very proud of you.

Loving you always,

Nona, Pop, Mimi, Uncle Lee, Aunt Lee Ann, Jessica, and Bryce

Congratulations, Emma! We love you and are so proud of you.

Dad, Mom and Ben 53

Molly Ray

Second Place Narrative Eighth Grade Tupelo Middle School

“Indian Summer”

In 1851, the American army was forcing Native American tribes to live in reservations. These reservations were like boot camps, and many Indians were beaten.

On one particular reservation, a Navajo girl named Tala lived with her father, Chief Annawann.

It was a beautiful, golden summer, one perfect for planting corn. Tala worked in the cornfields day after day under the sweltering sun. Cayden was a young American soldier under the command of General Bryant. He was in charge of guarding Tala and her group of Navajo corn-planters.

One day, Cayden accidentally stepped on Tala’s hand; he quickly apologized and offered to wrap it for her. Tala averted her eyes for she knew the punishment for speaking to the soldiers. However, Tala

DAILY JOURNAL

caught a glimpse of the soldier’s deep blue eyes, and she realized he was not like the rest. Cayden whispered, “I don’t think it’s broken, but you may take the day off if you wish.” Tala whispered her thank you and knelt down to continue working.

Cayden marched away.

He is very sweet, not at all like the other soldiers I have met...Tala thought to herself as she finished planting the corn.

Two weeks later, Tala’s job had become fetching the cool water from Blackfoot Creek. In the stifling heat, she was tempted to drink it. As she knelt down to drink from the creek, Cayden stepped out from behind the forest line.

Tala was so startled to see him that she lost her footing on a mossy rock and splashed into the creek. As Cayden valiantly dove in to save her, Tala came up sputtering and swam to shore as Cayden sloshed around in the water. Tala reached the forest and slipped into the trees. Cayden followed her into the dense forest. He followed the wisp as her dark hair flew around a corner. He tackled her onto the forest floor, a pile of pine needles cushioning their fall.

“I have watched you for weeks, waiting to tell you something,” Cayden whispered into her ear. Tala pulled away. Cayden reached for her wrist and pulled her to him. “I have loved you since that golden summer’s day in the cornfield. Please, say you love me too or everything will have been in vain.”

“I know you are different from others. You are special and as fair as the yellow sun. I do love you.

I do not see how it could work between us, for I am bound to my people and you to your uniform. Our love does not matter,” Tala responded.

Cayden bent down and kissed her brown lips.

“We must run away from this. To the East! Away from this hate on both sides!”

“How? When I do not even know your name?”

“I am Cayden. Who are you?”

“My name is Tala, daughter of Chief Annawann.”

Well, Tala of Chief Annawann, meet me here tomorrow night after the harvest dance. I will be waiting.” _____________________________________Molly Ray’s message is on page 17

Norbord Mississippi, LLC. 1194 Highway 145 Guntown, Mississippi USA 38849

Tel: (662) 348-2800 • Fax: (662) 348-2899 • www.norbord.com

Document: A016DJS051013.eps;Page: 1;Format:(254.00 x 254.00 mm);Plate: Composite;Date: May 08, 2013 16:20:31;JPC 72 DPI

16

GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

| FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

EIGHTH GRADE - NARRATIVE 52

Emma Woolhouse

First Place - Narrative Eighth Grade Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

“Can’t Turn Back”

Silence slowly overtook the crowd. Caroline’s once racing heart seemed to stop. Along with everyone else, she dared not to move. To speak. To breathe. Even time seemed to stand still, and that’s when Caroline heard it. A gunshot rang out, shattering the silence, and pandemonium erupted.

Caroline didn’t have time to think; she just started running, pushing her way through the crowd.

Someone trampled on her foot, but she dared not to stop. She just kept going. One glance behind her told her she had to go faster. She couldn’t turn back. Her legs and lungs were burning, and her face, sticky with tears and sweat, contorted into an ugly position as she gasped for air. Caroline didn’t look back. She just kept running.

The sounds were the worst. All around her, people were screaming. Caroline realized, in a panic, that her own mother was one of the ones screeching, but she didn’t look back. Girls cried out in agony. Some fainted. Some moaned. Some breathed with such force, Caroline feared each breath was their last. One girl, blood pouring from her leg, limped by. If she could keep going, so could Caroline. So she did.

She rounded a corner and caught sight of an ambulance. The screams and screeches were getting louder. Just when she was sure she couldn’t go another step, Caroline crossed the finish line. As her teammates congratulated her on her first race, Caroline knew that cross country was going to be

hard.

But she also knew she was up to it.

Congratulations to Emma! What an awesome honor! We are very proud of you.

Loving you always,

Nona, Pop, Mimi, Uncle Lee, Aunt Lee Ann, Jessica, and Bryce

Congratulations, Emma! We love you and are so proud of you.

Dad, Mom and Ben 53

Molly Ray

Second Place Narrative Eighth Grade Tupelo Middle School

“Indian Summer”

In 1851, the American army was forcing Native American tribes to live in reservations. These reservations were like boot camps, and many Indians were beaten.

On one particular reservation, a Navajo girl named Tala lived with her father, Chief Annawann.

It was a beautiful, golden summer, one perfect for planting corn. Tala worked in the cornfields day after day under the sweltering sun. Cayden was a young American soldier under the command of General Bryant. He was in charge of guarding Tala and her group of Navajo corn-planters.

One day, Cayden accidentally stepped on Tala’s hand; he quickly apologized and offered to wrap it for her. Tala averted her eyes for she knew the punishment for speaking to the soldiers. However, Tala

DAILY JOURNAL

caught a glimpse of the soldier’s deep blue eyes, and she realized he was not like the rest. Cayden whispered, “I don’t think it’s broken, but you may take the day off if you wish.” Tala whispered her thank you and knelt down to continue working.

Cayden marched away.

He is very sweet, not at all like the other soldiers I have met...Tala thought to herself as she finished planting the corn.

Two weeks later, Tala’s job had become fetching the cool water from Blackfoot Creek. In the stifling heat, she was tempted to drink it. As she knelt down to drink from the creek, Cayden stepped out from behind the forest line.

Tala was so startled to see him that she lost her footing on a mossy rock and splashed into the creek. As Cayden valiantly dove in to save her, Tala came up sputtering and swam to shore as Cayden sloshed around in the water. Tala reached the forest and slipped into the trees. Cayden followed her into the dense forest. He followed the wisp as her dark hair flew around a corner. He tackled her onto the forest floor, a pile of pine needles cushioning their fall.

“I have watched you for weeks, waiting to tell you something,” Cayden whispered into her ear. Tala pulled away. Cayden reached for her wrist and pulled her to him. “I have loved you since that golden summer’s day in the cornfield. Please, say you love me too or everything will have been in vain.”

“I know you are different from others. You are special and as fair as the yellow sun. I do love you.

I do not see how it could work between us, for I am bound to my people and you to your uniform. Our love does not matter,” Tala responded.

Cayden bent down and kissed her brown lips.

“We must run away from this. To the East! Away from this hate on both sides!”

“How? When I do not even know your name?”

“I am Cayden. Who are you?”

“My name is Tala, daughter of Chief Annawann.”

Well, Tala of Chief Annawann, meet me here tomorrow night after the harvest dance. I will be waiting.” _____________________________________Molly Ray’s message is on page 17

Norbord Mississippi, LLC. 1194 Highway 145 Guntown, Mississippi USA 38849

Tel: (662) 348-2800 • Fax: (662) 348-2899 • www.norbord.com

Document: A016DJS051013.eps;Page: 1;Format:(254.00 x 254.00 mm);Plate: Composite;Date: May 08, 2013 16:20:31;JPC 72 DPI

16

GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

| FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

EIGHTH GRADE - NARRATIVE 52

Emma Woolhouse

First Place - Narrative Eighth Grade Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

“Can’t Turn Back”

Silence slowly overtook the crowd. Caroline’s once racing heart seemed to stop. Along with everyone else, she dared not to move. To speak. To breathe. Even time seemed to stand still, and that’s when Caroline heard it. A gunshot rang out, shattering the silence, and pandemonium erupted.

Caroline didn’t have time to think; she just started running, pushing her way through the crowd.

Someone trampled on her foot, but she dared not to stop. She just kept going. One glance behind her told her she had to go faster. She couldn’t turn back. Her legs and lungs were burning, and her face, sticky with tears and sweat, contorted into an ugly position as she gasped for air. Caroline didn’t look back. She just kept running.

The sounds were the worst. All around her, people were screaming. Caroline realized, in a panic, that her own mother was one of the ones screeching, but she didn’t look back. Girls cried out in agony. Some fainted. Some moaned. Some breathed with such force, Caroline feared each breath was their last. One girl, blood pouring from her leg, limped by. If she could keep going, so could Caroline. So she did.

She rounded a corner and caught sight of an ambulance. The screams and screeches were getting louder. Just when she was sure she couldn’t go another step, Caroline crossed the finish line. As her teammates congratulated her on her first race, Caroline knew that cross country was going to be

hard.

But she also knew she was up to it.

Congratulations to Emma! What an awesome honor! We are very proud of you.

Loving you always,

Nona, Pop, Mimi, Uncle Lee, Aunt Lee Ann, Jessica, and Bryce

Congratulations, Emma! We love you and are so proud of you.

Dad, Mom and Ben 53

Molly Ray

Second Place Narrative Eighth Grade Tupelo Middle School

“Indian Summer”

In 1851, the American army was forcing Native American tribes to live in reservations. These reservations were like boot camps, and many Indians were beaten.

On one particular reservation, a Navajo girl named Tala lived with her father, Chief Annawann.

It was a beautiful, golden summer, one perfect for planting corn. Tala worked in the cornfields day after day under the sweltering sun. Cayden was a young American soldier under the command of General Bryant. He was in charge of guarding Tala and her group of Navajo corn-planters.

One day, Cayden accidentally stepped on Tala’s hand; he quickly apologized and offered to wrap it for her. Tala averted her eyes for she knew the punishment for speaking to the soldiers. However, Tala

DAILY JOURNAL

caught a glimpse of the soldier’s deep blue eyes, and she realized he was not like the rest. Cayden whispered, “I don’t think it’s broken, but you may take the day off if you wish.” Tala whispered her thank you and knelt down to continue working.

Cayden marched away.

He is very sweet, not at all like the other soldiers I have met...Tala thought to herself as she finished planting the corn.

Two weeks later, Tala’s job had become fetching the cool water from Blackfoot Creek. In the stifling heat, she was tempted to drink it. As she knelt down to drink from the creek, Cayden stepped out from behind the forest line.

Tala was so startled to see him that she lost her footing on a mossy rock and splashed into the creek. As Cayden valiantly dove in to save her, Tala came up sputtering and swam to shore as Cayden sloshed around in the water. Tala reached the forest and slipped into the trees. Cayden followed her into the dense forest. He followed the wisp as her dark hair flew around a corner. He tackled her onto the forest floor, a pile of pine needles cushioning their fall.

“I have watched you for weeks, waiting to tell you something,” Cayden whispered into her ear. Tala pulled away. Cayden reached for her wrist and pulled her to him. “I have loved you since that golden summer’s day in the cornfield. Please, say you love me too or everything will have been in vain.”

“I know you are different from others. You are special and as fair as the yellow sun. I do love you.

I do not see how it could work between us, for I am bound to my people and you to your uniform. Our love does not matter,” Tala responded.

Cayden bent down and kissed her brown lips.

“We must run away from this. To the East! Away from this hate on both sides!”

“How? When I do not even know your name?”

“I am Cayden. Who are you?”

“My name is Tala, daughter of Chief Annawann.”

Well, Tala of Chief Annawann, meet me here tomorrow night after the harvest dance. I will be waiting.” _____________________________________Molly Ray’s message is on page 17

Norbord Mississippi, LLC. 1194 Highway 145 Guntown, Mississippi USA 38849

Tel: (662) 348-2800 • Fax: (662) 348-2899 • www.norbord.com

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16

Molly, we ae so thankful to be blessed with such a hardworking and talented daughter as you. We love you, Daddy and Momma 54

Jordan Davis

Third Place Narrative Eighth Grade Guntown Middle School “Living Nightmare”

Black dresses, black suits, black, cloudy hearts filled with sadness. Salty, salty tears. I could taste the despair in the air. The world is spinning. This wasn’t supposed to happen! We had everything planned, now what!? I just still can’t believe my biggest fear came true, he’s dead.

It was early August, dawn had barely broken over the horizon. I was slowly going down the long, paved road, knowing our destination was coming up soon. I gripped the steering wheel and looked over at my loving husband, who was going to Iraq for his first time. Sadly, goodbye time had come; we arrived at the airport. Peter got out of the van and slid the door open. He gently lifted our four year old daughter, Adalynn Grace, out of her pink polka-dotted car seat. I went to the back and loaded his beige bags onto the cargo plane.

I walked back around the silver Sierra van to my husband softly murmuring to our daughter: “I love you. I promise I’ll be home later. You’re daddy’s princess. I love you.”

I couldn’t help but get teary eyed, already dreading the questions Addie would be asking. “When’s daddy coming home?” I wouldn’t be able to answer. Finally he sat our squirmy toddler down.

He slowly walked toward me. Oh no, I can’t do this!

I can’t say goodbye!

“Elizabeth, I love you. I promise I’ll come home,” Peter said, softly putting his arms around my shoulders. “Elizabeth, please look at me.”

I slowly turned my head and looked straight into his clear blue eyes. “I love you. Please come home.” These seemed to be the only words I could choke out.

Then suddenly the troops were called to attention. Peter kissed me hard like it was his way of telling me he’d be home. He ran to get into a straight, stark position, with his hand to his forehead. Adalynn tried to make a run for him, but I caught her.

“Daddy, NO! Don’t go! PLEASE DADDY!” she

wailed, twisting and turning in my arms. That cry for wanting and sadness haunted me since.

It’s been ten months since that awful day. Every night I wake up with the same nightmare. I’m in a wicked, twisted graveyard. There’s only one gravestone. It’s carvings and words puzzle me. One red rose sits at the top of the dead, brown grass that adds a splash of color to the grey background.

Suddenly, the engravings make words. Peter John Davis, loving husband and father, treasured troop.

It had been almost six months since I received his last letter. I couldn’t stand not know where he was!

I missed him!

It was a dreary, rainy day. I woke with a feeling in my gut. I felt as if something was going to happen.

I was in the middle of my usual day. The smell of Comet filled my nostrils. Then the doorbell rang.

Ding dong! I walked to the door with heavy footsteps, feeling something was wrong. I slowly opened the door, looking into a solemn face.

“Peter Davis has been killed.”

What!? I couldn’t feel anything. The world was spinning widely out of control! I would’ve fallen but that man caught me. My biggest fear had come true.

Suddenly I was brought back to earth. The funeral march had begun. I realized I had to live without him, but I couldn’t shut down. Adalynn Grace needed me. The moment Peter was put in the grave, I realized Peter was home. He wasn’t home with me or Addie, but with God. At least I knew where he was now.

NINTH GRADE - POETRY 55

Jenny Bobo

First Place - Poetry Ninth Grade Tupelo High School

“Words”

Words make wars and stop them, too.

Words save lives and end them, too.

Words can be simple or lucid, true?

Is there anything words cannot do?

Words cannot speak or feel.

Words are not real.

That is until You speak.

You feel.

You form words and thoughts and dreams.

Words are not what they seem.

That is until You speak.

FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

|

17

Or write.

Or create.

You can make wars and stop them, too.

You can be what you wish, true?

Is there anything you cannot do?

Choose.

NINTH GRADE - NARRATIVE 56

Caitlin A. Gardner First Place - Narrative Ninth Grade Tupelo High School

“The Neighborhood that Never Sleeps”

In the center of the city of Tupelo, there is a neighborhood that never seems to sleep. The streets are never deserted, houses are never dark, and people seem to roam like they are at a 24 hour Wal-Mart. The people in my neighborhood come from all walks of life, and their faces tell their life stories just like a breaking news story on CNN. The park across my street holds many secrets. Seems like the people that never sleep find comfort in sitting on a bench and telling their problems to anyone that seems to care or listen. I don’t understand why my neighborhood is so busy. I long for the long, quiet, and peaceful days where you can hear the leaves rustling in the breeze and feel the cool air blow across your face. Don’t get me wrong; the days are AMAZING, but it seems that all of the confusion begins at night. During the night everybody’s troubles and secrets creep out into the streets and into the ears of the innocent young children down the street. You can hear couples fighting about infidelities or financial troubles. You can hear young mothers leaving their homes to go to work to support their children. You can hear women living in the fast lane, yelling and wanting the world to know that they are going to have a good time whether you approve or not. I wondered why these people just didn’t do things that made them happy, but I feel that these people have no clue what happiness really is. The people in my neighborhood never sleep because they are searching for something that isn’t there or will probably never happen to them just by pure misfortune.

Having a house in the suburbs, being married and starting a family, having a job that supports you in every way, not relying on someone else to give you the things you need are just a few of the things people in my neighborhood want to experience. One day I sat down and realized that my neighborhood _______________________________________________Continued on page 18

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GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

DAILY JOURNAL

Molly, we ae so thankful to be blessed with such a hardworking and talented daughter as you. We love you, Daddy and Momma 54

Jordan Davis

Third Place Narrative Eighth Grade Guntown Middle School “Living Nightmare”

Black dresses, black suits, black, cloudy hearts filled with sadness. Salty, salty tears. I could taste the despair in the air. The world is spinning. This wasn’t supposed to happen! We had everything planned, now what!? I just still can’t believe my biggest fear came true, he’s dead.

It was early August, dawn had barely broken over the horizon. I was slowly going down the long, paved road, knowing our destination was coming up soon. I gripped the steering wheel and looked over at my loving husband, who was going to Iraq for his first time. Sadly, goodbye time had come; we arrived at the airport. Peter got out of the van and slid the door open. He gently lifted our four year old daughter, Adalynn Grace, out of her pink polka-dotted car seat. I went to the back and loaded his beige bags onto the cargo plane.

I walked back around the silver Sierra van to my husband softly murmuring to our daughter: “I love you. I promise I’ll be home later. You’re daddy’s princess. I love you.”

I couldn’t help but get teary eyed, already dreading the questions Addie would be asking. “When’s daddy coming home?” I wouldn’t be able to answer. Finally he sat our squirmy toddler down.

He slowly walked toward me. Oh no, I can’t do this!

I can’t say goodbye!

“Elizabeth, I love you. I promise I’ll come home,” Peter said, softly putting his arms around my shoulders. “Elizabeth, please look at me.”

I slowly turned my head and looked straight into his clear blue eyes. “I love you. Please come home.” These seemed to be the only words I could choke out.

Then suddenly the troops were called to attention. Peter kissed me hard like it was his way of telling me he’d be home. He ran to get into a straight, stark position, with his hand to his forehead. Adalynn tried to make a run for him, but I caught her.

“Daddy, NO! Don’t go! PLEASE DADDY!” she

wailed, twisting and turning in my arms. That cry for wanting and sadness haunted me since.

It’s been ten months since that awful day. Every night I wake up with the same nightmare. I’m in a wicked, twisted graveyard. There’s only one gravestone. It’s carvings and words puzzle me. One red rose sits at the top of the dead, brown grass that adds a splash of color to the grey background.

Suddenly, the engravings make words. Peter John Davis, loving husband and father, treasured troop.

It had been almost six months since I received his last letter. I couldn’t stand not know where he was!

I missed him!

It was a dreary, rainy day. I woke with a feeling in my gut. I felt as if something was going to happen.

I was in the middle of my usual day. The smell of Comet filled my nostrils. Then the doorbell rang.

Ding dong! I walked to the door with heavy footsteps, feeling something was wrong. I slowly opened the door, looking into a solemn face.

“Peter Davis has been killed.”

What!? I couldn’t feel anything. The world was spinning widely out of control! I would’ve fallen but that man caught me. My biggest fear had come true.

Suddenly I was brought back to earth. The funeral march had begun. I realized I had to live without him, but I couldn’t shut down. Adalynn Grace needed me. The moment Peter was put in the grave, I realized Peter was home. He wasn’t home with me or Addie, but with God. At least I knew where he was now.

NINTH GRADE - POETRY 55

Jenny Bobo

First Place - Poetry Ninth Grade Tupelo High School

“Words”

Words make wars and stop them, too.

Words save lives and end them, too.

Words can be simple or lucid, true?

Is there anything words cannot do?

Words cannot speak or feel.

Words are not real.

That is until You speak.

You feel.

You form words and thoughts and dreams.

Words are not what they seem.

That is until You speak.

FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

|

17

Or write.

Or create.

You can make wars and stop them, too.

You can be what you wish, true?

Is there anything you cannot do?

Choose.

NINTH GRADE - NARRATIVE 56

Caitlin A. Gardner First Place - Narrative Ninth Grade Tupelo High School

“The Neighborhood that Never Sleeps”

In the center of the city of Tupelo, there is a neighborhood that never seems to sleep. The streets are never deserted, houses are never dark, and people seem to roam like they are at a 24 hour Wal-Mart. The people in my neighborhood come from all walks of life, and their faces tell their life stories just like a breaking news story on CNN. The park across my street holds many secrets. Seems like the people that never sleep find comfort in sitting on a bench and telling their problems to anyone that seems to care or listen. I don’t understand why my neighborhood is so busy. I long for the long, quiet, and peaceful days where you can hear the leaves rustling in the breeze and feel the cool air blow across your face. Don’t get me wrong; the days are AMAZING, but it seems that all of the confusion begins at night. During the night everybody’s troubles and secrets creep out into the streets and into the ears of the innocent young children down the street. You can hear couples fighting about infidelities or financial troubles. You can hear young mothers leaving their homes to go to work to support their children. You can hear women living in the fast lane, yelling and wanting the world to know that they are going to have a good time whether you approve or not. I wondered why these people just didn’t do things that made them happy, but I feel that these people have no clue what happiness really is. The people in my neighborhood never sleep because they are searching for something that isn’t there or will probably never happen to them just by pure misfortune.

