Gum Tree Writing 20110505 by Journal Inc

MAY 7-8, 2011

Sponsored by

Robert Gaines State Farm Insurance

A Newspaper & Education supplement to the

2011 Youth Celebration of Writing Contest Winners from grades K-12

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TUPELO, MISSISSIPPI THE 40TH CELEBRATION OF THE ARTS

2011 YOUTH CELEBRATION OF WRITING CONTEST

NORTHEAST MISSISSIPPI DAILY JOURNAL

Weather and Writing by Amy Wyatt

I never thought I would see so much snow in Mississippi! The thirteen and a half inches of snow that fell broke a record set in the winter of 1935-36. Some people loved the snow. Some hated it. Most were amazed by it. Whatever your sentiment about the snow, most people will agree it will be a long time before we experience anything like it again. “What does the weather have to do with writing?” you may ask. It may be a long stretch, but I think all that snow had a positive effect on our students’ writing. It’s not that I’m imagining that while billowy drifts of snow covered the ground, children and youth were snuggled inside their homes, pencils in hand, fervently writing narratives, essays, and poems. It’s not that I believe students decided to do their English homework when they discovered school had been cancelled. Rather, the snow gave students some experiences they do not often have. As you read this year’s entries, you’ll find obvious hints of these days spent at home in stories about children’s sur-

prise at waking to find the earth covered with a glistening blanket of snow, but also in tales about going on a first hunt or days spent with a grandparent. Sholem Asch, a writer, once said, “Writing comes more easily if you have something to say.” I can’t help but wonder if some of these events happened during our days away from school, possibly giving students something more to say. I also noted an increase in fictional pieces among this year’s winning entries. Finding themselves a little stir crazy when the novelty of the snow began to wear off, perhaps students spent more time reading. Reading may have inspired some of our young authors to try writing themselves. Even if students did not spend time reading, I’m sure they had more time to daydream or watch television. Maybe this leisure time was just what some writers needed to develop story plots and themes for poems. If you ask any young child what materials you need to write a story, he will probably say a pencil, a piece of paper, and your imagina-

Who Will Be Our Next John Grisham? Come by Reed’s Gum Tree Bookstore to see the winning entries of the GumTree Writing Contest. Congratulations to our young writers! Reed’s Gum Tree Bookstore, Historic Downtown Tupelo • 842-6453 • www.reedsms.com

Where Writers and Readers Meet in Tupelo

tion. Is it possible the record amount of snow helped our students practice using their imaginations? I’m not really sure if winter weather can really change the results of a writing contest held in the spring. However, I am very sure that you will enjoy reading this year’s winning narratives, essays, and poems. The process of choosing winning entries and publishing them was quite lengthy. 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 hundreds of 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, sec-

ond, and third place for each category was chosen. In some cases, a tie was granted. When the day was over, eighty-two 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. A major step in the publishing process was typing each entry. Terry Leigh Clayton and Candi Quartaro deserve much praise for all the work they did typing winning pieces for several grade levels. A number of the high school students helped by emailing their entries to me, which saved precious time. Each entry had to be 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.

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Kindergarten – Poetry 2

Isaiah Luciano

Church Street Elementary School

I have a veywe fun Frend Hey olso is my twin. We like to play with sokr Bolls. We Like to Woch r Logo Bloks Foll. Elijah is My Best frend. Im Luke to have a twin.

Third Place - Poetry Kindergarten Joyner Elementary School

Joyner Elementary School

“My Bruther” I have a very fun friend. He also is my twin. We like to play with soccer balls. We like to watch our Lego blocks fall. Elijah is my best friend. I’m lucky to have a twin.

Lauren Baker

Second Place Poetry Kindergarten

First Place - Poetry Kindergarten

“My twin my fend”

Shelby Tigner

My Bruther is so stong I Love my Bruther. He Loves me all Day long. He tucxs me in my cuer He is so fabyulus!

“My Brother” My brother is so strong. I love my brother. He loves me all day long. He tucks me in my cover. He is so fabulous!

“Culers”

“Colors” I can spell colors. I can spel culers. An orange is orange. A orange is orange. A plum is purple. A plum is purple. Blueberries are blue. Blueberees are blue. Yogurt can be pink. Yogert can be pink. Kiwis can be green. Keewe can be green. Clouds are white. Clowds are white. Lemons are yellow. Limins are yellow. A A bunch uv culers can be bunch of colors can be a rainbow. a ranbow.

Kindergarten – Narrative/Essay 4

First Place Narrative/Essay Kindergarten

Second Place Narrative/Essay Kindergarten

Abigail Lancaster

Joyner Elementary School

“Space Advinchers” “The earth is a ball,” I said. Some day I will go to spase. Win I groe up I will go to spase. I love spase. It is cool. I want to see the rings on Sadern. I want to see the diferit planits. I am going to see the moon and stars. I think I will like it! “The earth is a ball,” I said. Someday I will go to space. When I grow up I will go to space. I love space. It is cool. I want to see the rings on Saturn. I want to see the different planets. I am going to see the moon and stars. I think I will like it!

Annlee Grayson

ParkwayElementary School Once upon a time there was a princess. Her name was Annalyse. Here’s where the story begins. In the meadow the princess was walking and the unicorn was walking. They met and became best friends. The princess brought the unicorn into her room. Her mom and dad got mad. They were making stuff fly. They made a mess. The Queen and King got mad at the princess. But she was okay with that. The King built a house for the unicorn. But the unicorn could not come in the castle any more. The End.