Having a house in the suburbs, being married and starting a family, having a job that supports you in every way, not relying on someone else to give you the things you need are just a few of the things people in my neighborhood want to experience. One day I sat down and realized that my neighborhood _______________________________________________Continued on page 18

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GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

DAILY JOURNAL

Molly, we ae so thankful to be blessed with such a hardworking and talented daughter as you. We love you, Daddy and Momma 54

Jordan Davis

Third Place Narrative Eighth Grade Guntown Middle School “Living Nightmare”

Black dresses, black suits, black, cloudy hearts filled with sadness. Salty, salty tears. I could taste the despair in the air. The world is spinning. This wasn’t supposed to happen! We had everything planned, now what!? I just still can’t believe my biggest fear came true, he’s dead.

It was early August, dawn had barely broken over the horizon. I was slowly going down the long, paved road, knowing our destination was coming up soon. I gripped the steering wheel and looked over at my loving husband, who was going to Iraq for his first time. Sadly, goodbye time had come; we arrived at the airport. Peter got out of the van and slid the door open. He gently lifted our four year old daughter, Adalynn Grace, out of her pink polka-dotted car seat. I went to the back and loaded his beige bags onto the cargo plane.

I walked back around the silver Sierra van to my husband softly murmuring to our daughter: “I love you. I promise I’ll be home later. You’re daddy’s princess. I love you.”

I couldn’t help but get teary eyed, already dreading the questions Addie would be asking. “When’s daddy coming home?” I wouldn’t be able to answer. Finally he sat our squirmy toddler down.

He slowly walked toward me. Oh no, I can’t do this!

I can’t say goodbye!

“Elizabeth, I love you. I promise I’ll come home,” Peter said, softly putting his arms around my shoulders. “Elizabeth, please look at me.”

I slowly turned my head and looked straight into his clear blue eyes. “I love you. Please come home.” These seemed to be the only words I could choke out.

Then suddenly the troops were called to attention. Peter kissed me hard like it was his way of telling me he’d be home. He ran to get into a straight, stark position, with his hand to his forehead. Adalynn tried to make a run for him, but I caught her.

“Daddy, NO! Don’t go! PLEASE DADDY!” she

wailed, twisting and turning in my arms. That cry for wanting and sadness haunted me since.

It’s been ten months since that awful day. Every night I wake up with the same nightmare. I’m in a wicked, twisted graveyard. There’s only one gravestone. It’s carvings and words puzzle me. One red rose sits at the top of the dead, brown grass that adds a splash of color to the grey background.

Suddenly, the engravings make words. Peter John Davis, loving husband and father, treasured troop.

It had been almost six months since I received his last letter. I couldn’t stand not know where he was!

I missed him!

It was a dreary, rainy day. I woke with a feeling in my gut. I felt as if something was going to happen.

I was in the middle of my usual day. The smell of Comet filled my nostrils. Then the doorbell rang.

Ding dong! I walked to the door with heavy footsteps, feeling something was wrong. I slowly opened the door, looking into a solemn face.

“Peter Davis has been killed.”

What!? I couldn’t feel anything. The world was spinning widely out of control! I would’ve fallen but that man caught me. My biggest fear had come true.

Suddenly I was brought back to earth. The funeral march had begun. I realized I had to live without him, but I couldn’t shut down. Adalynn Grace needed me. The moment Peter was put in the grave, I realized Peter was home. He wasn’t home with me or Addie, but with God. At least I knew where he was now.

NINTH GRADE - POETRY 55

Jenny Bobo

First Place - Poetry Ninth Grade Tupelo High School

“Words”

Words make wars and stop them, too.

Words save lives and end them, too.

Words can be simple or lucid, true?

Is there anything words cannot do?

Words cannot speak or feel.

Words are not real.

That is until You speak.

You feel.

You form words and thoughts and dreams.

Words are not what they seem.

That is until You speak.

FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

|

17

Or write.

Or create.

You can make wars and stop them, too.

You can be what you wish, true?

Is there anything you cannot do?

Choose.

NINTH GRADE - NARRATIVE 56

Caitlin A. Gardner First Place - Narrative Ninth Grade Tupelo High School

“The Neighborhood that Never Sleeps”

In the center of the city of Tupelo, there is a neighborhood that never seems to sleep. The streets are never deserted, houses are never dark, and people seem to roam like they are at a 24 hour Wal-Mart. The people in my neighborhood come from all walks of life, and their faces tell their life stories just like a breaking news story on CNN. The park across my street holds many secrets. Seems like the people that never sleep find comfort in sitting on a bench and telling their problems to anyone that seems to care or listen. I don’t understand why my neighborhood is so busy. I long for the long, quiet, and peaceful days where you can hear the leaves rustling in the breeze and feel the cool air blow across your face. Don’t get me wrong; the days are AMAZING, but it seems that all of the confusion begins at night. During the night everybody’s troubles and secrets creep out into the streets and into the ears of the innocent young children down the street. You can hear couples fighting about infidelities or financial troubles. You can hear young mothers leaving their homes to go to work to support their children. You can hear women living in the fast lane, yelling and wanting the world to know that they are going to have a good time whether you approve or not. I wondered why these people just didn’t do things that made them happy, but I feel that these people have no clue what happiness really is. The people in my neighborhood never sleep because they are searching for something that isn’t there or will probably never happen to them just by pure misfortune.

Having a house in the suburbs, being married and starting a family, having a job that supports you in every way, not relying on someone else to give you the things you need are just a few of the things people in my neighborhood want to experience. One day I sat down and realized that my neighborhood _______________________________________________Continued on page 18

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GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

DAILY JOURNAL

| FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

time. I noticed that a lot of people were auditioning around the time that I would, so I felt a bit of disappointment that I wouldn’t be able to hear them play. One of my best friends, Kaitlyn, was auditioning only a few minutes before me. She plays the clarinet, so she would only be a few doors down from my audition room. If the people before her finished their audition early, then I might be able to listen in on her playing. Kaitlyn and I notice that the drummers are auditioning first, so we go to their warm-up room to cheer them up.

Before we even see the percussion warm-up room, we hear the beating of drums in the hallway.

We peer into the band room and see two of our school’s drummers practicing. We open the door and step inside, immediately overwhelmed by the enormous amount of tapping and beating. The drums all make a rhythm similar to someone’s heartbeat after they have run a marathon - rapid.

Kaitlyn and I wait for the drummers to finish their audition piece to say, “Good luck!” After we 57 finish that, we head to some other warm-up and Lexa Kai Brieck audition rooms to listen to our friends practice and Second Place also wish them luck. When it gets closer to our audition times, we head back to our corner of the Narrative cafeteria to retrieve our instruments, audition Ninth Grade pieces, and judges’ score cards.

Tupelo High School When I enter the warm-up room, Kaitlyn stays with me a little bit to make sure that I’m okay. I tune out all the other flute players in the room so that I can start with my scales. I can feel the stares of some of the other girls as they size me up to see how much competition I am to them. I ignore “Audition Day” them and continue on to my two pieces. Every year, Click...Clack...The sound of my heels reverberatLions Band gives the required pieces out before the ed against the walls of the cafeteria. Hundreds of audition is even near, which gives everyone enough band students had gathered at Pearl High School time to practice. I play my slow song to start with, early this morning to audition for the Mississippi making sure I know when to phrase the music and All-State Lions Band, one of the most prestigious how to let notes linger in the air before moving bands in Mississippi. I had arrived early for the final round this morning so that I could sign up for onto another section. The slow piece is pretty, and the one that I feel the most comfortable with, but a good audition time. I clutched my flute case to the second piece is another story. It involves a lot my side as the doors leading into the school of technicality and scales - two things that are my opened for everyone. I rushed to the table to least favorite parts of music. Even though I don’t receive my judges’ cards and marveled at the tall particularly like the fast song, I feel confident that I ceilings of the cafeteria. I met with other students won’t make too much of a stumble through it. from my school as we headed into our corner of the cafeteria. Because auditions run past noon, we When I feel that I have warmed up enough, I follow Kaitlyn out of the room and head to her warm-up always like to deignate a corner for our school and room. She asks me to hold her music and listen to set up blankets and bags of food so that we can her play. She’s made Lions Band in the past years, relax between warm-ups and auditions. so I know for sure that she will make it. I start to I felt my heart pounding in my chest as I looked look around at her competitors and notice that around the large room. I caught glimpses of other there is one boy from another school that is walkgirls with flute cases - my rivals. I walked up the stairs into the hallways of the school to find my try- ing around and dancing while he is playing. I try to suppress my laughter, but he trips, causing me to out room for the day. I arrived at my room and giggle. This event helps me to relax a little, settling studied the audition list. Time slots ran down the down my racing heart. After Kaitlyn finishes warmleft side of the paper with places to write names ing up, I play a little more before we head to her beside each time. I saw that people had already audition room. There is about a ten minute gap filled in earlier times (the earlier, the better), so I between our audition times, so I stand in front of wrote my name down before noon. her room before having to head to my room.

After that, I went back down to our corner and When I get to my room, I realize that the flute met with all the other kids auditioning. We wrote players before me were taking longer in their audion a sheet of paper who was auditioning at what

may have its problems, but I wouldn’t want to go anywhere else. My neighborhood is filled with love, hope, heartache, and a sense we are all a part of one big family. People driving through don’t see that. The cops don’t see that, but I do. So at night when I hear the cars zooming through the streets at dangerous and unrealistic speeds, I am grateful.

When I am driving down the street and I see the old lady watering her flowers and playing with her dog Cinnamon, I am grateful. When I hear people gathering up the street to celebrate another year of someone’s life, I am grateful. I am grateful because I know somebody somewhere is longing for a home, and they don’t have one. So my life may not turn out like the others. I may grow up and be some fancy doctor changing the world, but I will never forget this neighborhood. My neighborhood.

The neighborhood that never sleeps.

DAILY JOURNAL

tions, so I waited longer to audition. When it is finally my turn to play for the judges, I notice familiar faces in the five judges in my room. I quickly greet them and play a few notes to get a good sound out of my instrument. When I am finally ready to begin, they start a timer as I play my scales. I stumble over a few of the harder scales, but, in the end, I feel pretty good about that part of the audition. I feel my legs start to tremble as I play my two prepared pieces. I close my eyes a little in the middle of the song to calm my nerves.

After I finish, I head to the last part of the audition: sight-reading. This is always my favorite part of any audition. I like how I get to read new music for the first time. I generally get bored playing the same pieces over and over, so sight-reading is always refreshing. I turn over the sheet of music and read over it for about a minute. Finally, the judges say, “Time,” and I begin playing. I play the music knowing that I make a few mistakes, but I don’t stop. I keep going and get through the two lines without having any major disasters. I thank the judges and leave the room, to notice that a few of my friends had listened in, including my mother and sister.

With the nerve-wracking audition finished, I feel like I might collapse right then and there. I can still feel my heart pounding and know that it probably won’t stop until I see the results.

I quickly head over to Kaitlyn’s room and hear her audition. I can’t hear any mistakes, so I instantly know that she will be in Lions Band this year as well.

When she is done, I congratulate her as we head back to the Tupelo corner. We hear a lot of the other students auditioning up until lunch. We head to lunch together with our families and nervously await the results. I pull up the website that will have the results posted while keeping in touch with some of the band students still at Pearl High School. When I get a call from my teacher, my heart almost jumps out of my body. I shakily answer the phone.

“The results are posted,” she says. “Are you sure you want to hear?” My heart drops with that question: did I not make it?

“Yes,” I say with a trembling voice.

I hear her take a deep breath on the other end of the phone. “You made it.”

With that one sentence, I start crying. All the months spent working on the music and constantly wondering what would happen at the auditions had taken its toll. Relief flooded my body as I thank her and hang up. My friends and family sitting around the table are looking at me expectantly.

I can’t even get a word out between my tears.

“So...did you make it?” someone asks.

I nod, and everyone congratulates me. They start telling me how much fun I’ll have in Lions Band and what the band will do over the summer. Lions Band is participating in an international competi_______________________________________________Continued on page 19

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18

| FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

time. I noticed that a lot of people were auditioning around the time that I would, so I felt a bit of disappointment that I wouldn’t be able to hear them play. One of my best friends, Kaitlyn, was auditioning only a few minutes before me. She plays the clarinet, so she would only be a few doors down from my audition room. If the people before her finished their audition early, then I might be able to listen in on her playing. Kaitlyn and I notice that the drummers are auditioning first, so we go to their warm-up room to cheer them up.

Before we even see the percussion warm-up room, we hear the beating of drums in the hallway.

We peer into the band room and see two of our school’s drummers practicing. We open the door and step inside, immediately overwhelmed by the enormous amount of tapping and beating. The drums all make a rhythm similar to someone’s heartbeat after they have run a marathon - rapid.

Kaitlyn and I wait for the drummers to finish their audition piece to say, “Good luck!” After we 57 finish that, we head to some other warm-up and Lexa Kai Brieck audition rooms to listen to our friends practice and Second Place also wish them luck. When it gets closer to our audition times, we head back to our corner of the Narrative cafeteria to retrieve our instruments, audition Ninth Grade pieces, and judges’ score cards.

Tupelo High School When I enter the warm-up room, Kaitlyn stays with me a little bit to make sure that I’m okay. I tune out all the other flute players in the room so that I can start with my scales. I can feel the stares of some of the other girls as they size me up to see how much competition I am to them. I ignore “Audition Day” them and continue on to my two pieces. Every year, Click...Clack...The sound of my heels reverberatLions Band gives the required pieces out before the ed against the walls of the cafeteria. Hundreds of audition is even near, which gives everyone enough band students had gathered at Pearl High School time to practice. I play my slow song to start with, early this morning to audition for the Mississippi making sure I know when to phrase the music and All-State Lions Band, one of the most prestigious how to let notes linger in the air before moving bands in Mississippi. I had arrived early for the final round this morning so that I could sign up for onto another section. The slow piece is pretty, and the one that I feel the most comfortable with, but a good audition time. I clutched my flute case to the second piece is another story. It involves a lot my side as the doors leading into the school of technicality and scales - two things that are my opened for everyone. I rushed to the table to least favorite parts of music. Even though I don’t receive my judges’ cards and marveled at the tall particularly like the fast song, I feel confident that I ceilings of the cafeteria. I met with other students won’t make too much of a stumble through it. from my school as we headed into our corner of the cafeteria. Because auditions run past noon, we When I feel that I have warmed up enough, I follow Kaitlyn out of the room and head to her warm-up always like to deignate a corner for our school and room. She asks me to hold her music and listen to set up blankets and bags of food so that we can her play. She’s made Lions Band in the past years, relax between warm-ups and auditions. so I know for sure that she will make it. I start to I felt my heart pounding in my chest as I looked look around at her competitors and notice that around the large room. I caught glimpses of other there is one boy from another school that is walkgirls with flute cases - my rivals. I walked up the stairs into the hallways of the school to find my try- ing around and dancing while he is playing. I try to suppress my laughter, but he trips, causing me to out room for the day. I arrived at my room and giggle. This event helps me to relax a little, settling studied the audition list. Time slots ran down the down my racing heart. After Kaitlyn finishes warmleft side of the paper with places to write names ing up, I play a little more before we head to her beside each time. I saw that people had already audition room. There is about a ten minute gap filled in earlier times (the earlier, the better), so I between our audition times, so I stand in front of wrote my name down before noon. her room before having to head to my room.

After that, I went back down to our corner and When I get to my room, I realize that the flute met with all the other kids auditioning. We wrote players before me were taking longer in their audion a sheet of paper who was auditioning at what

may have its problems, but I wouldn’t want to go anywhere else. My neighborhood is filled with love, hope, heartache, and a sense we are all a part of one big family. People driving through don’t see that. The cops don’t see that, but I do. So at night when I hear the cars zooming through the streets at dangerous and unrealistic speeds, I am grateful.

When I am driving down the street and I see the old lady watering her flowers and playing with her dog Cinnamon, I am grateful. When I hear people gathering up the street to celebrate another year of someone’s life, I am grateful. I am grateful because I know somebody somewhere is longing for a home, and they don’t have one. So my life may not turn out like the others. I may grow up and be some fancy doctor changing the world, but I will never forget this neighborhood. My neighborhood.

The neighborhood that never sleeps.

DAILY JOURNAL

tions, so I waited longer to audition. When it is finally my turn to play for the judges, I notice familiar faces in the five judges in my room. I quickly greet them and play a few notes to get a good sound out of my instrument. When I am finally ready to begin, they start a timer as I play my scales. I stumble over a few of the harder scales, but, in the end, I feel pretty good about that part of the audition. I feel my legs start to tremble as I play my two prepared pieces. I close my eyes a little in the middle of the song to calm my nerves.

After I finish, I head to the last part of the audition: sight-reading. This is always my favorite part of any audition. I like how I get to read new music for the first time. I generally get bored playing the same pieces over and over, so sight-reading is always refreshing. I turn over the sheet of music and read over it for about a minute. Finally, the judges say, “Time,” and I begin playing. I play the music knowing that I make a few mistakes, but I don’t stop. I keep going and get through the two lines without having any major disasters. I thank the judges and leave the room, to notice that a few of my friends had listened in, including my mother and sister.

With the nerve-wracking audition finished, I feel like I might collapse right then and there. I can still feel my heart pounding and know that it probably won’t stop until I see the results.

I quickly head over to Kaitlyn’s room and hear her audition. I can’t hear any mistakes, so I instantly know that she will be in Lions Band this year as well.

When she is done, I congratulate her as we head back to the Tupelo corner. We hear a lot of the other students auditioning up until lunch. We head to lunch together with our families and nervously await the results. I pull up the website that will have the results posted while keeping in touch with some of the band students still at Pearl High School. When I get a call from my teacher, my heart almost jumps out of my body. I shakily answer the phone.

“The results are posted,” she says. “Are you sure you want to hear?” My heart drops with that question: did I not make it?

“Yes,” I say with a trembling voice.

I hear her take a deep breath on the other end of the phone. “You made it.”

With that one sentence, I start crying. All the months spent working on the music and constantly wondering what would happen at the auditions had taken its toll. Relief flooded my body as I thank her and hang up. My friends and family sitting around the table are looking at me expectantly.

I can’t even get a word out between my tears.

“So...did you make it?” someone asks.

I nod, and everyone congratulates me. They start telling me how much fun I’ll have in Lions Band and what the band will do over the summer. Lions Band is participating in an international competi_______________________________________________Continued on page 19

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18

| FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

time. I noticed that a lot of people were auditioning around the time that I would, so I felt a bit of disappointment that I wouldn’t be able to hear them play. One of my best friends, Kaitlyn, was auditioning only a few minutes before me. She plays the clarinet, so she would only be a few doors down from my audition room. If the people before her finished their audition early, then I might be able to listen in on her playing. Kaitlyn and I notice that the drummers are auditioning first, so we go to their warm-up room to cheer them up.

Before we even see the percussion warm-up room, we hear the beating of drums in the hallway.

We peer into the band room and see two of our school’s drummers practicing. We open the door and step inside, immediately overwhelmed by the enormous amount of tapping and beating. The drums all make a rhythm similar to someone’s heartbeat after they have run a marathon - rapid.

Kaitlyn and I wait for the drummers to finish their audition piece to say, “Good luck!” After we 57 finish that, we head to some other warm-up and Lexa Kai Brieck audition rooms to listen to our friends practice and Second Place also wish them luck. When it gets closer to our audition times, we head back to our corner of the Narrative cafeteria to retrieve our instruments, audition Ninth Grade pieces, and judges’ score cards.

Tupelo High School When I enter the warm-up room, Kaitlyn stays with me a little bit to make sure that I’m okay. I tune out all the other flute players in the room so that I can start with my scales. I can feel the stares of some of the other girls as they size me up to see how much competition I am to them. I ignore “Audition Day” them and continue on to my two pieces. Every year, Click...Clack...The sound of my heels reverberatLions Band gives the required pieces out before the ed against the walls of the cafeteria. Hundreds of audition is even near, which gives everyone enough band students had gathered at Pearl High School time to practice. I play my slow song to start with, early this morning to audition for the Mississippi making sure I know when to phrase the music and All-State Lions Band, one of the most prestigious how to let notes linger in the air before moving bands in Mississippi. I had arrived early for the final round this morning so that I could sign up for onto another section. The slow piece is pretty, and the one that I feel the most comfortable with, but a good audition time. I clutched my flute case to the second piece is another story. It involves a lot my side as the doors leading into the school of technicality and scales - two things that are my opened for everyone. I rushed to the table to least favorite parts of music. Even though I don’t receive my judges’ cards and marveled at the tall particularly like the fast song, I feel confident that I ceilings of the cafeteria. I met with other students won’t make too much of a stumble through it. from my school as we headed into our corner of the cafeteria. Because auditions run past noon, we When I feel that I have warmed up enough, I follow Kaitlyn out of the room and head to her warm-up always like to deignate a corner for our school and room. She asks me to hold her music and listen to set up blankets and bags of food so that we can her play. She’s made Lions Band in the past years, relax between warm-ups and auditions. so I know for sure that she will make it. I start to I felt my heart pounding in my chest as I looked look around at her competitors and notice that around the large room. I caught glimpses of other there is one boy from another school that is walkgirls with flute cases - my rivals. I walked up the stairs into the hallways of the school to find my try- ing around and dancing while he is playing. I try to suppress my laughter, but he trips, causing me to out room for the day. I arrived at my room and giggle. This event helps me to relax a little, settling studied the audition list. Time slots ran down the down my racing heart. After Kaitlyn finishes warmleft side of the paper with places to write names ing up, I play a little more before we head to her beside each time. I saw that people had already audition room. There is about a ten minute gap filled in earlier times (the earlier, the better), so I between our audition times, so I stand in front of wrote my name down before noon. her room before having to head to my room.

After that, I went back down to our corner and When I get to my room, I realize that the flute met with all the other kids auditioning. We wrote players before me were taking longer in their audion a sheet of paper who was auditioning at what

may have its problems, but I wouldn’t want to go anywhere else. My neighborhood is filled with love, hope, heartache, and a sense we are all a part of one big family. People driving through don’t see that. The cops don’t see that, but I do. So at night when I hear the cars zooming through the streets at dangerous and unrealistic speeds, I am grateful.

When I am driving down the street and I see the old lady watering her flowers and playing with her dog Cinnamon, I am grateful. When I hear people gathering up the street to celebrate another year of someone’s life, I am grateful. I am grateful because I know somebody somewhere is longing for a home, and they don’t have one. So my life may not turn out like the others. I may grow up and be some fancy doctor changing the world, but I will never forget this neighborhood. My neighborhood.

The neighborhood that never sleeps.

DAILY JOURNAL

tions, so I waited longer to audition. When it is finally my turn to play for the judges, I notice familiar faces in the five judges in my room. I quickly greet them and play a few notes to get a good sound out of my instrument. When I am finally ready to begin, they start a timer as I play my scales. I stumble over a few of the harder scales, but, in the end, I feel pretty good about that part of the audition. I feel my legs start to tremble as I play my two prepared pieces. I close my eyes a little in the middle of the song to calm my nerves.

After I finish, I head to the last part of the audition: sight-reading. This is always my favorite part of any audition. I like how I get to read new music for the first time. I generally get bored playing the same pieces over and over, so sight-reading is always refreshing. I turn over the sheet of music and read over it for about a minute. Finally, the judges say, “Time,” and I begin playing. I play the music knowing that I make a few mistakes, but I don’t stop. I keep going and get through the two lines without having any major disasters. I thank the judges and leave the room, to notice that a few of my friends had listened in, including my mother and sister.

With the nerve-wracking audition finished, I feel like I might collapse right then and there. I can still feel my heart pounding and know that it probably won’t stop until I see the results.

I quickly head over to Kaitlyn’s room and hear her audition. I can’t hear any mistakes, so I instantly know that she will be in Lions Band this year as well.

When she is done, I congratulate her as we head back to the Tupelo corner. We hear a lot of the other students auditioning up until lunch. We head to lunch together with our families and nervously await the results. I pull up the website that will have the results posted while keeping in touch with some of the band students still at Pearl High School. When I get a call from my teacher, my heart almost jumps out of my body. I shakily answer the phone.

“The results are posted,” she says. “Are you sure you want to hear?” My heart drops with that question: did I not make it?

“Yes,” I say with a trembling voice.

I hear her take a deep breath on the other end of the phone. “You made it.”

With that one sentence, I start crying. All the months spent working on the music and constantly wondering what would happen at the auditions had taken its toll. Relief flooded my body as I thank her and hang up. My friends and family sitting around the table are looking at me expectantly.

I can’t even get a word out between my tears.

“So...did you make it?” someone asks.

I nod, and everyone congratulates me. They start telling me how much fun I’ll have in Lions Band and what the band will do over the summer. Lions Band is participating in an international competi_______________________________________________Continued on page 19

Document: A018DJS051013.eps;Page: 1;Format:(254.00 x 254.00 mm);Plate: Composite;Date: May 08, 2013 16:22:21;JPC 72 DPI

18

tion in Germany over the summer, so I’ll get to make a lot of friends and experience many things traveling from Germany to Austria.

A few hours later, I receive news that a lot of my other friends, including Kaitlyn, made Lions Band.

After congratulating her, I think, Germany with all my friends...that’s going to be one experience that I’ll never forget...

TENTH GRADE - POETRY 58

Mary Ellen Cobb First Place - Poetry Tenth Grade Tupelo High School

These hands are wise and tough, having endured the harsh weathers of life and its torrent These hands are feeble and lifeless, withering like petals on a flower, fingers curling like dried leaves These hands are enlightened and joyous as they pull back the shroud and enter a room of peace These hands are meant for a different purpose now, and that is to life up in praise for the Hands that have always carried them

59

Paige Willis

Second Place - Poetry Tenth Grade Saltillo High School “These Hands”

These hands are soft and pink, They are precious, little things only able to hold a finger and clutch the air These hands are new and unsteady, haphazardly drawing colorful squiggles that will one day turn into works of art These hands are scraped and flushed from catching the falls and easing the stumbles These hands are rhythmic and quick as they deftly form the notes and sing the song These hands are tense and cramped from writing many words, bringing life to many thoughts and feelings These hands are sure and loving as they hold the hands that will belong to them heart and soul These hands are nervous and inexperienced as they cradle a smaller form with even smaller hands These hands are gentle and comforting as they wipe away briny tears and bandage wounds, from scrapes to broken hearts These hands are melancholy with a deep-rooted happiness as they wave goodbye to the hands they once held so tightly These hands are tired and weary as they bid farewell to the hands that once held them

“Inner Demons”

Where am I to go When there are no roads to follow?

Am I to follow the path Of the unknown Or suffer In this abyss of abandonment?

I cannot continue On this current of destruction Where evils and demons await me, Knocking at every door.

Who, then, Will appear at the end of this Long hallway of sorrow and despair?

Could it be you?

Or will you fail me once again?

Paige, we are very proud of you. You are an extraordinary young lady. Keep up the great work!

Love,Dad, Mom and Claire

TENTH GRADE - NARRATIVE

FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

|

19

61

Larkin Robbins

First Place Tie Narrative Tenth Grade Tupelo High School

“Chin Up, Run Hard, Kill It!”

I breathe in, a breath that is meant to sound confident. Instead it comes out as weak and rather sad. I fall forward and grasp my feet. The stretch feels amazing. For the past three weeks this day has been merely a dream, a fantasy, it seemed.

Now it is here! And it feels like judgment day. I creep upward. I am aware that my face, reflecting the storm inside of me, looks sickly and pale.

Anxiously, I snatch my water bottle from my bag as if it were my redemption. The purified liquid slithers downward into its cave, my stomach. The plastic bottle pops and crackles as it drains. PAIN IS TEMPORARY. I tell myself this over and over, hoping that it might be true.

My foot steps forward, though, I do not remember telling it to do so. My eyes, crazy with anticipation, frantically look for her. Left, right, left, right.

My head is spinning! Finally my eyes land on her bright blue shirt. My legs sprint, faster than I expect. My hair is flying. I know what she will say.

I have memorized her words. However, it calms me to hear her clear voice and the reassuring sound of her slow, relaxed breathing. My arms reach out thirsty for her touch, as if I cannot get to her fast enough, as if she might disappear in the blink of an eye. She is looking at me, her face serene, like she is in a sort of sanctuary. She understands and grabs my hand. Her stare, like daggers, fills me with a sudden fright. She might see the weakness, the child inside me. I fear she’ll be disappointed in my cowardice. She smiles. Her thin lips, stretched over time from her constant beaming, move upward and back down. I manage to make out her famous words, words I have heard countless times, BE BRAVE BE BOLD. This woman, so wise, so patient, is my mother. Her familiar arms, like many times before, capture me. My racing heart beat slows. For one moment, I have found peace. My precious moment is interrupted by a siren, screeching at me, telling me it’s time. I resent it, I hate it!

How could it barge in, take my sanctuary, and throw it away?

BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. My feet pound against the hard, dead ground with the strength to cause an earthquake. I cannot believe I am here, just last year -- NO! Pause. I stop my thoughts. I have to focus. I let Taylor Swift take over, her music burst_______________________________________________Continued on page 20

Document: A019DJS051013.eps;Page: 1;Format:(254.00 x 254.00 mm);Plate: Composite;Date: May 08, 2013 16:22:25;JPC 72 DPI

GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

DAILY JOURNAL

tion in Germany over the summer, so I’ll get to make a lot of friends and experience many things traveling from Germany to Austria.

A few hours later, I receive news that a lot of my other friends, including Kaitlyn, made Lions Band.

After congratulating her, I think, Germany with all my friends...that’s going to be one experience that I’ll never forget...

TENTH GRADE - POETRY 58

Mary Ellen Cobb First Place - Poetry Tenth Grade Tupelo High School

These hands are wise and tough, having endured the harsh weathers of life and its torrent These hands are feeble and lifeless, withering like petals on a flower, fingers curling like dried leaves These hands are enlightened and joyous as they pull back the shroud and enter a room of peace These hands are meant for a different purpose now, and that is to life up in praise for the Hands that have always carried them

59

Paige Willis

Second Place - Poetry Tenth Grade Saltillo High School “These Hands”

These hands are soft and pink, They are precious, little things only able to hold a finger and clutch the air These hands are new and unsteady, haphazardly drawing colorful squiggles that will one day turn into works of art These hands are scraped and flushed from catching the falls and easing the stumbles These hands are rhythmic and quick as they deftly form the notes and sing the song These hands are tense and cramped from writing many words, bringing life to many thoughts and feelings These hands are sure and loving as they hold the hands that will belong to them heart and soul These hands are nervous and inexperienced as they cradle a smaller form with even smaller hands These hands are gentle and comforting as they wipe away briny tears and bandage wounds, from scrapes to broken hearts These hands are melancholy with a deep-rooted happiness as they wave goodbye to the hands they once held so tightly These hands are tired and weary as they bid farewell to the hands that once held them

“Inner Demons”

Where am I to go When there are no roads to follow?

Am I to follow the path Of the unknown Or suffer In this abyss of abandonment?

I cannot continue On this current of destruction Where evils and demons await me, Knocking at every door.

Who, then, Will appear at the end of this Long hallway of sorrow and despair?

Could it be you?

Or will you fail me once again?

Paige, we are very proud of you. You are an extraordinary young lady. Keep up the great work!

Love,Dad, Mom and Claire

TENTH GRADE - NARRATIVE

FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

|

19

61

Larkin Robbins

First Place Tie Narrative Tenth Grade Tupelo High School

“Chin Up, Run Hard, Kill It!”

I breathe in, a breath that is meant to sound confident. Instead it comes out as weak and rather sad. I fall forward and grasp my feet. The stretch feels amazing. For the past three weeks this day has been merely a dream, a fantasy, it seemed.

Now it is here! And it feels like judgment day. I creep upward. I am aware that my face, reflecting the storm inside of me, looks sickly and pale.

Anxiously, I snatch my water bottle from my bag as if it were my redemption. The purified liquid slithers downward into its cave, my stomach. The plastic bottle pops and crackles as it drains. PAIN IS TEMPORARY. I tell myself this over and over, hoping that it might be true.

My foot steps forward, though, I do not remember telling it to do so. My eyes, crazy with anticipation, frantically look for her. Left, right, left, right.

My head is spinning! Finally my eyes land on her bright blue shirt. My legs sprint, faster than I expect. My hair is flying. I know what she will say.

I have memorized her words. However, it calms me to hear her clear voice and the reassuring sound of her slow, relaxed breathing. My arms reach out thirsty for her touch, as if I cannot get to her fast enough, as if she might disappear in the blink of an eye. She is looking at me, her face serene, like she is in a sort of sanctuary. She understands and grabs my hand. Her stare, like daggers, fills me with a sudden fright. She might see the weakness, the child inside me. I fear she’ll be disappointed in my cowardice. She smiles. Her thin lips, stretched over time from her constant beaming, move upward and back down. I manage to make out her famous words, words I have heard countless times, BE BRAVE BE BOLD. This woman, so wise, so patient, is my mother. Her familiar arms, like many times before, capture me. My racing heart beat slows. For one moment, I have found peace. My precious moment is interrupted by a siren, screeching at me, telling me it’s time. I resent it, I hate it!

How could it barge in, take my sanctuary, and throw it away?

BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. My feet pound against the hard, dead ground with the strength to cause an earthquake. I cannot believe I am here, just last year -- NO! Pause. I stop my thoughts. I have to focus. I let Taylor Swift take over, her music burst_______________________________________________Continued on page 20

Document: A019DJS051013.eps;Page: 1;Format:(254.00 x 254.00 mm);Plate: Composite;Date: May 08, 2013 16:22:25;JPC 72 DPI

GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

DAILY JOURNAL

tion in Germany over the summer, so I’ll get to make a lot of friends and experience many things traveling from Germany to Austria.

A few hours later, I receive news that a lot of my other friends, including Kaitlyn, made Lions Band.

After congratulating her, I think, Germany with all my friends...that’s going to be one experience that I’ll never forget...

TENTH GRADE - POETRY 58

Mary Ellen Cobb First Place - Poetry Tenth Grade Tupelo High School

These hands are wise and tough, having endured the harsh weathers of life and its torrent These hands are feeble and lifeless, withering like petals on a flower, fingers curling like dried leaves These hands are enlightened and joyous as they pull back the shroud and enter a room of peace These hands are meant for a different purpose now, and that is to life up in praise for the Hands that have always carried them

59

Paige Willis

Second Place - Poetry Tenth Grade Saltillo High School “These Hands”

These hands are soft and pink, They are precious, little things only able to hold a finger and clutch the air These hands are new and unsteady, haphazardly drawing colorful squiggles that will one day turn into works of art These hands are scraped and flushed from catching the falls and easing the stumbles These hands are rhythmic and quick as they deftly form the notes and sing the song These hands are tense and cramped from writing many words, bringing life to many thoughts and feelings These hands are sure and loving as they hold the hands that will belong to them heart and soul These hands are nervous and inexperienced as they cradle a smaller form with even smaller hands These hands are gentle and comforting as they wipe away briny tears and bandage wounds, from scrapes to broken hearts These hands are melancholy with a deep-rooted happiness as they wave goodbye to the hands they once held so tightly These hands are tired and weary as they bid farewell to the hands that once held them

“Inner Demons”

Where am I to go When there are no roads to follow?

Am I to follow the path Of the unknown Or suffer In this abyss of abandonment?

I cannot continue On this current of destruction Where evils and demons await me, Knocking at every door.

Who, then, Will appear at the end of this Long hallway of sorrow and despair?

Could it be you?

Or will you fail me once again?

Paige, we are very proud of you. You are an extraordinary young lady. Keep up the great work!

Love,Dad, Mom and Claire

TENTH GRADE - NARRATIVE

FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

|

19

61

Larkin Robbins

First Place Tie Narrative Tenth Grade Tupelo High School

“Chin Up, Run Hard, Kill It!”

I breathe in, a breath that is meant to sound confident. Instead it comes out as weak and rather sad. I fall forward and grasp my feet. The stretch feels amazing. For the past three weeks this day has been merely a dream, a fantasy, it seemed.

Now it is here! And it feels like judgment day. I creep upward. I am aware that my face, reflecting the storm inside of me, looks sickly and pale.

Anxiously, I snatch my water bottle from my bag as if it were my redemption. The purified liquid slithers downward into its cave, my stomach. The plastic bottle pops and crackles as it drains. PAIN IS TEMPORARY. I tell myself this over and over, hoping that it might be true.

My foot steps forward, though, I do not remember telling it to do so. My eyes, crazy with anticipation, frantically look for her. Left, right, left, right.

My head is spinning! Finally my eyes land on her bright blue shirt. My legs sprint, faster than I expect. My hair is flying. I know what she will say.

I have memorized her words. However, it calms me to hear her clear voice and the reassuring sound of her slow, relaxed breathing. My arms reach out thirsty for her touch, as if I cannot get to her fast enough, as if she might disappear in the blink of an eye. She is looking at me, her face serene, like she is in a sort of sanctuary. She understands and grabs my hand. Her stare, like daggers, fills me with a sudden fright. She might see the weakness, the child inside me. I fear she’ll be disappointed in my cowardice. She smiles. Her thin lips, stretched over time from her constant beaming, move upward and back down. I manage to make out her famous words, words I have heard countless times, BE BRAVE BE BOLD. This woman, so wise, so patient, is my mother. Her familiar arms, like many times before, capture me. My racing heart beat slows. For one moment, I have found peace. My precious moment is interrupted by a siren, screeching at me, telling me it’s time. I resent it, I hate it!

How could it barge in, take my sanctuary, and throw it away?

BOOM. BOOM. BOOM. My feet pound against the hard, dead ground with the strength to cause an earthquake. I cannot believe I am here, just last year -- NO! Pause. I stop my thoughts. I have to focus. I let Taylor Swift take over, her music burst_______________________________________________Continued on page 20

Document: A019DJS051013.eps;Page: 1;Format:(254.00 x 254.00 mm);Plate: Composite;Date: May 08, 2013 16:22:25;JPC 72 DPI

GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

DAILY JOURNAL

| FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

ing in my eardrums. Taylor sings about love and loss. Why is she so depressing? This is exactly the distraction I am looking for. Romeo and Juliet songs are a completely different topic than what lies ahead. My head flips forward. My hair, like a waterfall, drips down my neck. My fingers stroke through the dark sandy blonde strands. As I pull my hair into its ponytail, I look at my shoes. Caked with brown mud and grass, they have been through so much. So many rainy days, days when the suns piercing rays torment my bare skin. Good days, bad days, my shoes have remained faithful. Hopefully they won’t betray me today. With these memories swimming through my thoughts, I almost forget why I am here. Why am I here? I’ve trained hard. I deserve this glory moment, don’t I? I look up to see the girls around me. We are all dressed in gleaming gold shirts and blue shorts.

The typical Golden Wave uniform. Our faces, however, are not the same. I see emotions of pain, excitement, and stress. There are smiles and tears.

These are my girls. I spend every Saturday with them. I have known them during times of intense pressure, times when we couldn’t stand one another. I have seen their smiles, and I know their frowns. Heads bow, and we are praying. I put my thoughts on God and pray for the strength and wholeness that only He can provide. I know He hears me.

Forward, I stagger forward. My stomach jolts, my eyes water, my throat is dry. My stance is like a tiger’s. I am ready to pounce. My right foot is ahead of my left. I am leaning forward. My brain is screaming at me, YOU CAN’T DO THIS, YOU’RE WEAK! I force my eyes shut. Pain is temporary, pride is forever... God is here, watching over me, I will be o.k. I open my eyes. I feel the adrenaline pumping through my veins. My game face is on. I stare straight ahead and hear, “RUNNERS READY?” Dead silence. “GET SET!” One last breath. “GO!” The race has just begun.

Breathe in, breathe out. I am flying. I am a streak of gold. The moment I am seen is the same moment I am gone. My eyes straight ahead, I am fully focused. I barely hear the crowd, their screams muffled by my thoughts. State meet, I’m actually here! I survived the long, excruciatingly hot practices. I bore my eyes into the back of the girl ahead of me. Her uniform is emerald green. I watch her feet. Step, step, step. The rhythm of my feet match hers. I speed up, and in no time, she is only a memory. She is my past. I do this again and again until I have reached one of my teammates.

Soon enough I am passing her, too. My breathing is uneven, but I manage to choke out the words chin up, run hard, and kill it. Pain, I feel pain.

Sparks of fire run up my leg. I start to fall behind. I see my goals slipping away. Why can’t I do this? The one mile mark is right there! I can see it! Maybe this isn’t my race. I have three more years --What is she doing? My teammate’s hand is thrust out behind her back, pushed out as far as it will go. I understand. She is encouraging me not to give in. I

GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST speed up to slap her hand. I must try or die.

Step, pain, breathe. My teammate and I pass the mile mark together, with only one to go. The pain in my leg is unbearable. The sparks have transformed into flames, flames that burn and tear me apart. It hurts. Yes, it hurts. This pain, however, will only be two miles of my life. MY teammate’s breathing is heavy, and her feet are beginning to drag. I do the same as she did for me. My hand shoots backward, the sudden stretch causes my arm to cramp. I hear her steps getting closer. She tells me to go on if I can. I know I can. I have reached it - the runners high, even though I am in agonizing pain. I feel like I know I could break my personal best. I propel my body off the ground. My leg resists. Pain is temporary. It is right there, RIGHT THERE! Do not give up. Push through, just one more hill. The hill. Slow incline, not steep, but longer than life. The demon of the race, where it hurts to try. The flames that had engulfed my leg are now climbing higher. Fifty-five steps, that is all it takes to get to the top.

Step one. Screams, laughter, cheering. Nothing. I feel nothing. My eyes desperately search for my leg, making sure it is still attached. Why won’t these people be quiet? My concentration has slipped from my unsteady hands. I detest these people, these horrible humans, telling me to speed up! What nerve they have telling me to push harder! How can they be so oblivious to my suffering?

My head turns sharply to the side. Their faces, blissfully ignorant, have not known pain. My throat screams. The fire’s bloodthirsty hands claw their path through my body. An elephant is sitting on my lungs. I want to quit. The devil, with his demons, invade my brain. They enter with confidence and strength, ripping my dreams apart with their poison claws. I push them out, and God takes over. I feel as light as a feather. I am floating on air.

Step fifty. This is it. The crowd’s cheers invade my ears. I hear my name. The adrenaline flies through my bloodstream. I feel my cheeks pull back to my ears. I am smiling. Finish strong. I push off the ground with more force than I have ever dreamed I could. My feet cross the checkered finish line. I have reached my destination. My body crashes to the ground. Tears roll down my face, not tears of sadness, tears of joy. The fire retreats, waving its white flag on the way out. It is over, and the journey was well worth the prize. Thank you God.

62

Reagan Chambers

First Place Tie Narrative Tenth Grade Saltillo High School

DAILY JOURNAL

“Rosey Killmen”

Life was beautiful. The weather had just turned brisk and cool outside. This was your favorite season, not ‘mucky’ or ‘freezing.’ Going to the park to our spot didn’t feel optional, it was mandatory. It was almost like God himself was telling us to go. I held your hand as we walked, admiring the way your finger now was swollen around your wedding ring. I begged you to take it off, just for these remaining three months, but you were still so stubborn. Your scarf was two shades darker than your eyes - olive green. We continued our walk past the duck-filled lake, the playground, the sand packed “volley ball” court. I noticed your stride now matched your sister’s, even though your nephew would be two months older than our Rosey.

Our Rosey would be perfect as long as she looked like you: deep auburn hair with your snowy complection. Maybe, if God allowed it, she would also have your dimples. She would love apples and be left handed. Her weaknesses would be keeping goldfish alive. She could eat breakfast at anytime, day or night. She would be the dream child. And she would be all ours.

We reached our spot then. The sun was located perfectly in the sky. I know you would get sunburned, but you refused the protection. Always stubborn. Luckily for your sake, the trees were blocking most of the light; just a few beams shown here and there. Today, your hair seemed to resemble more the color of the golden trees that surrounded us. Still so beautiful. Maybe our Rosey would have this color hair. I pray she wouldn’t have my dull, lifeless blonde.

You closed your eyelids, the sun casting long shadows from your eyelashes. Maybe you closed them to sleep or maybe just to take in the beauty of everything.

I’d never get to know.

Now as I sit beside you in this grey hospital room, I can’t help but think about everything that has happened in these short 48 hours. The ambulance.