“The Princess and the Unicorn” Ones upon a time there was a princess. Her name was Annalyse. Here’s ware the story begin’s. In the metowe the princess was wocking and the unuican was wacking. They met and became best frands. The princess brot the unuican into her room. Her mom and dad got mad. Thay waer makeing susf fliy. Thay made a mess. The Qeen and King got mad at the princess. But she was ok with that. The King bilt a house for the unucan. But the unucan could not come in the casel iney more. The End

Annlee, you are such a blessing to us! We praise God for the gifts & talents He has given you. Let His glory shine in you always! Love, Daddy, Mama & Deuce “Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men.” Colossians 3:23

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2011 YOUTH CELEBRATION OF WRITING CONTEST

NORTHEAST MISSISSIPPI DAILY JOURNAL

Kindergarten – Narrative/Essay 6

Graci Laird

Third Place Narrative/Essay Kindergarten

“Basketball or Ballet” I like to play basktbol alot with my coach. Coach luvs basktbol. He techs it. He techs me how to drebl, bans pas, chest pas and shoot. He shir nos a lot. I wot to play baktbol but I stil wot to balay. Im haven a hord tim theken ubut it. We shir like to shoot hoops.

I like to basketball a lot with my coach. Coach loves basketball. He teaches it. He teaches me how to dribble, bounce pass, chest pass, and shoot. He sure knows a lot. I want to play basketball, but I still want to do ballet. I’m having a hard time thinking about it. We sure like to shoot hoops.

Joyner Elementary School

First Grade – Poetry 8

Mamie McGraw

Church Street Elementary School

“The Crab”

The cheetah is reading a book. He was off the hook. The cheetah was in the zoo, and he was playing on a kazoo. The cheetah was eating rice. The cheetah was very nice.

We found a hermit crab at the beach. He ate an orange peach. We named him Flip Flop. He likes to dance to hip-hop.

We are so proud of our little poet! We love you! Mama, Daddy, Lilla and Katie Bell

First Grade – Narrative/Essay

First Place Narrative/Essay First Grade

Church Street Elementary School

“My First Hunt” It was a cold day. At about 5:00 I saw something. It happened! My heart skipped a beat as four deer walked out of the bushes. I was so nervous that my head popped

Third Place - Poetry First Grade Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

Church Street Elementary School

“Cheetah, Cheetah”

William Deas

Mick Austin

Second Place Poetry First Grade

First Place - Poetry First Grade

Lucy Johnston

up. As they walked into the field my eyes were wide open. I knew the deer heard us because their heads jerked up, and I was scared they were going to run. My daddy put my gun up, and I aimed and fired. I said, “Get on the ground, doe!” She ran about sixty yards and fell. I was tracking the deer, and I saw some blood on some prickly bushes. I said, “Daddy, this is blood.” He didn’t think it was but I rubbed it on my finger, and it was. My daddy said, “You’re a good tracker.” Then we saw a white tail, and we pulled her out. It was a big deer. It weighed about one hundred and twenty pounds. It was my birthday. I was born at 6:00, and I killed the deer at 5:45, so I was still six years old. My dad hugged me. He was so glad he had brought me on this hunt.

“All Different Days” Fall is cold. Summer is hot. Some days are rainy. Some days are not. Some days are fun. Some days are sad. Some days I’m happy. Most days I’m glad. Winter is snowy. Spring has lots of wind. In all kinds of weather, I play with my friends.

Congratulations, Mick! We are very proud of you!

A perfect story and a perfect afternoon. Congratulations, William! We love you, Dad, Mom and Mason

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2011 YOUTH CELEBRATION OF WRITING CONTEST

PAGE 4E ■ THURSDAY, MAY 5, 2011

2011 YOUTH CELEBRATION OF WRITING CONTEST

First Grade – Narrative/Essay 11

Second Grade – Poetry

Braden Witcher

Curt Silver

Second Place Narrative/Essay First Grade

SaNiyah Shumpert

ThirdPlace Narrative/Essay First Grade

Church Street Elementary School

THURSDAY, MAY 5, 2011 ■ PAGE 5E

First Place - Poetry Second Grade Verona Elementary School

Shannon Primary School

“My Fifth Birthday”

“The Pancakes”

“Lily”

One day it was my birthday. I was five. I had to have it at my house. Nobody showed up so I started to cry because nobody showed up. And we had a lot of candy so me and my mother had to eat all of the candy. The next day I found invitations. I forgot to pass them out. I asked my mom if I could have another birthday, and this time I would not forget to pass out the invitations. I got to pass out the invitations, and the next day it was my birthday again. This time they came. Yay!!!

This morning before school I helped my grandmother make pancakes. First, Grandmother got the batter out of the box and added water and mixed it up. I poured the batter in a pan. The pancakes started to have bubbles, and I flipped them. We put butter on them and put the pancakes on a plate. We put the plate in the middle of the table and passed them out to my family. WOW, they loved those pancakes!

My kitten Lily, is so soft and cuddly and sweet. Sometimes, I dress her up and invite her to my tea party.

Braden, we are so proud of you. Great job! Love, Dad and Kerry

Congratulation, Curt! Love, Mama, Daddy, Claire & all your fans!

Madison McNary

Second Place Poetry Second Grade

Thomas Street Elementary School

“My Birthday” Spring Break is here, That means my birthday is near. What a perfect time, To give you my rhyme. This year my birthday will be really great, Because my Aunt and Uncle are coming to celebrate. The party is planned, please save the date. Come party with me when I turn 8! Family, friends, presents, and cake, Balloons and decorations help to make This girl’s birthday party so special and great!

We are so proud of you, Maddie! Keep on writing and never stop dreaming. We love you! Love, Mom and Dad

Haley Walker

Third Place - Poetry Second Grade Joyner Elementary School

“Inside Looking Out-An Earthquake” I see glass shaking. I see trees swinging. I see the earth shaking. I see people under tables. I see houses crashing. I see kids wondering what’s going on. I see kids crying. I see parent’s screaming, “Where is my child?” I see teachers looking for kids. Inside looking out, The earthquake is approaching fast.

When I sleep late, she wakes up before me. Lily jumps on me and licks my face. She shows me fantastic tricks. Lily irritates me when she says “meow” too loud. She often is as shaky as a Chihuahua. Most of the time, Lily is terrified of other kittens, But, sometimes, she is brave. When I put water and food in her bowl, Lily is often impatient. I love to have a pet like Lily, We love to talk and walk and play. Lily and I are great friends.

Second Grade – Narrative/Essay 16

Daniel Parmer

First Place Narrative/Essay Second Grade

Saltillo Primary School

“Vocabulary Nonsense” Today the weather changed. The thunder rumbled and a bolt of lightening crept over the horizon. It was damp so I scurried inside. Mom bellowed and croaked when she saw my footprint on the jagged floor. My brother stammered in after me and the clap from the door knocked over the ingredients for supper. The samovar and icicles pinned to the wall fell. A peck of icicles made a slit in the floor. My baby brother cooed and cooed. Mom made and exception that night and we ate supper in the living room.

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NORTHEAST MISSISSIPPI DAILY JOURNAL

2011 YOUTH CELEBRATION OF WRITING CONTEST

NORTHEAST MISSISSIPPI DAILY JOURNAL

Second Grade – Narrative/Essay 17

Braham Rinehart

Second Place Narrative/Essay Second Grade

Saltillo Primary School

“Deer Hunting” I got up at six in the morning. I was afraid that I would not kill a deer. My Dad and I got in the truck at 7:30 to go to the hunting stand. It was windy and part-

ly sunny. We got our guns propped up on our table. I had a two forty three and my Dad had his shot gun. We were waiting for an hour. I was tired and wore out. I wanted to kill a deer. We were about to leave when suddenly I saw three deer standing right under my deer stand. I picked out the big buck standing right by the tree. I quietly and slowly raised my gun. I wanted to be careful and not scare him. I took off my hat because it was in my way. I aimed at his shoulder and fired. I hit him, but he ran off and jumped the barbed wire fence. I climbed down the tree and started running as fast as I could to track him. I slid under the barbed wire fence and saw him about a mile away. He was looking straight at me. He started to walk away. He looked around and I saw a fantastic neck shot. I fired and he dropped and hit the tree to the side of him. He sounded like he weighed a ton when he hit the ground. I ran

Job well done! We are very proud of you! Dad, Mom, Taylor and Sydni

Third Grade – Poetry

Zach Crawford

Samantha Martin

ThirdPlace Narrative/Essay Second Grade

First Place - Poetry Third Grade

Saltillo Primary School

“The Sea Monster” Long ago two kids were playing outside. They kicked a soccer ball into the woods. When they went to get it, they saw an old house. They went in and saw scrolls all over the place. They pointed at one that said, “Sea Monster.” The boys were John and Cody. John wished to go. All of the sudden, the house disappeared from the woods and reappeared on the beach. The scroll said, “To get back to your land you must defeat a monster.” “How do we do that?” asked Cody. They thought and thought. Then Cody asked, “How would we get to it?” A man was coming. The boys went inside. Then they saw a picture of a boat. That’s it, we can build a boat. They built a boat. Then they went to sea. They went through it. They tried again. That got them home. It was time to go in.

to him, but I couldn’t lift him. Dad had to get the fourwheel drive and wench him out. We finally got him out of the dark and muddy woods. We got a good look at him. I noticed he had a scraped ear. Dad said he probably had been fighting another deer. Then we started counting his points. It was a young buck with 12 or 14 points. Dad said, “A dang good shot, that’s the biggest deer I’ve ever seen!” It was a day I will never forget. I love hunting with my Dad.

Saltillo Elementary School

“Daydream” As I was on my way home from school to my room so I could play I saw a squirrel climbing a tree “Wow!” I had to say. However... what I really saw, was a ‘monkey’ climbing a tree with a banana in his paw. He was wearing a cheer outfit that was green and gold. It was long sleeved so he was not cold. He climbed to sit on a branch and what did he see? And he thought to himself “a pig in a tutu sitting with me!”

And the tutu had had lights and the lights were so bright they shined through the night and drove my eyes out of sight. And then the monkey told the pig that he was a little bit hungry. And the pig said, “Let’s go climb down the tree and go drive with me.” They got in a monster-truck and they drove through the trees. Then the monkey asked where were they eating. The pig said, “Mickey D’s!” Then after they ate they drove the truck into the ground. It made a loud sound. It was a ‘POUND!” Then I woke up in my dad’s truck. A bump he did hit and as I looked up there was that squirrel throwing a fit. It was a daydream that I did see. No pig in a tutu, no monkey climbing a tree. It was just my imagination kind of running away. Guess I’ll look at the window some more, wait a minute...is that an elephant rolling in the hay?