The IV’s. The doctors. The nurses. The questions. So many questions. Many questions that still hasn’t found their answer. Why? Why, God? Why am I the one who has to make this choice for not one, but two people? Choose between my wife or my unborn child? Another one: How? How could you have complications this late in your pregnancy? For crying out loud, the doctor said that you, both of you, were healthy.

I wish you were awake. You would know what to do. You always know. Now, I have to be the wise one.

I twisted my wedding band around my finger.

My clammy hands made it slick. The doctor said I had thirty minutes. Thirty minutes. I looked at the clock. Twenty-nine minutes. Why did I have to _______________________________________________Continued on page 21

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20

| FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

ing in my eardrums. Taylor sings about love and loss. Why is she so depressing? This is exactly the distraction I am looking for. Romeo and Juliet songs are a completely different topic than what lies ahead. My head flips forward. My hair, like a waterfall, drips down my neck. My fingers stroke through the dark sandy blonde strands. As I pull my hair into its ponytail, I look at my shoes. Caked with brown mud and grass, they have been through so much. So many rainy days, days when the suns piercing rays torment my bare skin. Good days, bad days, my shoes have remained faithful. Hopefully they won’t betray me today. With these memories swimming through my thoughts, I almost forget why I am here. Why am I here? I’ve trained hard. I deserve this glory moment, don’t I? I look up to see the girls around me. We are all dressed in gleaming gold shirts and blue shorts.

The typical Golden Wave uniform. Our faces, however, are not the same. I see emotions of pain, excitement, and stress. There are smiles and tears.

These are my girls. I spend every Saturday with them. I have known them during times of intense pressure, times when we couldn’t stand one another. I have seen their smiles, and I know their frowns. Heads bow, and we are praying. I put my thoughts on God and pray for the strength and wholeness that only He can provide. I know He hears me.

Forward, I stagger forward. My stomach jolts, my eyes water, my throat is dry. My stance is like a tiger’s. I am ready to pounce. My right foot is ahead of my left. I am leaning forward. My brain is screaming at me, YOU CAN’T DO THIS, YOU’RE WEAK! I force my eyes shut. Pain is temporary, pride is forever... God is here, watching over me, I will be o.k. I open my eyes. I feel the adrenaline pumping through my veins. My game face is on. I stare straight ahead and hear, “RUNNERS READY?” Dead silence. “GET SET!” One last breath. “GO!” The race has just begun.

Breathe in, breathe out. I am flying. I am a streak of gold. The moment I am seen is the same moment I am gone. My eyes straight ahead, I am fully focused. I barely hear the crowd, their screams muffled by my thoughts. State meet, I’m actually here! I survived the long, excruciatingly hot practices. I bore my eyes into the back of the girl ahead of me. Her uniform is emerald green. I watch her feet. Step, step, step. The rhythm of my feet match hers. I speed up, and in no time, she is only a memory. She is my past. I do this again and again until I have reached one of my teammates.

Soon enough I am passing her, too. My breathing is uneven, but I manage to choke out the words chin up, run hard, and kill it. Pain, I feel pain.

Sparks of fire run up my leg. I start to fall behind. I see my goals slipping away. Why can’t I do this? The one mile mark is right there! I can see it! Maybe this isn’t my race. I have three more years --What is she doing? My teammate’s hand is thrust out behind her back, pushed out as far as it will go. I understand. She is encouraging me not to give in. I

GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST speed up to slap her hand. I must try or die.

Step, pain, breathe. My teammate and I pass the mile mark together, with only one to go. The pain in my leg is unbearable. The sparks have transformed into flames, flames that burn and tear me apart. It hurts. Yes, it hurts. This pain, however, will only be two miles of my life. MY teammate’s breathing is heavy, and her feet are beginning to drag. I do the same as she did for me. My hand shoots backward, the sudden stretch causes my arm to cramp. I hear her steps getting closer. She tells me to go on if I can. I know I can. I have reached it - the runners high, even though I am in agonizing pain. I feel like I know I could break my personal best. I propel my body off the ground. My leg resists. Pain is temporary. It is right there, RIGHT THERE! Do not give up. Push through, just one more hill. The hill. Slow incline, not steep, but longer than life. The demon of the race, where it hurts to try. The flames that had engulfed my leg are now climbing higher. Fifty-five steps, that is all it takes to get to the top.

Step one. Screams, laughter, cheering. Nothing. I feel nothing. My eyes desperately search for my leg, making sure it is still attached. Why won’t these people be quiet? My concentration has slipped from my unsteady hands. I detest these people, these horrible humans, telling me to speed up! What nerve they have telling me to push harder! How can they be so oblivious to my suffering?

My head turns sharply to the side. Their faces, blissfully ignorant, have not known pain. My throat screams. The fire’s bloodthirsty hands claw their path through my body. An elephant is sitting on my lungs. I want to quit. The devil, with his demons, invade my brain. They enter with confidence and strength, ripping my dreams apart with their poison claws. I push them out, and God takes over. I feel as light as a feather. I am floating on air.

Step fifty. This is it. The crowd’s cheers invade my ears. I hear my name. The adrenaline flies through my bloodstream. I feel my cheeks pull back to my ears. I am smiling. Finish strong. I push off the ground with more force than I have ever dreamed I could. My feet cross the checkered finish line. I have reached my destination. My body crashes to the ground. Tears roll down my face, not tears of sadness, tears of joy. The fire retreats, waving its white flag on the way out. It is over, and the journey was well worth the prize. Thank you God.

62

Reagan Chambers

First Place Tie Narrative Tenth Grade Saltillo High School

DAILY JOURNAL

“Rosey Killmen”

Life was beautiful. The weather had just turned brisk and cool outside. This was your favorite season, not ‘mucky’ or ‘freezing.’ Going to the park to our spot didn’t feel optional, it was mandatory. It was almost like God himself was telling us to go. I held your hand as we walked, admiring the way your finger now was swollen around your wedding ring. I begged you to take it off, just for these remaining three months, but you were still so stubborn. Your scarf was two shades darker than your eyes - olive green. We continued our walk past the duck-filled lake, the playground, the sand packed “volley ball” court. I noticed your stride now matched your sister’s, even though your nephew would be two months older than our Rosey.

Our Rosey would be perfect as long as she looked like you: deep auburn hair with your snowy complection. Maybe, if God allowed it, she would also have your dimples. She would love apples and be left handed. Her weaknesses would be keeping goldfish alive. She could eat breakfast at anytime, day or night. She would be the dream child. And she would be all ours.

We reached our spot then. The sun was located perfectly in the sky. I know you would get sunburned, but you refused the protection. Always stubborn. Luckily for your sake, the trees were blocking most of the light; just a few beams shown here and there. Today, your hair seemed to resemble more the color of the golden trees that surrounded us. Still so beautiful. Maybe our Rosey would have this color hair. I pray she wouldn’t have my dull, lifeless blonde.

You closed your eyelids, the sun casting long shadows from your eyelashes. Maybe you closed them to sleep or maybe just to take in the beauty of everything.

I’d never get to know.

Now as I sit beside you in this grey hospital room, I can’t help but think about everything that has happened in these short 48 hours. The ambulance.

The IV’s. The doctors. The nurses. The questions. So many questions. Many questions that still hasn’t found their answer. Why? Why, God? Why am I the one who has to make this choice for not one, but two people? Choose between my wife or my unborn child? Another one: How? How could you have complications this late in your pregnancy? For crying out loud, the doctor said that you, both of you, were healthy.

I wish you were awake. You would know what to do. You always know. Now, I have to be the wise one.

I twisted my wedding band around my finger.

My clammy hands made it slick. The doctor said I had thirty minutes. Thirty minutes. I looked at the clock. Twenty-nine minutes. Why did I have to _______________________________________________Continued on page 21

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20

| FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

ing in my eardrums. Taylor sings about love and loss. Why is she so depressing? This is exactly the distraction I am looking for. Romeo and Juliet songs are a completely different topic than what lies ahead. My head flips forward. My hair, like a waterfall, drips down my neck. My fingers stroke through the dark sandy blonde strands. As I pull my hair into its ponytail, I look at my shoes. Caked with brown mud and grass, they have been through so much. So many rainy days, days when the suns piercing rays torment my bare skin. Good days, bad days, my shoes have remained faithful. Hopefully they won’t betray me today. With these memories swimming through my thoughts, I almost forget why I am here. Why am I here? I’ve trained hard. I deserve this glory moment, don’t I? I look up to see the girls around me. We are all dressed in gleaming gold shirts and blue shorts.

The typical Golden Wave uniform. Our faces, however, are not the same. I see emotions of pain, excitement, and stress. There are smiles and tears.

These are my girls. I spend every Saturday with them. I have known them during times of intense pressure, times when we couldn’t stand one another. I have seen their smiles, and I know their frowns. Heads bow, and we are praying. I put my thoughts on God and pray for the strength and wholeness that only He can provide. I know He hears me.

Forward, I stagger forward. My stomach jolts, my eyes water, my throat is dry. My stance is like a tiger’s. I am ready to pounce. My right foot is ahead of my left. I am leaning forward. My brain is screaming at me, YOU CAN’T DO THIS, YOU’RE WEAK! I force my eyes shut. Pain is temporary, pride is forever... God is here, watching over me, I will be o.k. I open my eyes. I feel the adrenaline pumping through my veins. My game face is on. I stare straight ahead and hear, “RUNNERS READY?” Dead silence. “GET SET!” One last breath. “GO!” The race has just begun.

Breathe in, breathe out. I am flying. I am a streak of gold. The moment I am seen is the same moment I am gone. My eyes straight ahead, I am fully focused. I barely hear the crowd, their screams muffled by my thoughts. State meet, I’m actually here! I survived the long, excruciatingly hot practices. I bore my eyes into the back of the girl ahead of me. Her uniform is emerald green. I watch her feet. Step, step, step. The rhythm of my feet match hers. I speed up, and in no time, she is only a memory. She is my past. I do this again and again until I have reached one of my teammates.

Soon enough I am passing her, too. My breathing is uneven, but I manage to choke out the words chin up, run hard, and kill it. Pain, I feel pain.

Sparks of fire run up my leg. I start to fall behind. I see my goals slipping away. Why can’t I do this? The one mile mark is right there! I can see it! Maybe this isn’t my race. I have three more years --What is she doing? My teammate’s hand is thrust out behind her back, pushed out as far as it will go. I understand. She is encouraging me not to give in. I

GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST speed up to slap her hand. I must try or die.

Step, pain, breathe. My teammate and I pass the mile mark together, with only one to go. The pain in my leg is unbearable. The sparks have transformed into flames, flames that burn and tear me apart. It hurts. Yes, it hurts. This pain, however, will only be two miles of my life. MY teammate’s breathing is heavy, and her feet are beginning to drag. I do the same as she did for me. My hand shoots backward, the sudden stretch causes my arm to cramp. I hear her steps getting closer. She tells me to go on if I can. I know I can. I have reached it - the runners high, even though I am in agonizing pain. I feel like I know I could break my personal best. I propel my body off the ground. My leg resists. Pain is temporary. It is right there, RIGHT THERE! Do not give up. Push through, just one more hill. The hill. Slow incline, not steep, but longer than life. The demon of the race, where it hurts to try. The flames that had engulfed my leg are now climbing higher. Fifty-five steps, that is all it takes to get to the top.

Step one. Screams, laughter, cheering. Nothing. I feel nothing. My eyes desperately search for my leg, making sure it is still attached. Why won’t these people be quiet? My concentration has slipped from my unsteady hands. I detest these people, these horrible humans, telling me to speed up! What nerve they have telling me to push harder! How can they be so oblivious to my suffering?

My head turns sharply to the side. Their faces, blissfully ignorant, have not known pain. My throat screams. The fire’s bloodthirsty hands claw their path through my body. An elephant is sitting on my lungs. I want to quit. The devil, with his demons, invade my brain. They enter with confidence and strength, ripping my dreams apart with their poison claws. I push them out, and God takes over. I feel as light as a feather. I am floating on air.

Step fifty. This is it. The crowd’s cheers invade my ears. I hear my name. The adrenaline flies through my bloodstream. I feel my cheeks pull back to my ears. I am smiling. Finish strong. I push off the ground with more force than I have ever dreamed I could. My feet cross the checkered finish line. I have reached my destination. My body crashes to the ground. Tears roll down my face, not tears of sadness, tears of joy. The fire retreats, waving its white flag on the way out. It is over, and the journey was well worth the prize. Thank you God.

62

Reagan Chambers

First Place Tie Narrative Tenth Grade Saltillo High School

DAILY JOURNAL

“Rosey Killmen”

Life was beautiful. The weather had just turned brisk and cool outside. This was your favorite season, not ‘mucky’ or ‘freezing.’ Going to the park to our spot didn’t feel optional, it was mandatory. It was almost like God himself was telling us to go. I held your hand as we walked, admiring the way your finger now was swollen around your wedding ring. I begged you to take it off, just for these remaining three months, but you were still so stubborn. Your scarf was two shades darker than your eyes - olive green. We continued our walk past the duck-filled lake, the playground, the sand packed “volley ball” court. I noticed your stride now matched your sister’s, even though your nephew would be two months older than our Rosey.

Our Rosey would be perfect as long as she looked like you: deep auburn hair with your snowy complection. Maybe, if God allowed it, she would also have your dimples. She would love apples and be left handed. Her weaknesses would be keeping goldfish alive. She could eat breakfast at anytime, day or night. She would be the dream child. And she would be all ours.

We reached our spot then. The sun was located perfectly in the sky. I know you would get sunburned, but you refused the protection. Always stubborn. Luckily for your sake, the trees were blocking most of the light; just a few beams shown here and there. Today, your hair seemed to resemble more the color of the golden trees that surrounded us. Still so beautiful. Maybe our Rosey would have this color hair. I pray she wouldn’t have my dull, lifeless blonde.

You closed your eyelids, the sun casting long shadows from your eyelashes. Maybe you closed them to sleep or maybe just to take in the beauty of everything.

I’d never get to know.

Now as I sit beside you in this grey hospital room, I can’t help but think about everything that has happened in these short 48 hours. The ambulance.

The IV’s. The doctors. The nurses. The questions. So many questions. Many questions that still hasn’t found their answer. Why? Why, God? Why am I the one who has to make this choice for not one, but two people? Choose between my wife or my unborn child? Another one: How? How could you have complications this late in your pregnancy? For crying out loud, the doctor said that you, both of you, were healthy.

I wish you were awake. You would know what to do. You always know. Now, I have to be the wise one.

I twisted my wedding band around my finger.

My clammy hands made it slick. The doctor said I had thirty minutes. Thirty minutes. I looked at the clock. Twenty-nine minutes. Why did I have to _______________________________________________Continued on page 21

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20

make this decision? I heard the light tapping against the door again. Your sister was trying to help, but she couldn’t do or say anything with this situation.

“Go away Amanda,” I said, placing my hands on my face and growling into my cold, damp fingers, “please.”

I heard her sigh and waddle away. I should get help from her. I really should, but I can’t. She isn’t your husband. She isn’t Rosey’s father. I am. Me, Michah Killmen. The guy with a life and death situation.

Twenty-seven minutes.

I was losing time with both of you.

I thought about the day I was going to be a father to our daughter.

The rain had gotten worse. The third time that week. I took off from work to go to this appointment. This was the most important one to me. I remember taking this trip two years ago. How we were both fearless and dauntless. How those five small, small words shattered our whole world: “We can’t find the heartbeat.” How we both broke down.

How we both were broken. This time, we were prepared for the worst.

Your hair was pulled back into some kind of braid. You’ve told me a billion times what the name of it was, but it still slips my mind. Your belly was just now starting to show. You despised it. I loved knowing I had made a life. Your white blouse highlighted your eyes perfectly. Your perfect lips, that normally were holding a breathless smile, frowned as they squirted the clear liquid onto your stomach; saying it brought back bad memories.

This was the day we were going to figure out if we had a Rosey or a Landon. If I asked you that day what it was, you would’ve swore up and down that Landon would be making his appearance. I, on the other hand, knew she was a Rosey Nawel. Without a doubt, I should have played the lottery that day, my luck was the highest of the high. We were going to be a family, finally. All three of us.

Twenty-three minutes.

I looked at you now with the IV’s and heart monitor. You would be furious with me if I choose you.

You loved Rosey more than I did. I just can’t think of life without you. You were there for me for everything: my mother’s death, my first job interview, our wedding, our first house, our eleven deceased goldfish. You are my everything. Thinking of each one brought worse and worse pain. Again God, why? Why can’t you take me instead?

Eighteen minutes.

How can I just have eighteen minutes left? Where have the rest gone? My legs stood before I allowed them to. Where was I going? I knew the question to that: nowhere. I was not running away from this. I moved my hands to my hair. Why? I started pacing

GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST in front of you, making pros and cons. The tears started to flow, and I felt light headed. Why am I still walking? I need to sit down. The sound of the light tapping on the door sent a spark through me.

“Go. Away. Amanda.” I shouted through my teeth.

The door knob twisted, and I almost ran to shut it. Dr. Prewitt’s tired face stopped me.

“Mr. Killmen,” he started, placing his worn hand on my shoulder. He must tell by the way I look that I was about to lose it. “I know I said thirty minutes earlier, but I think we are -” No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. I looked at the clock.

Sixteen minutes.

“Mr. Killmen?” he asked when I hadn’t replied to what he had said. “I need your choice, now.”

“What was the questi-” I started.

Suddenly, your heart monitor was beeping irregularly; faster and faster till it altogether stopped, repeating. Dr. Prewitt was already moving and calling nurses. What just happened? I had fourteen minutes. Fourteen minutes left with you both. I fell to my knees and sobbed, not cried. My heart was crying, slowly breaking piece by piece. I held your hand while the nurses arrived. They had to pull me off of you. I knew my choice. My decision was made.

Eight minutes and a caesarean section later, I finally got to hold our child: Rosey Katherine Killmen. Our dream child had a dark brown patch of hair and your dimples. She had my brown eyes and a full head of hair. She now had the most perfect middle name. She was beyond beautiful. I fell in a new kind of love. I knew you would be proud of the choice. I held her tiny fingers and cooed her a sweet melody you would sing while doing housework. This time, the tears were for joy. I pictured our life with you: stopping at the pond instead of going straight to our spot, eating pancakes at 7:00 at night, having to explain that writing left handed wasn’t a bad thing. I loved her so much already. I looked at the clock.

Two minutes.

It’s always hard to have funerals for loved ones. It was set on a Tuesday, your favorite day of the week.

Your brother gave a speech about how lucky he was, and when it came time for me to talk, I quoted your favorite movie, Annie: How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard. I walked slowly to your grave, still wearing my suit, but my tie was undone. I outlined your name with my finger.

Allison Katherine Killmen April 4, 1986 - October 28, 2013 Wiping my nose, I laid the eleven orange Gerbera daisies on the soft ground. They were your favorite.

I kissed your tombstone, then I turned and laid the single flower on the smaller grave beside you.

FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

|

21

Rosey Katherine Killmen October 28, 2013 - October 30, 2013

Congratulations! We are so proud of you!

Love,Mom and Dad 63

Kayla Neal

Second Place Narrative Tenth Grade Mooreville High School “Redeemed from the Ruins”

It was the longest ride of my entire life.

Uncontrollable thoughts soared through my mind; thoughts about what would happen to my family and our home. I constantly reminded myself that everything would be okay. Somehow I knew deep down that everything would work out for the best, but I couldn’t help but wonder why and how something so terrible could happen to my family and me. Those terrible things that happen to others will never happen to us, or so I thought. I was wrong. Our homes and our lives are things we often take so easily for granted. We do not put any thought into how fortunate we are to have a home and a family until we lose them.

As I rounded the curve that led to my home, my heart sank and tears welled up in my eyes. I braced myself for the tragedy I was about to see and the pain I was about to feel. Flashing red and blue lights lit up the night sky, and cars lined the side of the road as far as one could see. People and neighbors lined the road in horror watching the disaster take place. My heart ached at the sight. It was pain like no other. My first thought was for my family and then for my pets that I knew were in the house.

Isabell, my ferret, would not be able to escape her cage and neither would my cockatiels.

Flames engulfed my home, destroying everything within their fiery blaze. Every picture, every memory, my beautiful birds, and my beloved pet ferret.

All of it was gone. My family and I stood huddled together weeping as we watched the flames consume all that we had. It was odd to me that so much could happen is so little time. I found it difficult to comprehend how quickly life can be changed. By now, there was nothing left to save.

Rescuers fought futilely to turn off the natural gas line that fueled the fire, risking their own safety.

The next morning, smoke still billowed from the ruins, and every once in a while, one could see a tiny flicker of flames peeking from the pile of ashes.

It would be another day before remainder of any_______________________________________________Continued on page 22

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DAILY JOURNAL

make this decision? I heard the light tapping against the door again. Your sister was trying to help, but she couldn’t do or say anything with this situation.

“Go away Amanda,” I said, placing my hands on my face and growling into my cold, damp fingers, “please.”

I heard her sigh and waddle away. I should get help from her. I really should, but I can’t. She isn’t your husband. She isn’t Rosey’s father. I am. Me, Michah Killmen. The guy with a life and death situation.

Twenty-seven minutes.

I was losing time with both of you.

I thought about the day I was going to be a father to our daughter.

The rain had gotten worse. The third time that week. I took off from work to go to this appointment. This was the most important one to me. I remember taking this trip two years ago. How we were both fearless and dauntless. How those five small, small words shattered our whole world: “We can’t find the heartbeat.” How we both broke down.

How we both were broken. This time, we were prepared for the worst.

Your hair was pulled back into some kind of braid. You’ve told me a billion times what the name of it was, but it still slips my mind. Your belly was just now starting to show. You despised it. I loved knowing I had made a life. Your white blouse highlighted your eyes perfectly. Your perfect lips, that normally were holding a breathless smile, frowned as they squirted the clear liquid onto your stomach; saying it brought back bad memories.

This was the day we were going to figure out if we had a Rosey or a Landon. If I asked you that day what it was, you would’ve swore up and down that Landon would be making his appearance. I, on the other hand, knew she was a Rosey Nawel. Without a doubt, I should have played the lottery that day, my luck was the highest of the high. We were going to be a family, finally. All three of us.

Twenty-three minutes.

I looked at you now with the IV’s and heart monitor. You would be furious with me if I choose you.

You loved Rosey more than I did. I just can’t think of life without you. You were there for me for everything: my mother’s death, my first job interview, our wedding, our first house, our eleven deceased goldfish. You are my everything. Thinking of each one brought worse and worse pain. Again God, why? Why can’t you take me instead?

Eighteen minutes.

How can I just have eighteen minutes left? Where have the rest gone? My legs stood before I allowed them to. Where was I going? I knew the question to that: nowhere. I was not running away from this. I moved my hands to my hair. Why? I started pacing

GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST in front of you, making pros and cons. The tears started to flow, and I felt light headed. Why am I still walking? I need to sit down. The sound of the light tapping on the door sent a spark through me.

“Go. Away. Amanda.” I shouted through my teeth.

The door knob twisted, and I almost ran to shut it. Dr. Prewitt’s tired face stopped me.

“Mr. Killmen,” he started, placing his worn hand on my shoulder. He must tell by the way I look that I was about to lose it. “I know I said thirty minutes earlier, but I think we are -” No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. I looked at the clock.

Sixteen minutes.

“Mr. Killmen?” he asked when I hadn’t replied to what he had said. “I need your choice, now.”

“What was the questi-” I started.

Suddenly, your heart monitor was beeping irregularly; faster and faster till it altogether stopped, repeating. Dr. Prewitt was already moving and calling nurses. What just happened? I had fourteen minutes. Fourteen minutes left with you both. I fell to my knees and sobbed, not cried. My heart was crying, slowly breaking piece by piece. I held your hand while the nurses arrived. They had to pull me off of you. I knew my choice. My decision was made.

Eight minutes and a caesarean section later, I finally got to hold our child: Rosey Katherine Killmen. Our dream child had a dark brown patch of hair and your dimples. She had my brown eyes and a full head of hair. She now had the most perfect middle name. She was beyond beautiful. I fell in a new kind of love. I knew you would be proud of the choice. I held her tiny fingers and cooed her a sweet melody you would sing while doing housework. This time, the tears were for joy. I pictured our life with you: stopping at the pond instead of going straight to our spot, eating pancakes at 7:00 at night, having to explain that writing left handed wasn’t a bad thing. I loved her so much already. I looked at the clock.

Two minutes.

It’s always hard to have funerals for loved ones. It was set on a Tuesday, your favorite day of the week.

Your brother gave a speech about how lucky he was, and when it came time for me to talk, I quoted your favorite movie, Annie: How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard. I walked slowly to your grave, still wearing my suit, but my tie was undone. I outlined your name with my finger.

Allison Katherine Killmen April 4, 1986 - October 28, 2013 Wiping my nose, I laid the eleven orange Gerbera daisies on the soft ground. They were your favorite.

I kissed your tombstone, then I turned and laid the single flower on the smaller grave beside you.

FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

|

21

Rosey Katherine Killmen October 28, 2013 - October 30, 2013

Congratulations! We are so proud of you!

Love,Mom and Dad 63

Kayla Neal

Second Place Narrative Tenth Grade Mooreville High School “Redeemed from the Ruins”

It was the longest ride of my entire life.

Uncontrollable thoughts soared through my mind; thoughts about what would happen to my family and our home. I constantly reminded myself that everything would be okay. Somehow I knew deep down that everything would work out for the best, but I couldn’t help but wonder why and how something so terrible could happen to my family and me. Those terrible things that happen to others will never happen to us, or so I thought. I was wrong. Our homes and our lives are things we often take so easily for granted. We do not put any thought into how fortunate we are to have a home and a family until we lose them.

As I rounded the curve that led to my home, my heart sank and tears welled up in my eyes. I braced myself for the tragedy I was about to see and the pain I was about to feel. Flashing red and blue lights lit up the night sky, and cars lined the side of the road as far as one could see. People and neighbors lined the road in horror watching the disaster take place. My heart ached at the sight. It was pain like no other. My first thought was for my family and then for my pets that I knew were in the house.

Isabell, my ferret, would not be able to escape her cage and neither would my cockatiels.

Flames engulfed my home, destroying everything within their fiery blaze. Every picture, every memory, my beautiful birds, and my beloved pet ferret.

All of it was gone. My family and I stood huddled together weeping as we watched the flames consume all that we had. It was odd to me that so much could happen is so little time. I found it difficult to comprehend how quickly life can be changed. By now, there was nothing left to save.

Rescuers fought futilely to turn off the natural gas line that fueled the fire, risking their own safety.

The next morning, smoke still billowed from the ruins, and every once in a while, one could see a tiny flicker of flames peeking from the pile of ashes.

It would be another day before remainder of any_______________________________________________Continued on page 22

Document: A021DJS051013.eps;Page: 1;Format:(254.00 x 254.00 mm);Plate: Composite;Date: May 08, 2013 16:22:33;JPC 72 DPI

DAILY JOURNAL

make this decision? I heard the light tapping against the door again. Your sister was trying to help, but she couldn’t do or say anything with this situation.

“Go away Amanda,” I said, placing my hands on my face and growling into my cold, damp fingers, “please.”

I heard her sigh and waddle away. I should get help from her. I really should, but I can’t. She isn’t your husband. She isn’t Rosey’s father. I am. Me, Michah Killmen. The guy with a life and death situation.

Twenty-seven minutes.

I was losing time with both of you.

I thought about the day I was going to be a father to our daughter.

The rain had gotten worse. The third time that week. I took off from work to go to this appointment. This was the most important one to me. I remember taking this trip two years ago. How we were both fearless and dauntless. How those five small, small words shattered our whole world: “We can’t find the heartbeat.” How we both broke down.

How we both were broken. This time, we were prepared for the worst.

Your hair was pulled back into some kind of braid. You’ve told me a billion times what the name of it was, but it still slips my mind. Your belly was just now starting to show. You despised it. I loved knowing I had made a life. Your white blouse highlighted your eyes perfectly. Your perfect lips, that normally were holding a breathless smile, frowned as they squirted the clear liquid onto your stomach; saying it brought back bad memories.

This was the day we were going to figure out if we had a Rosey or a Landon. If I asked you that day what it was, you would’ve swore up and down that Landon would be making his appearance. I, on the other hand, knew she was a Rosey Nawel. Without a doubt, I should have played the lottery that day, my luck was the highest of the high. We were going to be a family, finally. All three of us.

Twenty-three minutes.

I looked at you now with the IV’s and heart monitor. You would be furious with me if I choose you.

You loved Rosey more than I did. I just can’t think of life without you. You were there for me for everything: my mother’s death, my first job interview, our wedding, our first house, our eleven deceased goldfish. You are my everything. Thinking of each one brought worse and worse pain. Again God, why? Why can’t you take me instead?

Eighteen minutes.

How can I just have eighteen minutes left? Where have the rest gone? My legs stood before I allowed them to. Where was I going? I knew the question to that: nowhere. I was not running away from this. I moved my hands to my hair. Why? I started pacing

GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST in front of you, making pros and cons. The tears started to flow, and I felt light headed. Why am I still walking? I need to sit down. The sound of the light tapping on the door sent a spark through me.

“Go. Away. Amanda.” I shouted through my teeth.

The door knob twisted, and I almost ran to shut it. Dr. Prewitt’s tired face stopped me.

“Mr. Killmen,” he started, placing his worn hand on my shoulder. He must tell by the way I look that I was about to lose it. “I know I said thirty minutes earlier, but I think we are -” No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. No. I looked at the clock.

Sixteen minutes.

“Mr. Killmen?” he asked when I hadn’t replied to what he had said. “I need your choice, now.”

“What was the questi-” I started.

Suddenly, your heart monitor was beeping irregularly; faster and faster till it altogether stopped, repeating. Dr. Prewitt was already moving and calling nurses. What just happened? I had fourteen minutes. Fourteen minutes left with you both. I fell to my knees and sobbed, not cried. My heart was crying, slowly breaking piece by piece. I held your hand while the nurses arrived. They had to pull me off of you. I knew my choice. My decision was made.

Eight minutes and a caesarean section later, I finally got to hold our child: Rosey Katherine Killmen. Our dream child had a dark brown patch of hair and your dimples. She had my brown eyes and a full head of hair. She now had the most perfect middle name. She was beyond beautiful. I fell in a new kind of love. I knew you would be proud of the choice. I held her tiny fingers and cooed her a sweet melody you would sing while doing housework. This time, the tears were for joy. I pictured our life with you: stopping at the pond instead of going straight to our spot, eating pancakes at 7:00 at night, having to explain that writing left handed wasn’t a bad thing. I loved her so much already. I looked at the clock.

Two minutes.

It’s always hard to have funerals for loved ones. It was set on a Tuesday, your favorite day of the week.

Your brother gave a speech about how lucky he was, and when it came time for me to talk, I quoted your favorite movie, Annie: How lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard. I walked slowly to your grave, still wearing my suit, but my tie was undone. I outlined your name with my finger.

Allison Katherine Killmen April 4, 1986 - October 28, 2013 Wiping my nose, I laid the eleven orange Gerbera daisies on the soft ground. They were your favorite.

I kissed your tombstone, then I turned and laid the single flower on the smaller grave beside you.

FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

|

21

Rosey Katherine Killmen October 28, 2013 - October 30, 2013

Congratulations! We are so proud of you!

Love,Mom and Dad 63

Kayla Neal

Second Place Narrative Tenth Grade Mooreville High School “Redeemed from the Ruins”

It was the longest ride of my entire life.

Uncontrollable thoughts soared through my mind; thoughts about what would happen to my family and our home. I constantly reminded myself that everything would be okay. Somehow I knew deep down that everything would work out for the best, but I couldn’t help but wonder why and how something so terrible could happen to my family and me. Those terrible things that happen to others will never happen to us, or so I thought. I was wrong. Our homes and our lives are things we often take so easily for granted. We do not put any thought into how fortunate we are to have a home and a family until we lose them.

As I rounded the curve that led to my home, my heart sank and tears welled up in my eyes. I braced myself for the tragedy I was about to see and the pain I was about to feel. Flashing red and blue lights lit up the night sky, and cars lined the side of the road as far as one could see. People and neighbors lined the road in horror watching the disaster take place. My heart ached at the sight. It was pain like no other. My first thought was for my family and then for my pets that I knew were in the house.

Isabell, my ferret, would not be able to escape her cage and neither would my cockatiels.

Flames engulfed my home, destroying everything within their fiery blaze. Every picture, every memory, my beautiful birds, and my beloved pet ferret.

All of it was gone. My family and I stood huddled together weeping as we watched the flames consume all that we had. It was odd to me that so much could happen is so little time. I found it difficult to comprehend how quickly life can be changed. By now, there was nothing left to save.

Rescuers fought futilely to turn off the natural gas line that fueled the fire, risking their own safety.

The next morning, smoke still billowed from the ruins, and every once in a while, one could see a tiny flicker of flames peeking from the pile of ashes.

It would be another day before remainder of any_______________________________________________Continued on page 22

Document: A021DJS051013.eps;Page: 1;Format:(254.00 x 254.00 mm);Plate: Composite;Date: May 08, 2013 16:22:33;JPC 72 DPI

DAILY JOURNAL

GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

| FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

thing to save. The smell of smoke filled the air and permeated my clothing and hair as I poked through the ashes with a stick. I walked around to the remains of a stairway that had led to the upper level of our home. It was there that I found it. The Bible lay fully opened, blackened but the cover still readable. The Holy Bible stared boldly back at me, and I reached and lifted it from the ashes. My eyes were drawn to the scripture it lay opened to. “Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by My name, you are Mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.

For I am the Lord your God, you Savior” - Isaiah 43:1-3. I turned the pages that were untouched and as white as snow, only blackened around the edges. How had it survived when nothing else had?

That afternoon brought many friends to offer clean clothing, food, and words of encouragement.

Many people I did not know came to offer help.

The outpouring of kindness was touching and gave us much comfort. We had lost so much, but we still had what we needed. We had our family and friends and all that was really important in life. I learned through our tragedy that God is still good and that while things may be taken from us in life, we should use the experience to learn to be more appreciate for today and the blessings we have.

Life is fragile, and it is our relationship with God that gives us strength. I still think about the people who came, and the things they did to help us when we were still too stunned to help ourselves. I remember the Bible and how it survived, damaged on the outside, but God’s message still clear on the inside.

KayKay, we are so proud of you, and the inspiration you are to all of us.

Mom & Mamaw Neal, Haley, Wes & Logan 64

Lexi Weaver

Third Place Narrative Tenth Grade Mooreville High School “Our Miracle”

In shock, I sat at the kitchen table as a small five year old child. My parents told me the news any little kid would want to hear. “Lexi, you’re going to have a little brother or sister!” my mom said slowly.

I was in shock, but I was still so excited! Finally, I

would have a smaller sibling to play with and boss around, but what I did not know was that he or she was not going to be like everyone else’s. This child was going to be special.

I remember the day he was born. I was so anxious to finally meet him after nine months of waiting. It was finally the day my mom was going to give birth to my little brother Ben. Words could not describe what I was feeling. After a long seven hours of waiting, he was here. Little did I know I had to wait much longer until I could even see him.

My brother was one of the few special ones. He was born with paralyzed vocal chords, which basically meant he could not breathe on his own. As soon as he was born, he did not cry like normal, and the doctors had to do emergency surgery.

My little bother had to have a trache. It was basically a white band around his neck with a small tube attached to it. The tube went through a small incision they had to make in his neck. I was so puzzled about what was happening. My family kept telling me I would get to see Ben, but I had to wait just a little longer.

When I finally got to meet Ben for the first time, it was behind a glass window in the hospital hallway.

He was tiny and perfect, yet I still did not understand why I could not hold him. After another three long months in the hospital, my brother and parents got to return home. I finally got to hold him. I was overjoyed! I looked past all the wires and strange band around his neck; I was just excited to hold him for what seemed like an eternity.

Now Ben is ten years old, and he is like any average kid. After many surgeries, trips to specialists, and restless nights, Ben had his trache removed at five years old. As a family, we thank God everyday for our small miracle. Ben proved everyone wrong.

No one ever expected him to be able to talk, breathe on his own, or be normal. I never would have imagined that someone so small and young could impact our lives like he did. It was definitely an eye opener.

Lexi, we are so proud of you!

Love, Dad, Mom, Ben, Ava-Blake, Nana & Papaw

ELEVENTH GRADE - POETRY 65

Quinten Boyd

First Place - Poetry Eleventh Grade Saltillo High School

DAILY JOURNAL

“Mysterious Riddle”

The paper is turning While playing his fiddle No one knows the answer to his riddle Rocking back and forth, day by day Many come from across the way To try and solve this puzzling quiz But to this day the riddle is his

Geniuses, scientists, and mathematicians alike Agree that this man just isn’t right But the man just sits there and nods in reply Never opening his mouth, to their surprise Hoping that one day someone else will try His riddle’s meaning isn’t very deep Only wondering if you might actually think Finally a man comes Although not smarter than the average person The man notices the riddle and thinking twice He smiles as he speaks, and winks as he leaves While the fiddler only waves

66

Hannah Bridges

Second Place - Poetry Eleventh Grade Saltillo High School

“Beautiful Me”

I look straight ahead What a horrid sight to see.

I’m looking in a mirror And the horrid sight is me.

I wish I could see myself From a different point of view.

I wish I could see myself And suddenly be made new.

A broken heart and a fake smile This is what I see.

For once I want to look ahead And see a beautiful me.

I wish I could forgive myself The guilt and shame of my past I wish these chains could be lifted Me, be free at last.

I wish one day, I hope and I pray I’ll make myself believe _______________________________________________Continued on page 23

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22

GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

| FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

thing to save. The smell of smoke filled the air and permeated my clothing and hair as I poked through the ashes with a stick. I walked around to the remains of a stairway that had led to the upper level of our home. It was there that I found it. The Bible lay fully opened, blackened but the cover still readable. The Holy Bible stared boldly back at me, and I reached and lifted it from the ashes. My eyes were drawn to the scripture it lay opened to. “Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by My name, you are Mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.

For I am the Lord your God, you Savior” - Isaiah 43:1-3. I turned the pages that were untouched and as white as snow, only blackened around the edges. How had it survived when nothing else had?

That afternoon brought many friends to offer clean clothing, food, and words of encouragement.

Many people I did not know came to offer help.

The outpouring of kindness was touching and gave us much comfort. We had lost so much, but we still had what we needed. We had our family and friends and all that was really important in life. I learned through our tragedy that God is still good and that while things may be taken from us in life, we should use the experience to learn to be more appreciate for today and the blessings we have.

Life is fragile, and it is our relationship with God that gives us strength. I still think about the people who came, and the things they did to help us when we were still too stunned to help ourselves. I remember the Bible and how it survived, damaged on the outside, but God’s message still clear on the inside.

KayKay, we are so proud of you, and the inspiration you are to all of us.

Mom & Mamaw Neal, Haley, Wes & Logan 64

Lexi Weaver

Third Place Narrative Tenth Grade Mooreville High School “Our Miracle”

In shock, I sat at the kitchen table as a small five year old child. My parents told me the news any little kid would want to hear. “Lexi, you’re going to have a little brother or sister!” my mom said slowly.

I was in shock, but I was still so excited! Finally, I

would have a smaller sibling to play with and boss around, but what I did not know was that he or she was not going to be like everyone else’s. This child was going to be special.

I remember the day he was born. I was so anxious to finally meet him after nine months of waiting. It was finally the day my mom was going to give birth to my little brother Ben. Words could not describe what I was feeling. After a long seven hours of waiting, he was here. Little did I know I had to wait much longer until I could even see him.

My brother was one of the few special ones. He was born with paralyzed vocal chords, which basically meant he could not breathe on his own. As soon as he was born, he did not cry like normal, and the doctors had to do emergency surgery.

My little bother had to have a trache. It was basically a white band around his neck with a small tube attached to it. The tube went through a small incision they had to make in his neck. I was so puzzled about what was happening. My family kept telling me I would get to see Ben, but I had to wait just a little longer.

When I finally got to meet Ben for the first time, it was behind a glass window in the hospital hallway.

He was tiny and perfect, yet I still did not understand why I could not hold him. After another three long months in the hospital, my brother and parents got to return home. I finally got to hold him. I was overjoyed! I looked past all the wires and strange band around his neck; I was just excited to hold him for what seemed like an eternity.

Now Ben is ten years old, and he is like any average kid. After many surgeries, trips to specialists, and restless nights, Ben had his trache removed at five years old. As a family, we thank God everyday for our small miracle. Ben proved everyone wrong.

No one ever expected him to be able to talk, breathe on his own, or be normal. I never would have imagined that someone so small and young could impact our lives like he did. It was definitely an eye opener.

Lexi, we are so proud of you!

Love, Dad, Mom, Ben, Ava-Blake, Nana & Papaw

ELEVENTH GRADE - POETRY 65

Quinten Boyd

First Place - Poetry Eleventh Grade Saltillo High School

DAILY JOURNAL

“Mysterious Riddle”

The paper is turning While playing his fiddle No one knows the answer to his riddle Rocking back and forth, day by day Many come from across the way To try and solve this puzzling quiz But to this day the riddle is his

Geniuses, scientists, and mathematicians alike Agree that this man just isn’t right But the man just sits there and nods in reply Never opening his mouth, to their surprise Hoping that one day someone else will try His riddle’s meaning isn’t very deep Only wondering if you might actually think Finally a man comes Although not smarter than the average person The man notices the riddle and thinking twice He smiles as he speaks, and winks as he leaves While the fiddler only waves

66

Hannah Bridges

Second Place - Poetry Eleventh Grade Saltillo High School

“Beautiful Me”

I look straight ahead What a horrid sight to see.

I’m looking in a mirror And the horrid sight is me.

I wish I could see myself From a different point of view.

I wish I could see myself And suddenly be made new.

A broken heart and a fake smile This is what I see.

For once I want to look ahead And see a beautiful me.

I wish I could forgive myself The guilt and shame of my past I wish these chains could be lifted Me, be free at last.

I wish one day, I hope and I pray I’ll make myself believe _______________________________________________Continued on page 23

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22

GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

| FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

thing to save. The smell of smoke filled the air and permeated my clothing and hair as I poked through the ashes with a stick. I walked around to the remains of a stairway that had led to the upper level of our home. It was there that I found it. The Bible lay fully opened, blackened but the cover still readable. The Holy Bible stared boldly back at me, and I reached and lifted it from the ashes. My eyes were drawn to the scripture it lay opened to. “Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by My name, you are Mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.

For I am the Lord your God, you Savior” - Isaiah 43:1-3. I turned the pages that were untouched and as white as snow, only blackened around the edges. How had it survived when nothing else had?

That afternoon brought many friends to offer clean clothing, food, and words of encouragement.

Many people I did not know came to offer help.

The outpouring of kindness was touching and gave us much comfort. We had lost so much, but we still had what we needed. We had our family and friends and all that was really important in life. I learned through our tragedy that God is still good and that while things may be taken from us in life, we should use the experience to learn to be more appreciate for today and the blessings we have.

Life is fragile, and it is our relationship with God that gives us strength. I still think about the people who came, and the things they did to help us when we were still too stunned to help ourselves. I remember the Bible and how it survived, damaged on the outside, but God’s message still clear on the inside.

KayKay, we are so proud of you, and the inspiration you are to all of us.

Mom & Mamaw Neal, Haley, Wes & Logan 64

Lexi Weaver

Third Place Narrative Tenth Grade Mooreville High School “Our Miracle”

In shock, I sat at the kitchen table as a small five year old child. My parents told me the news any little kid would want to hear. “Lexi, you’re going to have a little brother or sister!” my mom said slowly.

I was in shock, but I was still so excited! Finally, I

would have a smaller sibling to play with and boss around, but what I did not know was that he or she was not going to be like everyone else’s. This child was going to be special.

I remember the day he was born. I was so anxious to finally meet him after nine months of waiting. It was finally the day my mom was going to give birth to my little brother Ben. Words could not describe what I was feeling. After a long seven hours of waiting, he was here. Little did I know I had to wait much longer until I could even see him.

My brother was one of the few special ones. He was born with paralyzed vocal chords, which basically meant he could not breathe on his own. As soon as he was born, he did not cry like normal, and the doctors had to do emergency surgery.

My little bother had to have a trache. It was basically a white band around his neck with a small tube attached to it. The tube went through a small incision they had to make in his neck. I was so puzzled about what was happening. My family kept telling me I would get to see Ben, but I had to wait just a little longer.