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Third Grade – Poetry 20

Demi Franklin

Second Place Poetry Third Grade

No Photo Available

Third Place - Poetry Third Grade

Marcaia Orr

Lisa Stephan

Verona Elementary School

Saltillo Elementary School

“Gum Tree Writing”

“Shoot through the Hoop”

Gum Tree Writing is o-so exciting but, when it comes to writing it’s kind of frightening. I guess I will make it up tonight and turn it in but, will I win or loose? Let the judges choose. It’s not enough. This competition is tough. What will I do? What will I write? I’m going to be up all night. Mom says “Go to bed.” But, I can’t get this out of my head. I have no ideas. My mind is bare. I wish something would just pop into the air. Still no ideas. I think I’m stuck. I’ve ran out of all my luck. I guess I’m going to give up and quit thinking of something to write. Do like mom says and go to bed for the night.

My jersey is on. I’m ready to play. I’ve been at the gym. I practiced all day. The game is starting. I can’t believe it’s here. I was so excited, I dropped my gear.

Rankin Elementary School

“Spike and Me” I wish I had a dog Whose name was Spike. I wish I had a dog who was Black and white. I wish I had a dog as loving And caring as can be. I wish I had a dod that was loyal And obedient to me. We would go to the park To play fetch. Or stay in the yard To play catch. We would sleep on the couch Or watch T.V. We would be happy, Just Spike and me. We would do everything together. We would be best friends forever.

Third Grade – Narrative/Essay 23

Madison Grammer

First Place Narrative/Essay Third Grade

Saltillo Elementary School

“The Great Race” One Spring night, B.B. King and Elvis were roasting marshmallows and eating peanut butter and bannaner

sandwiches. B.B. King said, “Ever since we left home to go camping, all we’ve done is eat, sleep, and play our guitars. I think we’ve put on too many pounds.” So they thought and thought. Then, Elvis had an idea. “Ahaa! I know! Let’s go talk to Oprah about it!” Immediately, they scurried to Oprah’s show. As they walked in, B.B. King looked at Oprah and chanted, “Hey, hey sugar mama!” Oprah smiled and asked lots of questions. She then said, “You should run the Gum Tree race with me! If we don’t pass out, we can go read stories and look at art at the Gum Tree Festival. After that, we can even lay under a Gum Tree.” Elvis and B.B. King decided they were in. When race day came, Elvis, B.B. King, and Oprah put on their brightly colored tube socks, smiley face t-shirts, and polka dotted sweat bands. The guy on a large table shouted, “On your mark! Get set! Go!” All three friends started running

and ran for hours. Finally, they got finished! “B.B. King asked, “Do you think we lost weight?” Elvis said, “I’m not sure, but I think I lost my lunch.” Then Oprah came screaming, “We lost five pounds!” So to celebrate, they headed to the ice cream stand. (Clown cones are Elvis’s favorite!)

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2011 YOUTH CELEBRATION OF WRITING CONTEST

NORTHEAST MISSISSIPPI DAILY JOURNAL

Third Grade – Narrative/Essay 24

Alyssa Brohawn

Second Place Narrative/Essay Third Grade

Lawhon Elementary School

“Untitled” I hear the wind blowing through the trees and slowly but surely lifting me up to the sky.

McKenzie Butts

Third Place Narrative/Essay Third Grade

Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

“My Life as a Slave” Today I am telling you about my life as a slave. I got so many whippings for weird reasons like not working fast enough. I worked so hard and did not even get

I feel like an angel soaring above the trees and beyond the meadows. Down below me I see incredible views. I see farms, houses, animals, gardens and crop fields. The feeling I have is pleasant. With the breeze embracing me, and the wind blowing through my hair, I feel the damp air surrounding me. I slowly fly higher and higher above the clouds as I maneuver over and under them.

explore many different places that I never thought existed! The valley is so very beautiful and peaceful. Suddenly, for some odd reason, I just fell to the ground. All this time, it was only a dream... yet a wonderful dream, I thought to myself. Such a wonderful dream!

With the sunlight in my eyes, I turn to a valley and glide towards it. There are great mountains behind it and beyond the horizon. With a light thump I land in it’s golden ground, and paid. I had so many scars. When I got sick, there was nothing I could do. I really wanted to run away. You would want to run away, too. In the winter it was really cold. One day they sold my dad to a different owner. My whole family was crying when that happened. I was very sad. One day I had a plan. I was going to run away. I had to tell my mom. I was scared, very scared. I tried to keep my mouth closed about it. I did a good job on that. It was getting closer and closer to the night I was going to run away. I was excited but scared. Each night it got closer. It was only in a few weeks! Days passed. It was scary. I wanted to leave the next night, but it was not safe. The closer it came the more excited I got. I started making some plans. My mom did not like what I was doing, but I did. I felt bad that I was not bringing anyone with me but I did not. Then it became time. Finally, I was traveling. I could not wait until I got to

a stop! I thought I was getting close to a stop. I was right, I found a stop that night. I was so excited! They gave me a great supper. After a few nights, I had to move on. One night, the big dipper was not out. I got scared, but then I remembered the moss is on the north side of the tree. Then I saw a signal, it was a lantern on a tree branch. It felt good when I was at a house hiding. My conductors were very nice to me. One of them gave me a band-aid for my scar. He also put some medicine on it. The next day I had to move on. I went across like ten rivers. When I got to the next stop they told me I would go straight to freedom after that stop. That made me excited. When I got to Canada, I had to go to a building. They said I was free!