When I finally got to meet Ben for the first time, it was behind a glass window in the hospital hallway.

He was tiny and perfect, yet I still did not understand why I could not hold him. After another three long months in the hospital, my brother and parents got to return home. I finally got to hold him. I was overjoyed! I looked past all the wires and strange band around his neck; I was just excited to hold him for what seemed like an eternity.

Now Ben is ten years old, and he is like any average kid. After many surgeries, trips to specialists, and restless nights, Ben had his trache removed at five years old. As a family, we thank God everyday for our small miracle. Ben proved everyone wrong.

No one ever expected him to be able to talk, breathe on his own, or be normal. I never would have imagined that someone so small and young could impact our lives like he did. It was definitely an eye opener.

Lexi, we are so proud of you!

Love, Dad, Mom, Ben, Ava-Blake, Nana & Papaw

ELEVENTH GRADE - POETRY 65

Quinten Boyd

First Place - Poetry Eleventh Grade Saltillo High School

DAILY JOURNAL

“Mysterious Riddle”

The paper is turning While playing his fiddle No one knows the answer to his riddle Rocking back and forth, day by day Many come from across the way To try and solve this puzzling quiz But to this day the riddle is his

Geniuses, scientists, and mathematicians alike Agree that this man just isn’t right But the man just sits there and nods in reply Never opening his mouth, to their surprise Hoping that one day someone else will try His riddle’s meaning isn’t very deep Only wondering if you might actually think Finally a man comes Although not smarter than the average person The man notices the riddle and thinking twice He smiles as he speaks, and winks as he leaves While the fiddler only waves

66

Hannah Bridges

Second Place - Poetry Eleventh Grade Saltillo High School

“Beautiful Me”

I look straight ahead What a horrid sight to see.

I’m looking in a mirror And the horrid sight is me.

I wish I could see myself From a different point of view.

I wish I could see myself And suddenly be made new.

A broken heart and a fake smile This is what I see.

For once I want to look ahead And see a beautiful me.

I wish I could forgive myself The guilt and shame of my past I wish these chains could be lifted Me, be free at last.

I wish one day, I hope and I pray I’ll make myself believe _______________________________________________Continued on page 23

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22

That I’m not the one who locked the chains But I’m the only one with a key Until that day I’ll never be What I want, you see.

For all I want is happiness And a beautiful, Beautiful Me.

68

Sydney Weber

First Place - Narrative Eleventh Grade Saltillo High School

67

Hayley Schrock

Third Place - Poetry Eleventh Grade Saltillo High School

“Monster in My Closet”

Out in the country, there was an old house settled next to numerous fields of crops. The house itself was of average size, and, once upon a time, its exterior was painted a fine white, a perfect color to suit the picturesque setting it was in. But, the paint had long since peeled and chipped off, leaving the once pristine home looking a bit worn. The steps lead“Mother” ing up to the front porch creaked and groaned with Little girl, little girl, little red-headed girl every foot-fall, blades of grass and dandelions Hair so fine, innocent and only age five growing from the cracks in the wood. Inside the Grasped hold of her mother’s hand and wouldn’t let house, there was a long, narrow staircase on the left go. side of the small foyer, leading to the second floor So dependent was she on that soft caring hand, of the house.

At the top, there was a landing, and Her mother was her guardian, her rock, her at the very end of it, a door was cracked, a soft light Northern Star. from inside the room leaking out to illuminate the landing. The light was coming from the bedroom Little girl, little girl, growing everyday of a young boy. The child’s dwelling was painted a Thirteen and at a loss to where she’s headed cool, olive, green, and a mobile made of glowing Her mother, with endless determination, is where stars and planets hung from the ceiling, casting a she turns. calming glow over the quarters and reflecting off of Her mother, a woman who, with such poise, the classic rock posters adorning the walls. exhibits magnanimity; The owner of the room, a small, blond-haired A loving woman who can smile in the darkest of boy, was sitting cross-legged on his twin bed, stutimes, diously poring over a tattered book by the light of Who stands strong against life’s unpredictable his bedside table. His short hair was mussed, obvitwists and turns; ously from the way he was absentmindedly runHer mother is her motivation, her role-model. ning his fingers through the pale strands, focused on the book, but on other, more concerning matLittle girl, little girl, not so little anymore Dreams and struggles of her own at age seventeen, ters as well. With a sigh, the boy sat up and stretched, groaning as his muscles stretched and Crumbling under the pressure, she looks to her his joints popped. Frowning, the youth looked mother Lady of grace, Lady of forgiveness, Lady of strength; around his room, studying every shadow on the walls, looking for something. A creak came from With devotion to God and love for all, the landing outside his bedroom door, causing him Patience so tenacious and sympathy so abundant, to tense and snap to look in the direction from Her mother is, and will always be her inspiration. whence it came. An excited energy ran through him, his little heart pounding with adrenaline as he Little girl, little girl, little red-headed girl hopped off his bed, causing the wooden floor to Couldn’t love her mother anymore in the world. groan under his weight. Another creak sounded from his closet, which was slightly ajar, causing him to frown before creeping closer to investigate.

With slight hesitation, the child reached out and took the cold, tarnished doorknob in his hand, twisting it slowly. As he did so, a cool breeze came through the open window by his bed, turning the pages of his forgotten book and sending a chill down his spine as the cold crept up his back through his thin t-shirt. The boy shuddered briefly

ELEVENTH GRADE - NARRATIVE

FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

|

23

before flinging the closet door open, a stern expression set on his face that immediately fell when he was met only with a few shirts hanging inside and long-forgotten toys scattered on the floor of the closet. Sighing, the boy pushed the door closed with the tips of his small fingers and spun on his heel to return to bed to read. All of a sudden, large, frigid hands gripped his torso and lifted him into the air, spinning him around, causing the child to let out a yelp of surprise and fear. The blond craned his neck to see who, or what, had gotten him. He let out a shriek as his pale eyes landed on a tall, slender man dressed in a suit. The man had alabaster skin, dark hair, and shadows under his glowing orange eyes. A smirk was playing on his lips, showing off the sharp fangs that were his canines.

The boy was in complete shock for a moment, but it melted away as a giggle escaped his lips.

“There you are, Galahad!” The boy grinned as he wrapped his arms around the man’s neck and hugged him. “I thought I had lost you!”

The phantom of a man chuckled softly. “I’m not going anywhere, Leo.” A small smile graced his lips as he whispered gently to the child. “You have no need to fear, for I will always protect you. And I’ll always be your boogeyman.”

69

Dillon Colt Hall

Second Place Narrative Eleventh Grade Saltillo High School

“Before the Fight”

The warrior stood, sword and shield in hand, staring down the adversary before him. He set his feet, left foot advancing; his eyes never leaving the beast. His sword hand was flexed, ready to react to the smallest hint of the beginning of a battle that would inevitably begin, whether he was ready or not. He shifted his shield hand, pushing his forearm farther in to the straps of the finely-smithed metal for more protection. The hot air of the warrior became condensation on his face as the frigid climate nipped at his hands, his feet, and his neck.

He looked a statue except for the heaving of his chest and the slow gaze of his eyes over the beast.

The beast, moving his long, scaly tail like the rolling of the ocean, gazed back at the warrior, crouching down into the rock ground, ready to pounce. The warrior observed and noted every part of the enemy before him, from head to tail. Its head bobbed with its breathing, releasing smoke _______________________________________________Continued on page 24

Document: A023DJS051013.eps;Page: 1;Format:(254.00 x 254.00 mm);Plate: Composite;Date: May 08, 2013 16:23:09;JPC 72 DPI

GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

DAILY JOURNAL

That I’m not the one who locked the chains But I’m the only one with a key Until that day I’ll never be What I want, you see.

For all I want is happiness And a beautiful, Beautiful Me.

68

Sydney Weber

First Place - Narrative Eleventh Grade Saltillo High School

67

Hayley Schrock

Third Place - Poetry Eleventh Grade Saltillo High School

“Monster in My Closet”

Out in the country, there was an old house settled next to numerous fields of crops. The house itself was of average size, and, once upon a time, its exterior was painted a fine white, a perfect color to suit the picturesque setting it was in. But, the paint had long since peeled and chipped off, leaving the once pristine home looking a bit worn. The steps lead“Mother” ing up to the front porch creaked and groaned with Little girl, little girl, little red-headed girl every foot-fall, blades of grass and dandelions Hair so fine, innocent and only age five growing from the cracks in the wood. Inside the Grasped hold of her mother’s hand and wouldn’t let house, there was a long, narrow staircase on the left go. side of the small foyer, leading to the second floor So dependent was she on that soft caring hand, of the house.

At the top, there was a landing, and Her mother was her guardian, her rock, her at the very end of it, a door was cracked, a soft light Northern Star. from inside the room leaking out to illuminate the landing. The light was coming from the bedroom Little girl, little girl, growing everyday of a young boy. The child’s dwelling was painted a Thirteen and at a loss to where she’s headed cool, olive, green, and a mobile made of glowing Her mother, with endless determination, is where stars and planets hung from the ceiling, casting a she turns. calming glow over the quarters and reflecting off of Her mother, a woman who, with such poise, the classic rock posters adorning the walls. exhibits magnanimity; The owner of the room, a small, blond-haired A loving woman who can smile in the darkest of boy, was sitting cross-legged on his twin bed, stutimes, diously poring over a tattered book by the light of Who stands strong against life’s unpredictable his bedside table. His short hair was mussed, obvitwists and turns; ously from the way he was absentmindedly runHer mother is her motivation, her role-model. ning his fingers through the pale strands, focused on the book, but on other, more concerning matLittle girl, little girl, not so little anymore Dreams and struggles of her own at age seventeen, ters as well. With a sigh, the boy sat up and stretched, groaning as his muscles stretched and Crumbling under the pressure, she looks to her his joints popped. Frowning, the youth looked mother Lady of grace, Lady of forgiveness, Lady of strength; around his room, studying every shadow on the walls, looking for something. A creak came from With devotion to God and love for all, the landing outside his bedroom door, causing him Patience so tenacious and sympathy so abundant, to tense and snap to look in the direction from Her mother is, and will always be her inspiration. whence it came. An excited energy ran through him, his little heart pounding with adrenaline as he Little girl, little girl, little red-headed girl hopped off his bed, causing the wooden floor to Couldn’t love her mother anymore in the world. groan under his weight. Another creak sounded from his closet, which was slightly ajar, causing him to frown before creeping closer to investigate.

With slight hesitation, the child reached out and took the cold, tarnished doorknob in his hand, twisting it slowly. As he did so, a cool breeze came through the open window by his bed, turning the pages of his forgotten book and sending a chill down his spine as the cold crept up his back through his thin t-shirt. The boy shuddered briefly

ELEVENTH GRADE - NARRATIVE

FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

|

23

before flinging the closet door open, a stern expression set on his face that immediately fell when he was met only with a few shirts hanging inside and long-forgotten toys scattered on the floor of the closet. Sighing, the boy pushed the door closed with the tips of his small fingers and spun on his heel to return to bed to read. All of a sudden, large, frigid hands gripped his torso and lifted him into the air, spinning him around, causing the child to let out a yelp of surprise and fear. The blond craned his neck to see who, or what, had gotten him. He let out a shriek as his pale eyes landed on a tall, slender man dressed in a suit. The man had alabaster skin, dark hair, and shadows under his glowing orange eyes. A smirk was playing on his lips, showing off the sharp fangs that were his canines.

The boy was in complete shock for a moment, but it melted away as a giggle escaped his lips.

“There you are, Galahad!” The boy grinned as he wrapped his arms around the man’s neck and hugged him. “I thought I had lost you!”

The phantom of a man chuckled softly. “I’m not going anywhere, Leo.” A small smile graced his lips as he whispered gently to the child. “You have no need to fear, for I will always protect you. And I’ll always be your boogeyman.”

69

Dillon Colt Hall

Second Place Narrative Eleventh Grade Saltillo High School

“Before the Fight”

The warrior stood, sword and shield in hand, staring down the adversary before him. He set his feet, left foot advancing; his eyes never leaving the beast. His sword hand was flexed, ready to react to the smallest hint of the beginning of a battle that would inevitably begin, whether he was ready or not. He shifted his shield hand, pushing his forearm farther in to the straps of the finely-smithed metal for more protection. The hot air of the warrior became condensation on his face as the frigid climate nipped at his hands, his feet, and his neck.

He looked a statue except for the heaving of his chest and the slow gaze of his eyes over the beast.

The beast, moving his long, scaly tail like the rolling of the ocean, gazed back at the warrior, crouching down into the rock ground, ready to pounce. The warrior observed and noted every part of the enemy before him, from head to tail. Its head bobbed with its breathing, releasing smoke _______________________________________________Continued on page 24

Document: A023DJS051013.eps;Page: 1;Format:(254.00 x 254.00 mm);Plate: Composite;Date: May 08, 2013 16:23:09;JPC 72 DPI

GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

DAILY JOURNAL

That I’m not the one who locked the chains But I’m the only one with a key Until that day I’ll never be What I want, you see.

For all I want is happiness And a beautiful, Beautiful Me.

68

Sydney Weber

First Place - Narrative Eleventh Grade Saltillo High School

67

Hayley Schrock

Third Place - Poetry Eleventh Grade Saltillo High School

“Monster in My Closet”

Out in the country, there was an old house settled next to numerous fields of crops. The house itself was of average size, and, once upon a time, its exterior was painted a fine white, a perfect color to suit the picturesque setting it was in. But, the paint had long since peeled and chipped off, leaving the once pristine home looking a bit worn. The steps lead“Mother” ing up to the front porch creaked and groaned with Little girl, little girl, little red-headed girl every foot-fall, blades of grass and dandelions Hair so fine, innocent and only age five growing from the cracks in the wood. Inside the Grasped hold of her mother’s hand and wouldn’t let house, there was a long, narrow staircase on the left go. side of the small foyer, leading to the second floor So dependent was she on that soft caring hand, of the house.

At the top, there was a landing, and Her mother was her guardian, her rock, her at the very end of it, a door was cracked, a soft light Northern Star. from inside the room leaking out to illuminate the landing. The light was coming from the bedroom Little girl, little girl, growing everyday of a young boy. The child’s dwelling was painted a Thirteen and at a loss to where she’s headed cool, olive, green, and a mobile made of glowing Her mother, with endless determination, is where stars and planets hung from the ceiling, casting a she turns. calming glow over the quarters and reflecting off of Her mother, a woman who, with such poise, the classic rock posters adorning the walls. exhibits magnanimity; The owner of the room, a small, blond-haired A loving woman who can smile in the darkest of boy, was sitting cross-legged on his twin bed, stutimes, diously poring over a tattered book by the light of Who stands strong against life’s unpredictable his bedside table. His short hair was mussed, obvitwists and turns; ously from the way he was absentmindedly runHer mother is her motivation, her role-model. ning his fingers through the pale strands, focused on the book, but on other, more concerning matLittle girl, little girl, not so little anymore Dreams and struggles of her own at age seventeen, ters as well. With a sigh, the boy sat up and stretched, groaning as his muscles stretched and Crumbling under the pressure, she looks to her his joints popped. Frowning, the youth looked mother Lady of grace, Lady of forgiveness, Lady of strength; around his room, studying every shadow on the walls, looking for something. A creak came from With devotion to God and love for all, the landing outside his bedroom door, causing him Patience so tenacious and sympathy so abundant, to tense and snap to look in the direction from Her mother is, and will always be her inspiration. whence it came. An excited energy ran through him, his little heart pounding with adrenaline as he Little girl, little girl, little red-headed girl hopped off his bed, causing the wooden floor to Couldn’t love her mother anymore in the world. groan under his weight. Another creak sounded from his closet, which was slightly ajar, causing him to frown before creeping closer to investigate.

With slight hesitation, the child reached out and took the cold, tarnished doorknob in his hand, twisting it slowly. As he did so, a cool breeze came through the open window by his bed, turning the pages of his forgotten book and sending a chill down his spine as the cold crept up his back through his thin t-shirt. The boy shuddered briefly

ELEVENTH GRADE - NARRATIVE

FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

|

23

before flinging the closet door open, a stern expression set on his face that immediately fell when he was met only with a few shirts hanging inside and long-forgotten toys scattered on the floor of the closet. Sighing, the boy pushed the door closed with the tips of his small fingers and spun on his heel to return to bed to read. All of a sudden, large, frigid hands gripped his torso and lifted him into the air, spinning him around, causing the child to let out a yelp of surprise and fear. The blond craned his neck to see who, or what, had gotten him. He let out a shriek as his pale eyes landed on a tall, slender man dressed in a suit. The man had alabaster skin, dark hair, and shadows under his glowing orange eyes. A smirk was playing on his lips, showing off the sharp fangs that were his canines.

The boy was in complete shock for a moment, but it melted away as a giggle escaped his lips.

“There you are, Galahad!” The boy grinned as he wrapped his arms around the man’s neck and hugged him. “I thought I had lost you!”

The phantom of a man chuckled softly. “I’m not going anywhere, Leo.” A small smile graced his lips as he whispered gently to the child. “You have no need to fear, for I will always protect you. And I’ll always be your boogeyman.”

69

Dillon Colt Hall

Second Place Narrative Eleventh Grade Saltillo High School

“Before the Fight”

The warrior stood, sword and shield in hand, staring down the adversary before him. He set his feet, left foot advancing; his eyes never leaving the beast. His sword hand was flexed, ready to react to the smallest hint of the beginning of a battle that would inevitably begin, whether he was ready or not. He shifted his shield hand, pushing his forearm farther in to the straps of the finely-smithed metal for more protection. The hot air of the warrior became condensation on his face as the frigid climate nipped at his hands, his feet, and his neck.

He looked a statue except for the heaving of his chest and the slow gaze of his eyes over the beast.

The beast, moving his long, scaly tail like the rolling of the ocean, gazed back at the warrior, crouching down into the rock ground, ready to pounce. The warrior observed and noted every part of the enemy before him, from head to tail. Its head bobbed with its breathing, releasing smoke _______________________________________________Continued on page 24

Document: A023DJS051013.eps;Page: 1;Format:(254.00 x 254.00 mm);Plate: Composite;Date: May 08, 2013 16:23:09;JPC 72 DPI

GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

DAILY JOURNAL

| FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

from its giant maw like a blacksmith’s forge heating up in preparation. Its midsection glistened from the sparkling scales that covered its body, making the beast a sparkling gem in the sea of dark grey and green. Its feet were planted into the rough rock and patches of grass that littered the bluff of the mountain pass, thick claws digging into the earth. The beast, if not better identified as dragon, squatted like a lion ready to bound onto its prey, splaying a pair of veiny wings with their thin membrane and bony structure. All the while the warrior’s eyes never left the beast.

The warrior slowed his breathing, delaying his exhale in order to sync his mind with his body. The beast before him growled a challenge to finalize the battle that was to take place; the warrior responded with the brandishing of his sword and the shift of his steel shield closer to his chin. The warrior continued to stare at his foe, watching the way the beast moved and taking into account every flinch, every breath, and every waver in the stare of his enemy. Though its height was threefold his own, the warrior could still fight from all sides and gain leverage to maneuver, parry, and block. Granted that he could puncture the skin of the beast, he figured that his battle would only be won with endurance, courage, and smarts.

Suddenly, as if running out of patience, the beast lifted up its massive head and gave an ear-piercing roar that made the warrior’s feet go cold. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end, and his heart seemed to thump hard enough to burst from his breastplate. Then, for once in what seemed an eternity, the warrior closed his eyes. The time had come. His fate was to be determined by these next crucial and precise moments. The wind from the North blew in his face and whistled past as if to announce the start of the battle. His breathing slowed to that of a mellow rhythm. The cawing of the crows sounded overhead; they were waiting for their next meal which would come with the next few minutes. His eyes snapped open, now with the fiery blaze that shown like a beacon in the night.

The beast shifted its stance and roared its bonechilling roar again. This time, the warrior roared his battle cry in response, raising his sword to the heavens.

Then, the warrior charged...

Congratulations! Well done!

Love, Uncle Myrl, Aunt Tony, and Michael Carlock

You are a winner! So proud of you!

Love, Papaw Archie & Mamaw Sarah

Super job! You make us so proud.

Love, Daddy and Mama

GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST 70

Luke Hunter Cook

Third Place Narrative Eleventh Grade Saltillo High School

DAILY JOURNAL

Congratulations, Luke!

We’re very proud of you.

Mother & Daddy

TWELFTH GRADE - POETRY 71

Zierra Long “The Boa”

The hissing grew louder. The man scrunched up against the wall as tight as could possibly be. He wished he was invisible. He didn’t want the boa to find him. He kept wondering to himself, “Why won’t it leave me alone? It should be done eating by now, as much as it has eaten.”

He looked around the dark, empty room hoping and praying for the right moment to run, or else he’d be the boa’s next meal. Finally, he heard the hissing grow faint, and he knew it was time to make his move.

He was halfway through the facility when he saw it, and it saw him. Why hadn’t he turned and gone towards the laboratory? He had thought he could escape and leave the boa at the facility, then come back later with some local gator hunters. They would have experience in dealing with dangerous creatures like this, but then again this was a creature all its own.

He and a group of reptilian scientists had been working to create a new species. One that would be stronger, faster, and wiser. They even gave it venom more toxic and deadly than any black mamba or cobra had ever, or would ever, be. But they left out one key thing when creating this “super boa” - something that any scientist with common sense would have given it. They forgot kindness.

The boa stared at the man with death in its eyes and evil malice in its heart. The man stared at the boa with fear in his eyes and terror in his heart. The boa was close now. Ten, maybe fifteen feet away and closing in. Its body was twice the size of an anaconda and twice as deadly. Its strength was that compared to five elephants. Its skin was solid black, helping it to hide in the shadows and strike his prey. But its eyes, its eyes, were the worst of all the things about it. One look into them, and they would petrify any man to where he couldn’t move, giving it time to close in for a kill.

The eyes of the beast had already petrified the man to where his whole body felt like stone. The next thing he saw coming up behind the beast was more petrifying than the boa itself. The boa, and the other scientists had created, was now a mother.