Fourth Grade – Poetry 26

Sara Frances Wolfe

Fist Place - Poetry Fourth Grade Rankin Elementary School

Congratulations, Sara Frances! Love, Mama, Daddy and Meri Alan

Mary Ashton Priest

Second Place Poetry Fourth Grade

Saltillo Elementary School

“Excitement”

“My White Christmas”

Excitement is sneaking like a prowling cat. Excitement is finding your long lost hat. Excitement is knowing it’s a special day. Excitement is winning a game you play. Excitement is living the impossible life. Excitement is narrowly escaping a knife. Excitement is living your favorite dream. Excitement is discovering that bad things aren’t what they seem. Excitement is getting to be with friends. Excitement is knowing that friendship never ends.

It was a white Christmas as I could see. I was so happy I was full with glee. All of a sudden I heard some whispers, turns out it was all my sisters. I was so happy they were awake at last, so we ran down stairs in a hurry so fast. We saw the snow, we saw the presents, we were opening things in just seconds! I ran outside what a glow, there just was so much snow. When I jumped in I couldn’t walk, it made me speechless, I couldn’t talk.

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2011 YOUTH CELEBRATION OF WRITING CONTEST

Fourth Grade – Poetry 28

Danny Louis Sanders

Third Place - Poetry Fourth Grade Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

“Snoring”

“Bieber Fever”

My Grandfather is snoring. My room is cloaked in black. So, I creep down stairs, To get a midnight snack.

I love Justin Bieber! My mom says I have Bieber Fever!

I keep on tossing and turning. The snoring will never stop. When I looked on my desk, I found out it was twelve o’clock. When I woke up that morning, I heard the birds go cheep cheep. I found it hard to believe that I actually fell asleep. When I went to school, I started to doze in History class. If my Grandfather stays, I will never pass. My Grandfather said he must leave. I hugged him and begged him to stay. But, he got in his car, And drove slowly away. Now that he’s gone, I will get a good night’s rest. But although he snores, He is still the best.

Fourth Grade – Narrative/Essay

Kristin White

Second Place Poetry Fourth Grade

When I climbed back into bed, The snoring sounded like an engine. It also sounded like some stuff, That I don’t want to mention.

THURSDAY, MAY 5, 2011 ■ PAGE 9E

I lay down in bed, As his songs fill my head. I think about him all day long. “One Less Lonely Girl” is my favorite song. While I am doing my homework, I can’t help but think Justin Bieber is so cute All the other boys stink. Justin is my favorite crush, When I see him my heart begins to rush! My favorite movie is “Never Say Never” I think I will love him forever. When I am old sitting in the rocking chair I will still love him and his cool hair!

30 No Photo Available

Jared Brown

First Place Narrative/Essay Fourth Grade

Shannon Elementary School

“The Last War” “Honey, come say goodbye to your grandpa!” My mom called from the front door. My grandpa was leaving for war for the second time. He had been staying with us. I was a little upset with him because he already saved our country once. Although I was upset, it was a very heartbreaking moment to watch is red pick-up truck turn into a dot over the horizon. I called him everyday in between meals. He called me one day and said that I could call him no longer because he was going to Iraq. About two months later, the phone rang. I answered it and there was a man with a deep voice that asked me if this was the Brown residence. I said, “Yes.” He asked for my mom, Melissa Brown. The told my mom something that made her cry. I asked her what was wrong and she said, “Paw-Paw isn’t coming home.” I cried so much that I had tear stains on my cheeks. My Paw-Paw was buried in an Alabama cemetery by soldiers in uniforms. An American Flag covered the casket. Then, out of nowhere, “Pow!” The fellow army men shot a twenty-one gun salute in the air. I’m still very sad, but my Paw-Paw is always in my heart.

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Fourth Grade – Narrative/Essay 31

Second Place Narrative/Essay Fourth Grade

Third Place Narrative/Essay Fourth Grade

Tyler Estes

Claire Bailey

Mooreville Elementary School

Pierce Street Elementary School

“Dangerous Motorcycle Ride”

“The Best Day Ever”

Naaaaan! The sound my motorcycle made as I soared past my house. I was going to try to jump over the fire pit while it was on fire (which by the way is real deadly). As I was riding as fast as I could to get big air to jump over the pit, I took a deep breath. I twisted my handle bar back as far as I could twist it. Then I hit the jump and went into the air. I thought to my self, “I did it, I jumped the fire pit,” I said. It felt great to accomplish something so risky. My momma came running out of the house saying, “Boy you really scared me.” So kids don’t try this at home because you will scare your mom out of her pants.

One cold winter Monday morning, I opened my eyes from a long sleep, and looked at my bedside table. My tired eyes see a bright glare of blue, then I realize it’s my clock. It says 9:30 a.m. I lay there for a moment. Then suddenly like a flash of lightening, I remember it’s Monday. Me, myself, and I all at the same time sat up at the same time. Millions of thoughts flowed through my mind on why it was 9:30. Was my clock wrong? Had I overslept? Then it hit me like Babe Ruth hitting a home run. It had snowed a lot last night. School must have been canceled. I got out of bed and zoomed into the living room to find my parents talking. As I stood there gasping for breath, my parents smiled. After I caught m breath I said in a tired tone, “Do I have school today?” She said, “No.” At first I was sad because I love school. Then my mom said I could go outside and roll around in the snow. I almost screamed. I ate breakfast, crunch

Congratulations! We are very proud of you! Keep up the good work. Love, Mom, Scott, Madison, Mammaw, and Emmalee

crunch, and got dressed. I put on my sweatshirt, red jacket, jeans, hat, gloves, and some cool boots. After that, I yanked open the door. I ran so fast outside I almost fell. I leaped into the pure white glistening snow. I left footsteps up and down our backyard. Once my parents came outside. I formed some snow into a ball and flung it at them. I got my Dad! After that we went walking up and down the street. Suddenly I see it..... the enemy. One of the boys on our street named Garrett is coming up the street. I screamed, “SNOWBALL FIGHT!” I was throwing snowballs everywhere! I hit my Dad. I hit my Mom. I hit Garrett. I was having a blast! We went back home after that covered in snow and tired. I took off the big jacket, hat, gloves, and cool boots. My mom made me some hot chocolate. The steamy, chocolate drink made me feel nice and toasty. I watched T.V., snuggled up in my blankets and fell asleep later that night. That was the best day ever. I hope it happens again.

Claire: We are proud of you! Love, Mom & Dad; Pop, MeMaw and Papaw, Gg & Pop, Sylvia, Len and Melissa

Fifth Grade – Poetry 33

Kandace Gladney

First Place - Poetry Fifth Grade

Lawndale Elementary School

“Alone at Night” The wind blew fast when the sun went down. No lights were on anywhere in the town. Walking home, getting carried by the wind Cars riding by and going for a spin. I reach home to hear glass shatter Dishes fell to the floor and began to clatter.

In the dark feeling alone All of a sudden I heard the phone. For the very first time I picked it up No one was on the line, so I hung up. I began to go to sleep and wake up and hear A noise that sounds like a hungry sheep. Lying down in the bed I began to realize Why my life was becoming jeopardized. I rolled over and began to dream About my family being a team.

Congratulations on your accomplishments! We are very proud of you. Love, Momma, Grannie, Gran Gran, Kiara, KeSon and Kai

Ashlyn Driskell

Second Place Poetry Fifth Grade

Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

“Ann McFly” There once was a girl name Ann McFly. She had lots of wants; we know the reasons why. She was influenced by her Uncle Dave, who always wanted but never gave. Ann cried and asked and begged and pleaded. All the things she got, she never needed. After she got something, she screamed, “I want more!” And we raced back and forth, from our home to the store. Then one day as her toys reached the ceiling, we didn’t hear screams, so we got a weird feeling. We raced to her room where the space was tight, but Ann McFly was nowhere in sight. The lion we bought her was awfully fat, We felt relieved and that was that.

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2011 YOUTH CELEBRATION OF WRITING CONTEST

PAGE 10E ■ THURSDAY, MAY 5, 2011

2011 YOUTH CELEBRATION OF WRITING CONTEST

Fifth Grade – Poetry 35

Trippe Howell

Third Place - Poetry Fifth Grade

Lawndale Elementary School

“Sisters”

Super sensitive In my business Stubborn Torturous Evil Restless

Scary looking in the morning.

Julie Simmons

Second Place Narrative Essay Fifth Grade

Saltillo Elementary School

“Louise’s Amazing Story” Some people are nerds, while some may be considered “popular.” Louise Lanker was both in two years. People called her a nerd in fourth grade and a famous star in fifth grade.

THURSDAY, MAY 5, 2011 ■ PAGE 11E

Fifth Grade – Narrative/Essay 36

Abby Hanby

First Place Narrative/Essay Fifth Grade

Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

“Why Humans and Spiders are Enemies” Have you ever wondered why humans and spiders don’t like each other? This is the reason why. Once upon a time, there was a little girl named Emily. She was seven years old and was the youngest of four kids. Her house was in the middle of nowhere, and her dad owned eight. She had plenty of places to play. One day Emily was playing in the meadow. She was swinging on a tire-swing that her dad attached to a tree. Suddenly, she saw a black critter crawling up the side of the tree. Emily started to think it was a tick, but then she noticed that it had eight legs and tons of eyes. The thing crawled to Emily and started to speak. It said in a deep voice, “Hello, my name is Jasper. I’m a blackwidow, otherwise known as a spider. What’s your name?” Emily stared in disbelief. She replied, “Uh, my name is Emily.” She could hear the nervousness in her voice. The spider looked at her and said, “ I don’t have many friends. Would you like to be my friend? I’ll show you my bedroom and the new web I just spun. We can also go to the park.” Emily was filled with excitement. How many people got to be friends with a spider? “Sure,” she replied, “I’d love to be your friend.” He

Louise was a short, overweight, and nerdy girl at the first year. Everyone always made fun of her. But, she had one friend. Her name is Elenor Esnock. They stayed together no matter what. Louise loved Elenor. Elenor loved Louise. Louise had a HUGE secret that Elenor didn’t even know. She loved acting. She won an award (candy) at her last school. She was the best actress in Seattle. At school the next day, Louise saw a sign-up sheet for the fourth grade play! It was Shakespeare’s most famous play, “Romeo and Juliet”! Well, Louise made a beeline towards the sheet. She HAD to be Juliet. But, when Louise read the sheet, she figured out you had to audition for it! In line to audition, Louise was shivering. She was first! Louise thought she did good. She had no idea what was coming. She made the part of Juliet! Rehearsal was about to start. Louise memorized her lines. She was awesome!