And as her seven babies came out of the shadows and surrounded the man, he wondered to himself one last thought. “For a man as intellectual as I am, even called a genius by some, how could I make one fatal mistake that created an abomination?”

First Place - Poetry Twelfth Grade Tupelo High School

“Self Proclaimed”

I am a realist...a dreamer I wonder how these demons co-exist I hear naysayers...encouragers I want to be I am

I pretend to be greater than my mother’s name I feel I am the Great Dame I touch...tamper I worry...scream...scamper I cry over nothing I am I understand limitations I say I set my own expectations I dream I try I hope I am self-proclaimed

Congratulations to you, Zierra Long!

Mary Ruff 72

Alaina Newby

Second Place - Poetry Twelfth Grade Tupelo High School

“My Prayer”

Dear God, I pray that You will help them Guide them to see

_______________________________________________Continued on page 25

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24

| FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

from its giant maw like a blacksmith’s forge heating up in preparation. Its midsection glistened from the sparkling scales that covered its body, making the beast a sparkling gem in the sea of dark grey and green. Its feet were planted into the rough rock and patches of grass that littered the bluff of the mountain pass, thick claws digging into the earth. The beast, if not better identified as dragon, squatted like a lion ready to bound onto its prey, splaying a pair of veiny wings with their thin membrane and bony structure. All the while the warrior’s eyes never left the beast.

The warrior slowed his breathing, delaying his exhale in order to sync his mind with his body. The beast before him growled a challenge to finalize the battle that was to take place; the warrior responded with the brandishing of his sword and the shift of his steel shield closer to his chin. The warrior continued to stare at his foe, watching the way the beast moved and taking into account every flinch, every breath, and every waver in the stare of his enemy. Though its height was threefold his own, the warrior could still fight from all sides and gain leverage to maneuver, parry, and block. Granted that he could puncture the skin of the beast, he figured that his battle would only be won with endurance, courage, and smarts.

Suddenly, as if running out of patience, the beast lifted up its massive head and gave an ear-piercing roar that made the warrior’s feet go cold. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end, and his heart seemed to thump hard enough to burst from his breastplate. Then, for once in what seemed an eternity, the warrior closed his eyes. The time had come. His fate was to be determined by these next crucial and precise moments. The wind from the North blew in his face and whistled past as if to announce the start of the battle. His breathing slowed to that of a mellow rhythm. The cawing of the crows sounded overhead; they were waiting for their next meal which would come with the next few minutes. His eyes snapped open, now with the fiery blaze that shown like a beacon in the night.

The beast shifted its stance and roared its bonechilling roar again. This time, the warrior roared his battle cry in response, raising his sword to the heavens.

Then, the warrior charged...

Congratulations! Well done!

Love, Uncle Myrl, Aunt Tony, and Michael Carlock

You are a winner! So proud of you!

Love, Papaw Archie & Mamaw Sarah

Super job! You make us so proud.

Love, Daddy and Mama

GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST 70

Luke Hunter Cook

Third Place Narrative Eleventh Grade Saltillo High School

DAILY JOURNAL

Congratulations, Luke!

We’re very proud of you.

Mother & Daddy

TWELFTH GRADE - POETRY 71

Zierra Long “The Boa”

The hissing grew louder. The man scrunched up against the wall as tight as could possibly be. He wished he was invisible. He didn’t want the boa to find him. He kept wondering to himself, “Why won’t it leave me alone? It should be done eating by now, as much as it has eaten.”

He looked around the dark, empty room hoping and praying for the right moment to run, or else he’d be the boa’s next meal. Finally, he heard the hissing grow faint, and he knew it was time to make his move.

He was halfway through the facility when he saw it, and it saw him. Why hadn’t he turned and gone towards the laboratory? He had thought he could escape and leave the boa at the facility, then come back later with some local gator hunters. They would have experience in dealing with dangerous creatures like this, but then again this was a creature all its own.

He and a group of reptilian scientists had been working to create a new species. One that would be stronger, faster, and wiser. They even gave it venom more toxic and deadly than any black mamba or cobra had ever, or would ever, be. But they left out one key thing when creating this “super boa” - something that any scientist with common sense would have given it. They forgot kindness.

The boa stared at the man with death in its eyes and evil malice in its heart. The man stared at the boa with fear in his eyes and terror in his heart. The boa was close now. Ten, maybe fifteen feet away and closing in. Its body was twice the size of an anaconda and twice as deadly. Its strength was that compared to five elephants. Its skin was solid black, helping it to hide in the shadows and strike his prey. But its eyes, its eyes, were the worst of all the things about it. One look into them, and they would petrify any man to where he couldn’t move, giving it time to close in for a kill.

The eyes of the beast had already petrified the man to where his whole body felt like stone. The next thing he saw coming up behind the beast was more petrifying than the boa itself. The boa, and the other scientists had created, was now a mother.

And as her seven babies came out of the shadows and surrounded the man, he wondered to himself one last thought. “For a man as intellectual as I am, even called a genius by some, how could I make one fatal mistake that created an abomination?”

First Place - Poetry Twelfth Grade Tupelo High School

“Self Proclaimed”

I am a realist...a dreamer I wonder how these demons co-exist I hear naysayers...encouragers I want to be I am

I pretend to be greater than my mother’s name I feel I am the Great Dame I touch...tamper I worry...scream...scamper I cry over nothing I am I understand limitations I say I set my own expectations I dream I try I hope I am self-proclaimed

Congratulations to you, Zierra Long!

Mary Ruff 72

Alaina Newby

Second Place - Poetry Twelfth Grade Tupelo High School

“My Prayer”

Dear God, I pray that You will help them Guide them to see

_______________________________________________Continued on page 25

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24

| FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

from its giant maw like a blacksmith’s forge heating up in preparation. Its midsection glistened from the sparkling scales that covered its body, making the beast a sparkling gem in the sea of dark grey and green. Its feet were planted into the rough rock and patches of grass that littered the bluff of the mountain pass, thick claws digging into the earth. The beast, if not better identified as dragon, squatted like a lion ready to bound onto its prey, splaying a pair of veiny wings with their thin membrane and bony structure. All the while the warrior’s eyes never left the beast.

The warrior slowed his breathing, delaying his exhale in order to sync his mind with his body. The beast before him growled a challenge to finalize the battle that was to take place; the warrior responded with the brandishing of his sword and the shift of his steel shield closer to his chin. The warrior continued to stare at his foe, watching the way the beast moved and taking into account every flinch, every breath, and every waver in the stare of his enemy. Though its height was threefold his own, the warrior could still fight from all sides and gain leverage to maneuver, parry, and block. Granted that he could puncture the skin of the beast, he figured that his battle would only be won with endurance, courage, and smarts.

Suddenly, as if running out of patience, the beast lifted up its massive head and gave an ear-piercing roar that made the warrior’s feet go cold. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end, and his heart seemed to thump hard enough to burst from his breastplate. Then, for once in what seemed an eternity, the warrior closed his eyes. The time had come. His fate was to be determined by these next crucial and precise moments. The wind from the North blew in his face and whistled past as if to announce the start of the battle. His breathing slowed to that of a mellow rhythm. The cawing of the crows sounded overhead; they were waiting for their next meal which would come with the next few minutes. His eyes snapped open, now with the fiery blaze that shown like a beacon in the night.

The beast shifted its stance and roared its bonechilling roar again. This time, the warrior roared his battle cry in response, raising his sword to the heavens.

Then, the warrior charged...

Congratulations! Well done!

Love, Uncle Myrl, Aunt Tony, and Michael Carlock

You are a winner! So proud of you!

Love, Papaw Archie & Mamaw Sarah

Super job! You make us so proud.

Love, Daddy and Mama

GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST 70

Luke Hunter Cook

Third Place Narrative Eleventh Grade Saltillo High School

DAILY JOURNAL

Congratulations, Luke!

We’re very proud of you.

Mother & Daddy

TWELFTH GRADE - POETRY 71

Zierra Long “The Boa”

The hissing grew louder. The man scrunched up against the wall as tight as could possibly be. He wished he was invisible. He didn’t want the boa to find him. He kept wondering to himself, “Why won’t it leave me alone? It should be done eating by now, as much as it has eaten.”

He looked around the dark, empty room hoping and praying for the right moment to run, or else he’d be the boa’s next meal. Finally, he heard the hissing grow faint, and he knew it was time to make his move.

He was halfway through the facility when he saw it, and it saw him. Why hadn’t he turned and gone towards the laboratory? He had thought he could escape and leave the boa at the facility, then come back later with some local gator hunters. They would have experience in dealing with dangerous creatures like this, but then again this was a creature all its own.

He and a group of reptilian scientists had been working to create a new species. One that would be stronger, faster, and wiser. They even gave it venom more toxic and deadly than any black mamba or cobra had ever, or would ever, be. But they left out one key thing when creating this “super boa” - something that any scientist with common sense would have given it. They forgot kindness.

The boa stared at the man with death in its eyes and evil malice in its heart. The man stared at the boa with fear in his eyes and terror in his heart. The boa was close now. Ten, maybe fifteen feet away and closing in. Its body was twice the size of an anaconda and twice as deadly. Its strength was that compared to five elephants. Its skin was solid black, helping it to hide in the shadows and strike his prey. But its eyes, its eyes, were the worst of all the things about it. One look into them, and they would petrify any man to where he couldn’t move, giving it time to close in for a kill.

The eyes of the beast had already petrified the man to where his whole body felt like stone. The next thing he saw coming up behind the beast was more petrifying than the boa itself. The boa, and the other scientists had created, was now a mother.

And as her seven babies came out of the shadows and surrounded the man, he wondered to himself one last thought. “For a man as intellectual as I am, even called a genius by some, how could I make one fatal mistake that created an abomination?”

First Place - Poetry Twelfth Grade Tupelo High School

“Self Proclaimed”

I am a realist...a dreamer I wonder how these demons co-exist I hear naysayers...encouragers I want to be I am

I pretend to be greater than my mother’s name I feel I am the Great Dame I touch...tamper I worry...scream...scamper I cry over nothing I am I understand limitations I say I set my own expectations I dream I try I hope I am self-proclaimed

Congratulations to you, Zierra Long!

Mary Ruff 72

Alaina Newby

Second Place - Poetry Twelfth Grade Tupelo High School

“My Prayer”

Dear God, I pray that You will help them Guide them to see

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24

That what You are doing Is simply meant to be They say cancer is a scary thing A scary thing indeed And I just want them to know You will meet their every need Please wrap Your arms around them, Lord And give them strength to rise For You alone are good You are loving And You are wise Your healing hands will comfort them Of that I am so sure And Your mighty spirit will Lead some To one day find the cure Until then, Dear Lord, I can only pray That cancer will be gone One glorious, glorious day I ask that You hold them Hold them very tight And never let them stray From Your glorious light For cancer is but a speck of dust Compared to Your power You stand unafraid Although we cower So in conclusion God, I just want to say I am thankful to You For what You did that day You healed someone dear to me I love her like no other You healed my friend, Lord You healed my mother

TWELFTH GRADE - NARRATIVE 74

Bethany Alexander

First Place - Narrative Twelfth Grade Tupelo High School

“It’s the Little Things”

I knew I should not have taken such a sharp turn as soon as my equilibrium shifted. It’s funny, actually, because when people say that when something bad happens the world suddenly is playing in slow motion, and I never believed them. I quickly learned how right they all were as the vehicle was flipping over - right onto me. A quick life lesson of being cautious in everything I do flashed quickly through my mind.

It was an ordinary summer day, that day. The day would start off just like any other day would. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and I was starting off my day early by babysitting. I parked my car in the morning heat and knocked twice, very quickly, before I walked in without a welcome.

I was greeted by only one of the kids I was babysitting with a warm welcome and high energy. She insisted we immediately jump on the utility terrain vehicle, otherwise known as their “not-so-little” golf cart, and ride throughout the neighborhood before the summer heat became unbearable. Inside I heard a small voice telling me to stay indoors, but I had no reason to argue - the day would soon become intolerably hot, so we might as well enjoy the fresh air while we could.

As we walked outside to climb on the vehicle, she immediately called dibs to drive first. Even though I was wary about letting a ten year old drive me, I agreed we were only taking loops around a neighborhood. What harm could she make on a golf cart? We rode every inch of pavement in our neighborhood countless times, and she soon gave me the driver’s seat. As I accelerated through the streets we knew best, I had a sudden urge to turn around to head back to the entrance of our neighborhood. It was that moment, that instant, that I would do anything to give back. I spent hours upon hours the rest of that summer thinking, “If only I wouldn’t have thought those thoughts. If only I would have continued to go further into the streets and wouldn’t have taken that sharp turn.” If only.

The next few moments were a blur. I didn’t pass out or faint, but a rush of adrenaline passed through my body so fiercely that recalling the next few moments are almost impossible. I know that I screamed. What words I screamed, I will never know. In slow motion, my whole world was turning. The next thing I knew, the golf cart was flipped over and the weight of the vehicle was resting on my left ankle. I was trapped, unable to move my lower limbs, but that was momentarily meaningless. I had to check on the child. She stood up from the accident with barely a scratch, and for that, I will always be eternally thankful. As the adrenaline quickly pumped through me, I slowly inched the vehicle off the pavement to release my ankle from the trap in which I found myself. It was with adrenaline only that I did this; later on, I found out that this vehicle weighed more than I could ever imagine handling. I hoisted my leg above my head, a trick that I had learned from watching too many medical drama TV shows, to prevent myself from fainting from the pain and searched the area around me to find my phone. It was lying face down, the screen shattered, but this detail was worthless. The only thing that I was worried about at this moment was how time seemed to linger as my fingers dialed both my mother and father’s phone numbers. “I - I’ve had a wreck. I need you to come home immediately,” I choked out. Before my mother could ask any further questions, I hung up,

FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

|

25

and I rapidly dialed my father’s number. “Dad. I’ve ha - I’ve had a wreck,” I stammered out to my father. I could hear the horror in his voice as he asked exactly where I was and said that he would be there as soon as possible.

After one trip to the emergency room, tens upon tens of trips to the plastic surgeon in hopes of repairing the gaping hole that the golf cart left in my left ankle, and one skin graft surgery, there is not a day that goes by that I do not think upon this incident. This regular summer day could have ended just as any other day would, but it did not.

Throughout the aftermath of this incident, I learned many things but upon those things one lesson stands stands out in my mind. I will forever be thankful for the little things in life. After being on crutches for the remainder of the summer, I am simply thankful for my legs. After having a sprained wrist, I am thankful for a healthy arm. I never noticed how my life deeply depends on these things, and ever since this unfortunate incident, I will appreciate every little detail that remains in my life.

75

Emily Hall

Second Place Narrative Twelfth Grade Tupelo High School “Inevitable Change”

I was suddenly surrounded with an unbearable feeling of loneliness. It started on a Sunday morning in November. A knock at the door interrupted a movie I was watching. As I opened the door, I saw two men dressed in camouflage. They were friends of my father whom he had been hunting with just that morning. My heart stopped as it fell from my chest. I spoke, but only received answers of tears and broken sentences. Where was my father? Why had they come.

My father had passed away. It was sudden and unexpected. Words cannot describe how I felt in that moment. My body was overcome, and I screamed as I fell to the ground. Why? Why had this happened, and how? Just the night before he held me in his arms and promised everything would be alright, but it wasn’t. My world had turned upside down in a matter of minutes. The next few weeks were nothing but a blur. I had never been more scared in my life. I lost a sense of protection and a feeling of love. Little did I know that my life was about to undergo a drastic change for the worse.

I have never known anyone that affected as many _______________________________________________Continued on page 26

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GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

DAILY JOURNAL

That what You are doing Is simply meant to be They say cancer is a scary thing A scary thing indeed And I just want them to know You will meet their every need Please wrap Your arms around them, Lord And give them strength to rise For You alone are good You are loving And You are wise Your healing hands will comfort them Of that I am so sure And Your mighty spirit will Lead some To one day find the cure Until then, Dear Lord, I can only pray That cancer will be gone One glorious, glorious day I ask that You hold them Hold them very tight And never let them stray From Your glorious light For cancer is but a speck of dust Compared to Your power You stand unafraid Although we cower So in conclusion God, I just want to say I am thankful to You For what You did that day You healed someone dear to me I love her like no other You healed my friend, Lord You healed my mother

TWELFTH GRADE - NARRATIVE 74

Bethany Alexander

First Place - Narrative Twelfth Grade Tupelo High School

“It’s the Little Things”

I knew I should not have taken such a sharp turn as soon as my equilibrium shifted. It’s funny, actually, because when people say that when something bad happens the world suddenly is playing in slow motion, and I never believed them. I quickly learned how right they all were as the vehicle was flipping over - right onto me. A quick life lesson of being cautious in everything I do flashed quickly through my mind.

It was an ordinary summer day, that day. The day would start off just like any other day would. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and I was starting off my day early by babysitting. I parked my car in the morning heat and knocked twice, very quickly, before I walked in without a welcome.

I was greeted by only one of the kids I was babysitting with a warm welcome and high energy. She insisted we immediately jump on the utility terrain vehicle, otherwise known as their “not-so-little” golf cart, and ride throughout the neighborhood before the summer heat became unbearable. Inside I heard a small voice telling me to stay indoors, but I had no reason to argue - the day would soon become intolerably hot, so we might as well enjoy the fresh air while we could.

As we walked outside to climb on the vehicle, she immediately called dibs to drive first. Even though I was wary about letting a ten year old drive me, I agreed we were only taking loops around a neighborhood. What harm could she make on a golf cart? We rode every inch of pavement in our neighborhood countless times, and she soon gave me the driver’s seat. As I accelerated through the streets we knew best, I had a sudden urge to turn around to head back to the entrance of our neighborhood. It was that moment, that instant, that I would do anything to give back. I spent hours upon hours the rest of that summer thinking, “If only I wouldn’t have thought those thoughts. If only I would have continued to go further into the streets and wouldn’t have taken that sharp turn.” If only.

The next few moments were a blur. I didn’t pass out or faint, but a rush of adrenaline passed through my body so fiercely that recalling the next few moments are almost impossible. I know that I screamed. What words I screamed, I will never know. In slow motion, my whole world was turning. The next thing I knew, the golf cart was flipped over and the weight of the vehicle was resting on my left ankle. I was trapped, unable to move my lower limbs, but that was momentarily meaningless. I had to check on the child. She stood up from the accident with barely a scratch, and for that, I will always be eternally thankful. As the adrenaline quickly pumped through me, I slowly inched the vehicle off the pavement to release my ankle from the trap in which I found myself. It was with adrenaline only that I did this; later on, I found out that this vehicle weighed more than I could ever imagine handling. I hoisted my leg above my head, a trick that I had learned from watching too many medical drama TV shows, to prevent myself from fainting from the pain and searched the area around me to find my phone. It was lying face down, the screen shattered, but this detail was worthless. The only thing that I was worried about at this moment was how time seemed to linger as my fingers dialed both my mother and father’s phone numbers. “I - I’ve had a wreck. I need you to come home immediately,” I choked out. Before my mother could ask any further questions, I hung up,

FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

|

25

and I rapidly dialed my father’s number. “Dad. I’ve ha - I’ve had a wreck,” I stammered out to my father. I could hear the horror in his voice as he asked exactly where I was and said that he would be there as soon as possible.

After one trip to the emergency room, tens upon tens of trips to the plastic surgeon in hopes of repairing the gaping hole that the golf cart left in my left ankle, and one skin graft surgery, there is not a day that goes by that I do not think upon this incident. This regular summer day could have ended just as any other day would, but it did not.

Throughout the aftermath of this incident, I learned many things but upon those things one lesson stands stands out in my mind. I will forever be thankful for the little things in life. After being on crutches for the remainder of the summer, I am simply thankful for my legs. After having a sprained wrist, I am thankful for a healthy arm. I never noticed how my life deeply depends on these things, and ever since this unfortunate incident, I will appreciate every little detail that remains in my life.

75

Emily Hall

Second Place Narrative Twelfth Grade Tupelo High School “Inevitable Change”

I was suddenly surrounded with an unbearable feeling of loneliness. It started on a Sunday morning in November. A knock at the door interrupted a movie I was watching. As I opened the door, I saw two men dressed in camouflage. They were friends of my father whom he had been hunting with just that morning. My heart stopped as it fell from my chest. I spoke, but only received answers of tears and broken sentences. Where was my father? Why had they come.

My father had passed away. It was sudden and unexpected. Words cannot describe how I felt in that moment. My body was overcome, and I screamed as I fell to the ground. Why? Why had this happened, and how? Just the night before he held me in his arms and promised everything would be alright, but it wasn’t. My world had turned upside down in a matter of minutes. The next few weeks were nothing but a blur. I had never been more scared in my life. I lost a sense of protection and a feeling of love. Little did I know that my life was about to undergo a drastic change for the worse.

I have never known anyone that affected as many _______________________________________________Continued on page 26

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GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

DAILY JOURNAL

That what You are doing Is simply meant to be They say cancer is a scary thing A scary thing indeed And I just want them to know You will meet their every need Please wrap Your arms around them, Lord And give them strength to rise For You alone are good You are loving And You are wise Your healing hands will comfort them Of that I am so sure And Your mighty spirit will Lead some To one day find the cure Until then, Dear Lord, I can only pray That cancer will be gone One glorious, glorious day I ask that You hold them Hold them very tight And never let them stray From Your glorious light For cancer is but a speck of dust Compared to Your power You stand unafraid Although we cower So in conclusion God, I just want to say I am thankful to You For what You did that day You healed someone dear to me I love her like no other You healed my friend, Lord You healed my mother

TWELFTH GRADE - NARRATIVE 74

Bethany Alexander

First Place - Narrative Twelfth Grade Tupelo High School

“It’s the Little Things”

I knew I should not have taken such a sharp turn as soon as my equilibrium shifted. It’s funny, actually, because when people say that when something bad happens the world suddenly is playing in slow motion, and I never believed them. I quickly learned how right they all were as the vehicle was flipping over - right onto me. A quick life lesson of being cautious in everything I do flashed quickly through my mind.

It was an ordinary summer day, that day. The day would start off just like any other day would. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and I was starting off my day early by babysitting. I parked my car in the morning heat and knocked twice, very quickly, before I walked in without a welcome.