smiled and said, “I’ll meet you here tomorrow, same time same place.” They both heard Emily’s mom calling her to come inside. Emily ran across the meadow. “See you tomorrow!” she yelled. The next day Emily came back to the spot, and Jasper was there too. “Hey Emily, would you like to go to the park? I love the park. The slide is the best part.” “Yeah!” she answered. So they went and swung on the swings and slid down the slide. The next day Jasper was waiting at the spot. “Emily, next Monday is my birthday and I’m throwing a party. You want to come?” Emily was so happy. She loved parties. She said yes immediately. The day before the party Emily started to help Jasper decorate. She blew up balloons and Japer put them anywhere that was necessary, they put ribbon and bows everywhere. The morning of the party, Emily was very excited. She got him the perfect gift. Right when she was about to leave the phone rang. Emily’s older sister had died in a horrible car accident. All of Emily’s excitement vanished. She forgot about Jasper. She left with her family. Meanwhile, the spider was at his party and Emily didn’t show up. He was mad. Why would she not show up? Two weeks passed and Emily didn’t come to the meadow. Jasper decided to get revenge. That night he crawled himself to Emily’s room. He crawled on Emily and bit her arm. After an hour, Emily was dead. She deserved it, he thought. Spiders are enemies of humans to this day. That is the reason why.

Congratulations, Abby! We love you and are so proud of you. Mom & Dad, Russell, Allison and Olivia

After many rehearsals, the play finally came. Louise got into her costume while her parents encouraged her. Louise was so nervous! They drove to her school, and Louise got in her position. The curtains opened. Louise started to talk. After the play, Louise was applauded by many people. A big, nice looking guy walked up to Louise. He asked her something she never thought she would hear. He asked her if she wanted her very own television show. She said yes! A year later, there wasn’t one person in America that didn’t know her. Louise was famous! Louise Lanker was no longer a short, overweight, nerdy girl.

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2011 YOUTH CELEBRATION OF WRITING CONTEST

NORTHEAST MISSISSIPPI DAILY JOURNAL

Fifth Grade – Narrative/Essay 38

Reagan Cook

Third Place Narrative Essay Fifth Grade

Lawndale Elementary School

“The Crazy Turkey” It was the day before Thanksgiving and everybody was at the store. I was hoping nobody would buy me. It was almost time for the store to close, and nobody had chosen me yet. Ten minutes before the store was closing, I noticed that a family was marching closer and closer to me. I tried to hide, but they spotted me. The man with the big blue jacket cried, “This is the perfect one. Let’s buy it.” “Please don’t buy me,” I cried. But they didn’t understand my language. I have to find a way to get

away from these people. The whole night I was up trying to think of a plan. Okay, Plan 1 – I can jump out of the window. “No, that’s too far down,” I cried. I need to make another plan. Plan 2 – I could run away when they take me outside for some air. Maybe… Let’s look at Plan 3. I could trick them into taking me back to the store by being a nasty and ugly turkey. “Yea,” I stated. “I think I am going to go with Plan 3 because I know a way to be a very nasty and ugly turkey.” So that night I rolled in dirt. I didn’t want to, but I took some black-eyed peas out of the garden. I ate them, and my breath was stinking. “Now I need something else,” I cried. I just don’t know. I got it! I could tear up the house, and then he would take me back to the store. The next morning the man and the rest of the family woke up. I heard the man as he asked the kids, “Did you do this?” “No!” They answered together. “I was about to ask you if you did this,” said the oldest girl. The man’s wife said, “Oh, no.” “What’s wrong?” asked the man. “I think I know who did this.” Everybody cried, “Who?”

“That turkey!” Everybody ran to the kitchen where the turkey was. He was covered in dirt, and his breath was stinking. It smelled like black-eyed peas. Everybody cried, “It’s time to take this turkey back!” So we all grabbed our coats, the turkey, and drove to the store. They explained what happened, and they replaced me with another turkey. They cleaned me off, and I was back where I started from – on the shelf hanging with my friends. After that, nobody wanted me or my friends because they hang out with me. We all lived happily ever after.

Sixth Grade – Poetry 39

Second Place Poetry Sixth Grade

Third Place - Poetry Sixth Grade

Jordan Davis

Tonja Graham

First Place - Poetry Sixth Grade Plantersville Middle School

Edie Thomas

Milam Elementary School

Guntown Middle School

“Take a Bite Out of My Heart”

“Miracle”

“I Am....”

Emotions can make you hurt on a snowy day. A snowflake melts underneath your eye, Slowly crusading down your face. Love is just one part of emotions. Love is a magical ball that could easily perish by the crucifying hatred of others. Emotions fly around an abounding room like a basket of radiant and glistening fireflies into hazardous conniving bees swarming around you ready to slay, destroy, kill, your only heartfelt emotions. Emotions make your heart pound to the beauteous hymn of your partner’s melodic foot taps. Real emotions are when your heart, mind, and soul can’t stop wondering what if it was just you and me. Together, forever in eternity, until the trust and desire fades away into the immense blur of...... EMOTIONS!