I was greeted by only one of the kids I was babysitting with a warm welcome and high energy. She insisted we immediately jump on the utility terrain vehicle, otherwise known as their “not-so-little” golf cart, and ride throughout the neighborhood before the summer heat became unbearable. Inside I heard a small voice telling me to stay indoors, but I had no reason to argue - the day would soon become intolerably hot, so we might as well enjoy the fresh air while we could.

As we walked outside to climb on the vehicle, she immediately called dibs to drive first. Even though I was wary about letting a ten year old drive me, I agreed we were only taking loops around a neighborhood. What harm could she make on a golf cart? We rode every inch of pavement in our neighborhood countless times, and she soon gave me the driver’s seat. As I accelerated through the streets we knew best, I had a sudden urge to turn around to head back to the entrance of our neighborhood. It was that moment, that instant, that I would do anything to give back. I spent hours upon hours the rest of that summer thinking, “If only I wouldn’t have thought those thoughts. If only I would have continued to go further into the streets and wouldn’t have taken that sharp turn.” If only.

The next few moments were a blur. I didn’t pass out or faint, but a rush of adrenaline passed through my body so fiercely that recalling the next few moments are almost impossible. I know that I screamed. What words I screamed, I will never know. In slow motion, my whole world was turning. The next thing I knew, the golf cart was flipped over and the weight of the vehicle was resting on my left ankle. I was trapped, unable to move my lower limbs, but that was momentarily meaningless. I had to check on the child. She stood up from the accident with barely a scratch, and for that, I will always be eternally thankful. As the adrenaline quickly pumped through me, I slowly inched the vehicle off the pavement to release my ankle from the trap in which I found myself. It was with adrenaline only that I did this; later on, I found out that this vehicle weighed more than I could ever imagine handling. I hoisted my leg above my head, a trick that I had learned from watching too many medical drama TV shows, to prevent myself from fainting from the pain and searched the area around me to find my phone. It was lying face down, the screen shattered, but this detail was worthless. The only thing that I was worried about at this moment was how time seemed to linger as my fingers dialed both my mother and father’s phone numbers. “I - I’ve had a wreck. I need you to come home immediately,” I choked out. Before my mother could ask any further questions, I hung up,

FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

|

25

and I rapidly dialed my father’s number. “Dad. I’ve ha - I’ve had a wreck,” I stammered out to my father. I could hear the horror in his voice as he asked exactly where I was and said that he would be there as soon as possible.

After one trip to the emergency room, tens upon tens of trips to the plastic surgeon in hopes of repairing the gaping hole that the golf cart left in my left ankle, and one skin graft surgery, there is not a day that goes by that I do not think upon this incident. This regular summer day could have ended just as any other day would, but it did not.

Throughout the aftermath of this incident, I learned many things but upon those things one lesson stands stands out in my mind. I will forever be thankful for the little things in life. After being on crutches for the remainder of the summer, I am simply thankful for my legs. After having a sprained wrist, I am thankful for a healthy arm. I never noticed how my life deeply depends on these things, and ever since this unfortunate incident, I will appreciate every little detail that remains in my life.

75

Emily Hall

Second Place Narrative Twelfth Grade Tupelo High School “Inevitable Change”

I was suddenly surrounded with an unbearable feeling of loneliness. It started on a Sunday morning in November. A knock at the door interrupted a movie I was watching. As I opened the door, I saw two men dressed in camouflage. They were friends of my father whom he had been hunting with just that morning. My heart stopped as it fell from my chest. I spoke, but only received answers of tears and broken sentences. Where was my father? Why had they come.

My father had passed away. It was sudden and unexpected. Words cannot describe how I felt in that moment. My body was overcome, and I screamed as I fell to the ground. Why? Why had this happened, and how? Just the night before he held me in his arms and promised everything would be alright, but it wasn’t. My world had turned upside down in a matter of minutes. The next few weeks were nothing but a blur. I had never been more scared in my life. I lost a sense of protection and a feeling of love. Little did I know that my life was about to undergo a drastic change for the worse.

I have never known anyone that affected as many _______________________________________________Continued on page 26

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GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

DAILY JOURNAL

| FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

lives as my father. The visitation lasted hours, but I did not know everyone that came through. People came from miles and miles with stories of how he had helped a stranger. Everyone that came through had something positive to say about my father. I learned a lot about my dad that day. I guess he paid it forward, in a way. He changed so many people’s lives and then, through their stories, they changed mine.

The year following his death was filled with confusion. My mother’s time was consumed with plans and paperwork. She investigated his death, trying to find the cause. She looked through pictures and clothes, talked to his friends and doctors, and visited the place of his death. There were assumptions of cardiac arrest, maybe even a heart attack. To this day no one really knows the true cause. I actually think that through the years, all of the unanswered questions have made it more difficult for me to cope. It makes me feel like I could have saved him, like there was something that I could have done.

Time passed, and it sank in that I would have to live the rest of my life without seeing my father. I realized there would not be any more late nights of eating ice cream and watching “Andy Griffith” on TV. There would be no more trips to the arcade to spend hours and hours trying to win a prize. There would be no more fishing trips or four-wheeler rides. I would no longer be able to fall asleep to the sound of him watching TV in the living room or him telling me stories of his childhood. All of these things made up my childhood, and I couldn’t help but feel like my life as I knew it was over.

Time passed, and I grew accustomed to my different life, but I have to say that it is still difficult to accept the fact that I am living without him. This particular change has and will continue to impact my life more than anything I have ever gone through. I constantly long for him and wonder how different my life would be today if he were still here with me. It has now been six long years since my father passed away. Growing up without a father has been challenging, but I have no doubt that I have grown stronger through this unfortunate experience.

Death is inevitable. I truly believe that there is a reason for everything, but I cannot help but wish that some things would have gone differently. I find peace in the fact that we never left anything unspoken. I will always know how much my dad truly loved me. I have no regrets, and I am very thankful that my father and I had a great relationship. Although he is gone, the memory of him continues to have a positive impact in my life.

GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST 76

DAILY JOURNAL

on my goggles. Everything was going fine, and then, right when I began to pull the strap around Erin Walker my head, I lost my balance, falling down to the concrete with a ‘SMACK.’ Dillard Screams began and could be heard from miles Third Place away as I lay face down on the concrete crying my Narrative eyes out. I had no idea what had just happened besides the fact that I knew my head was in severe Twelfth Grade pain. My dad was lying down in a chair taking a Tupelo High School nap right where I was lying and did not even notice me. As one mother saw me lying face down on the concrete, all the adults came rushing over to me, and my mom was crying her eyes out. Blood was pouring out of the open wound above my right eye, “Never Again” and everyone was in a panic attack. I lay there Summer 2003 had just begun. School was out for shaking, oblivious to all the adults around me. At the hottest time of the year, and there was only one that moment, they knew I needed to be rushed to thing to do. The scorching sun was out bright as the emergency room at the local hospital. ever, and neighborhood friends began to gather in My dad and mom ran in our house to get some my family’s backyard as they did every summer clothes on over their swimwear and grabbed the day. The pool water was just the right temperature. keys to the car. Towels had been spread out across Pool toys were all over waiting for all the children to the back of my dad’s car, and I was loaded into the jump in and begin to play. Moms of my friends back by the other adults. My mom and dad came and my brother’s friends came in the backyard one out of the house and climbed into the car. The by one with different snacks and drinks. My dad longest ride of my life began to the hospital as my had the grill heating up, ready to put the hamburg- head was elevated in my mother’s lap. Once we ers and hot dogs on the flames. The other children arrived at the hospital and got out of the car, I was of the neighborhood, along with myself, were all sent into a room. Different tests were run on my dressed in our swimsuits, waiting to dive in the head and other parts of my body to be sure nothing water and splash around. The fun day was just serious was wrong. Thankfully, stitches were the beginning, and no one knew that a tragic event only thing needed to pull the skin above my eye would soon end the day. back together. From that moment on, I learned to As all the friends gathered around the pool, it was never attempt placing my goggles on my head just another summer day. All the kids splashed while not standing on stable ground. around, and the parents socialized. “Marco...Polo” were the common words to be heard while all the children were in the pool. Another popular “game” being played was all the different contests. Diving, biggest splash, smallest splash, best cannon ball, you name it and we competed to see who could do the best. Lunch time came, and everyone stuffed their faces with the delicious food on the table and quenched their thirst with the pink lemonade my mom always made. After all the children ate, the dreaded words we hated to hear came out of our parents’ mouths. “Everyone sit and wait thirty minutes before getting back in.” As the wait began, my dad went and turned on our water slide. The sparkling water came running down, splashing into the pool. All the children began talking about all the different ways to slide down and became anxiously excited to climb up the ladder and take a slide.

The thirty minute interval ended, and all the kids rushed back in the cool water to rid their bodies of the salty sweat running down their faces. A line began to form at the bottom of the water slide ladder, and I decided to jump in line. Children were sliding down forwards, backwards, and all the other possible ways they could picture. Climbing up with my goggles in my hand, I should have known right then it was a terrible mistake. As I made my way to one of the top steps, I paused in preparation to put

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| FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

lives as my father. The visitation lasted hours, but I did not know everyone that came through. People came from miles and miles with stories of how he had helped a stranger. Everyone that came through had something positive to say about my father. I learned a lot about my dad that day. I guess he paid it forward, in a way. He changed so many people’s lives and then, through their stories, they changed mine.

The year following his death was filled with confusion. My mother’s time was consumed with plans and paperwork. She investigated his death, trying to find the cause. She looked through pictures and clothes, talked to his friends and doctors, and visited the place of his death. There were assumptions of cardiac arrest, maybe even a heart attack. To this day no one really knows the true cause. I actually think that through the years, all of the unanswered questions have made it more difficult for me to cope. It makes me feel like I could have saved him, like there was something that I could have done.

Time passed, and it sank in that I would have to live the rest of my life without seeing my father. I realized there would not be any more late nights of eating ice cream and watching “Andy Griffith” on TV. There would be no more trips to the arcade to spend hours and hours trying to win a prize. There would be no more fishing trips or four-wheeler rides. I would no longer be able to fall asleep to the sound of him watching TV in the living room or him telling me stories of his childhood. All of these things made up my childhood, and I couldn’t help but feel like my life as I knew it was over.

Time passed, and I grew accustomed to my different life, but I have to say that it is still difficult to accept the fact that I am living without him. This particular change has and will continue to impact my life more than anything I have ever gone through. I constantly long for him and wonder how different my life would be today if he were still here with me. It has now been six long years since my father passed away. Growing up without a father has been challenging, but I have no doubt that I have grown stronger through this unfortunate experience.

Death is inevitable. I truly believe that there is a reason for everything, but I cannot help but wish that some things would have gone differently. I find peace in the fact that we never left anything unspoken. I will always know how much my dad truly loved me. I have no regrets, and I am very thankful that my father and I had a great relationship. Although he is gone, the memory of him continues to have a positive impact in my life.

GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST 76

DAILY JOURNAL

on my goggles. Everything was going fine, and then, right when I began to pull the strap around Erin Walker my head, I lost my balance, falling down to the concrete with a ‘SMACK.’ Dillard Screams began and could be heard from miles Third Place away as I lay face down on the concrete crying my Narrative eyes out. I had no idea what had just happened besides the fact that I knew my head was in severe Twelfth Grade pain. My dad was lying down in a chair taking a Tupelo High School nap right where I was lying and did not even notice me. As one mother saw me lying face down on the concrete, all the adults came rushing over to me, and my mom was crying her eyes out. Blood was pouring out of the open wound above my right eye, “Never Again” and everyone was in a panic attack. I lay there Summer 2003 had just begun. School was out for shaking, oblivious to all the adults around me. At the hottest time of the year, and there was only one that moment, they knew I needed to be rushed to thing to do. The scorching sun was out bright as the emergency room at the local hospital. ever, and neighborhood friends began to gather in My dad and mom ran in our house to get some my family’s backyard as they did every summer clothes on over their swimwear and grabbed the day. The pool water was just the right temperature. keys to the car. Towels had been spread out across Pool toys were all over waiting for all the children to the back of my dad’s car, and I was loaded into the jump in and begin to play. Moms of my friends back by the other adults. My mom and dad came and my brother’s friends came in the backyard one out of the house and climbed into the car. The by one with different snacks and drinks. My dad longest ride of my life began to the hospital as my had the grill heating up, ready to put the hamburg- head was elevated in my mother’s lap. Once we ers and hot dogs on the flames. The other children arrived at the hospital and got out of the car, I was of the neighborhood, along with myself, were all sent into a room. Different tests were run on my dressed in our swimsuits, waiting to dive in the head and other parts of my body to be sure nothing water and splash around. The fun day was just serious was wrong. Thankfully, stitches were the beginning, and no one knew that a tragic event only thing needed to pull the skin above my eye would soon end the day. back together. From that moment on, I learned to As all the friends gathered around the pool, it was never attempt placing my goggles on my head just another summer day. All the kids splashed while not standing on stable ground. around, and the parents socialized. “Marco...Polo” were the common words to be heard while all the children were in the pool. Another popular “game” being played was all the different contests. Diving, biggest splash, smallest splash, best cannon ball, you name it and we competed to see who could do the best. Lunch time came, and everyone stuffed their faces with the delicious food on the table and quenched their thirst with the pink lemonade my mom always made. After all the children ate, the dreaded words we hated to hear came out of our parents’ mouths. “Everyone sit and wait thirty minutes before getting back in.” As the wait began, my dad went and turned on our water slide. The sparkling water came running down, splashing into the pool. All the children began talking about all the different ways to slide down and became anxiously excited to climb up the ladder and take a slide.

The thirty minute interval ended, and all the kids rushed back in the cool water to rid their bodies of the salty sweat running down their faces. A line began to form at the bottom of the water slide ladder, and I decided to jump in line. Children were sliding down forwards, backwards, and all the other possible ways they could picture. Climbing up with my goggles in my hand, I should have known right then it was a terrible mistake. As I made my way to one of the top steps, I paused in preparation to put

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26

| FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

lives as my father. The visitation lasted hours, but I did not know everyone that came through. People came from miles and miles with stories of how he had helped a stranger. Everyone that came through had something positive to say about my father. I learned a lot about my dad that day. I guess he paid it forward, in a way. He changed so many people’s lives and then, through their stories, they changed mine.

The year following his death was filled with confusion. My mother’s time was consumed with plans and paperwork. She investigated his death, trying to find the cause. She looked through pictures and clothes, talked to his friends and doctors, and visited the place of his death. There were assumptions of cardiac arrest, maybe even a heart attack. To this day no one really knows the true cause. I actually think that through the years, all of the unanswered questions have made it more difficult for me to cope. It makes me feel like I could have saved him, like there was something that I could have done.

Time passed, and it sank in that I would have to live the rest of my life without seeing my father. I realized there would not be any more late nights of eating ice cream and watching “Andy Griffith” on TV. There would be no more trips to the arcade to spend hours and hours trying to win a prize. There would be no more fishing trips or four-wheeler rides. I would no longer be able to fall asleep to the sound of him watching TV in the living room or him telling me stories of his childhood. All of these things made up my childhood, and I couldn’t help but feel like my life as I knew it was over.

Time passed, and I grew accustomed to my different life, but I have to say that it is still difficult to accept the fact that I am living without him. This particular change has and will continue to impact my life more than anything I have ever gone through. I constantly long for him and wonder how different my life would be today if he were still here with me. It has now been six long years since my father passed away. Growing up without a father has been challenging, but I have no doubt that I have grown stronger through this unfortunate experience.

Death is inevitable. I truly believe that there is a reason for everything, but I cannot help but wish that some things would have gone differently. I find peace in the fact that we never left anything unspoken. I will always know how much my dad truly loved me. I have no regrets, and I am very thankful that my father and I had a great relationship. Although he is gone, the memory of him continues to have a positive impact in my life.

GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST 76

DAILY JOURNAL

on my goggles. Everything was going fine, and then, right when I began to pull the strap around Erin Walker my head, I lost my balance, falling down to the concrete with a ‘SMACK.’ Dillard Screams began and could be heard from miles Third Place away as I lay face down on the concrete crying my Narrative eyes out. I had no idea what had just happened besides the fact that I knew my head was in severe Twelfth Grade pain. My dad was lying down in a chair taking a Tupelo High School nap right where I was lying and did not even notice me. As one mother saw me lying face down on the concrete, all the adults came rushing over to me, and my mom was crying her eyes out. Blood was pouring out of the open wound above my right eye, “Never Again” and everyone was in a panic attack. I lay there Summer 2003 had just begun. School was out for shaking, oblivious to all the adults around me. At the hottest time of the year, and there was only one that moment, they knew I needed to be rushed to thing to do. The scorching sun was out bright as the emergency room at the local hospital. ever, and neighborhood friends began to gather in My dad and mom ran in our house to get some my family’s backyard as they did every summer clothes on over their swimwear and grabbed the day. The pool water was just the right temperature. keys to the car. Towels had been spread out across Pool toys were all over waiting for all the children to the back of my dad’s car, and I was loaded into the jump in and begin to play. Moms of my friends back by the other adults. My mom and dad came and my brother’s friends came in the backyard one out of the house and climbed into the car. The by one with different snacks and drinks. My dad longest ride of my life began to the hospital as my had the grill heating up, ready to put the hamburg- head was elevated in my mother’s lap. Once we ers and hot dogs on the flames. The other children arrived at the hospital and got out of the car, I was of the neighborhood, along with myself, were all sent into a room. Different tests were run on my dressed in our swimsuits, waiting to dive in the head and other parts of my body to be sure nothing water and splash around. The fun day was just serious was wrong. Thankfully, stitches were the beginning, and no one knew that a tragic event only thing needed to pull the skin above my eye would soon end the day. back together. From that moment on, I learned to As all the friends gathered around the pool, it was never attempt placing my goggles on my head just another summer day. All the kids splashed while not standing on stable ground. around, and the parents socialized. “Marco...Polo” were the common words to be heard while all the children were in the pool. Another popular “game” being played was all the different contests. Diving, biggest splash, smallest splash, best cannon ball, you name it and we competed to see who could do the best. Lunch time came, and everyone stuffed their faces with the delicious food on the table and quenched their thirst with the pink lemonade my mom always made. After all the children ate, the dreaded words we hated to hear came out of our parents’ mouths. “Everyone sit and wait thirty minutes before getting back in.” As the wait began, my dad went and turned on our water slide. The sparkling water came running down, splashing into the pool. All the children began talking about all the different ways to slide down and became anxiously excited to climb up the ladder and take a slide.

The thirty minute interval ended, and all the kids rushed back in the cool water to rid their bodies of the salty sweat running down their faces. A line began to form at the bottom of the water slide ladder, and I decided to jump in line. Children were sliding down forwards, backwards, and all the other possible ways they could picture. Climbing up with my goggles in my hand, I should have known right then it was a terrible mistake. As I made my way to one of the top steps, I paused in preparation to put

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26

GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

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27

2013 NIE Sponsors Farmers & Merchants Bank David and Shawn Brevard Charles W. Montgomery, M.D. Dr. and Mrs. Jimmy Hamilton First National Bank cturing Company Abby Farm Supply and Abby Manufa Metrocast BNA Bank llector and Assessor Betty Hobson, Benton County Tax Co Chickasaw NIE Sponsors Itawamba NIE Sponsors

ONE

TEAM

INTEGRITY

RESULTS

To All GumTree Winners!

PROTECTION

EMPLOYER OF CHOICE PRIDE

DELIVER SERVICE EXCELLENCE

COOL

DRIVENEMPLOYEE FOCUSED Learn more or apply for a NEW career at www.newcorp.com/careers

Document: A027DJS051013.eps;Page: 1;Format:(254.00 x 254.00 mm);Plate: Composite;Date: May 08, 2013 16:20:35;JPC 72 DPI

DAILY JOURNAL

GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

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27

2013 NIE Sponsors Farmers & Merchants Bank David and Shawn Brevard Charles W. Montgomery, M.D. Dr. and Mrs. Jimmy Hamilton First National Bank cturing Company Abby Farm Supply and Abby Manufa Metrocast BNA Bank llector and Assessor Betty Hobson, Benton County Tax Co Chickasaw NIE Sponsors Itawamba NIE Sponsors

ONE

TEAM

INTEGRITY

RESULTS

To All GumTree Winners!

PROTECTION

EMPLOYER OF CHOICE PRIDE

DELIVER SERVICE EXCELLENCE

COOL

DRIVENEMPLOYEE FOCUSED Learn more or apply for a NEW career at www.newcorp.com/careers

Document: A027DJS051013.eps;Page: 1;Format:(254.00 x 254.00 mm);Plate: Composite;Date: May 08, 2013 16:20:35;JPC 72 DPI

DAILY JOURNAL

GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

|

27

2013 NIE Sponsors Farmers & Merchants Bank David and Shawn Brevard Charles W. Montgomery, M.D. Dr. and Mrs. Jimmy Hamilton First National Bank cturing Company Abby Farm Supply and Abby Manufa Metrocast BNA Bank llector and Assessor Betty Hobson, Benton County Tax Co Chickasaw NIE Sponsors Itawamba NIE Sponsors

ONE

TEAM

INTEGRITY

RESULTS

To All GumTree Winners!

PROTECTION

EMPLOYER OF CHOICE PRIDE

DELIVER SERVICE EXCELLENCE

COOL

DRIVENEMPLOYEE FOCUSED Learn more or apply for a NEW career at www.newcorp.com/careers

Document: A027DJS051013.eps;Page: 1;Format:(254.00 x 254.00 mm);Plate: Composite;Date: May 08, 2013 16:20:35;JPC 72 DPI

DAILY JOURNAL

28 | FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

Document: A028DJS051013.eps;Page: 1;Format:(254.00 x 254.00 mm);Plate: Composite;Date: May 08, 2013 16:20:49;JPC 72 DPI

DAILY JOURNAL

28 | FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

Document: A028DJS051013.eps;Page: 1;Format:(254.00 x 254.00 mm);Plate: Composite;Date: May 08, 2013 16:20:49;JPC 72 DPI

DAILY JOURNAL

28 | FRIDAY, MAY 10, 2013

GUMTREE WRITING CONTEST

Document: A028DJS051013.eps;Page: 1;Format:(254.00 x 254.00 mm);Plate: Composite;Date: May 08, 2013 16:20:49;JPC 72 DPI

DAILY JOURNAL