Your feelings are mixed. You can’t think straight. You’re scared. You see him with tubes all over his body. Oxygen tanks all around the room, the doctors say he probably won’t live. You think they’re wrong. You pray for him, then you see a flash of light. Some call him a miracle, some call him lucky. But I call him Grandpa.

I am a ruby hummingbird who is caring and respectful. I am a rainbow peacock who is curious about life. I am a pearl magnolia flower who hears people’s thoughts. I am a sapphire whale who sees people’s true passion. I am a sliver of jade grass who desires a great education. I am a pink diamond pig who pretends to be a princess. I am turquoise rain drop who feels God beside me. I am a colorful rainbow who understands my true friends around me. I am an amber cat who dreams of being successful one day. I am a ruby hummingbird who is caring and respectful.

Congratulations, Edie...and thank you, Milam teachers, for a great year!

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PAGE 12E ■ THURSDAY, MAY 5, 2011

2011 YOUTH CELEBRATION OF WRITING CONTEST

Sixth Grade – Narrative/Essay

Sixth Grade – Poetry 42

Third Place - Poetry Sixth Grade

First Place Narrative/Essay Sixth Grade

Ethan Caviness

Anna Claire Priest

Guntown Middle School

“Storm” Clouds turned from white to gray, wind whipped my hair into my face. The sky looked more like night than day. Animals searched for a hiding place. Thunder clouds clapped and boomed. Lightening illuminated the sky, as I watched from the safety of my room. All the clouds began to cry. A funnel swirled above my house and all the leaves left the ground. I was quiet as a mouse as the funnel approached the dirt violently spinning around. Suddenly everything ended. Clouds no longer cried. The funnel ascended and the sun shone in the sky.

Emma Woolhouse

Second Place Narrative/Essay Sixth Grade

Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

“The Wolf’s Revenge” If you’ve ever wondered what happened after Little Red Riding Hood’s granny got the wolf kicked out of the forest, you’ve come to the right place. I’ll tell you all about it.... One day Tony the wolf was nosing around the library, reading every murder mystery they had for an idea, one that included a certain wolf and granny. And suddenly, there it was! This was going to be marvelous. Granny was finally going to get it! Ring-a-ling!! “Hello?” Red Riding Hood answered the phone. “Is that you, Red? It’s Granny; listen up.”

THURSDAY, MAY 5, 2011 ■ PAGE 13E

Guntown Middle School

“Taken” In the pitch, black night under the orange, full moon, a U.S. military training ops was happening at precisely 2300 hours. A Russian spy had escaped out of federal prison and was on the move, seeking revenge among the people who put him there. The soldiers had no idea that the spy was in those woods. As the soldiers were splitting up, the spy made his move. One soldier was taken, and one soldier taken means one less soldier to report. Another soldier was heading toward the lake when the spy jumped down from the tree above, so silently that not even a leaf falling could compare. The spy performed a special martial arts technique and knocked the second soldier out. The spy had now taken two out of ten soldiers. The spy moved swiftly through the silent night, cutting through tall trees and weeds. Later, the lieutenant was checking his surroundings and never even got a chance to look up when he was taken. When the lieutenant didn’t report, the soldiers

Red Riding Hood grimaced. She couldn’t stand being called ‘Red’. But since it was Granny, she didn’t mind (much). Granny continued. “I have a mission for you but you better come over here and I will explain. It’s complicated.” When she walked into Granny’s small cottage, Granny got right down to business and said, “Now, Red, here’s what you gotta do. I want you to spy on Tony. He’s up to something.” Red swallowed. “All you have to do is watch him for a little while, and see what he’s up to.” Granny leaned back and smiled like she had given her a present. “All I have to do,” Red thought. Tony couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was following him. But, oh well, he had better things to think about. He had just finished writing his plan of attack on Granny! Oh, no! Where did his plan, his wonderful, horrible plan, go? He turned his back for one minute, and -poof!- gone. Little Red Riding Hood ran faster than she had ever run before. She could not believe she had actually taken Tony’s plan! It was just lucky Tony had turned his back. She slowed as she neared Granny’s house. She walked in and saw Granny pacing in front of the fireplace. When Granny saw her she sprang to life and showered her with questions. “What happened? Did you learn anything?” Red Riding Hood pulled the Plan

started looking for him and the other missing soldiers in teams of three and four. With he spy still out lurking, they were sure to be taken, as well. The spy had set traps for the search teams. The search team of three soldiers hit the trip wire and a titanium cage, pure and solid, landed on them and they were taken. It was as if they had just disappeared. The other search team of four soldiers was taken the same way. No one knew that they were taken. The next day, another military unit was trying to get in touch with the lieutenant by radio. When they didn’t receive a response from the lieutenant or anyone else, they loaded up in their jeeps and swiftly drove out. When they arrived at the training camp, it was totally deserted, but they had a secret weapon. They had General Stark, who had been trained in every kind of abduction situation imaginable. He worked for a whole week. He used highly trained dogs to find the soldiers by tracking their scent. Finally he tracked down the missing soldiers, hidden underground, in pits. They were starving and had been beaten, but were returned to an army hospital for treatment and were reunited with their families. General Stark decided to go after the Russian spy. He intercepted Intel from the spy’s computer through the FBI radio waves and found the spy’s location, Los Angeles, California. Stark and his men loaded into the Hummers provided by the US Military and set course for Los Angeles, California. The spy was in a hotel near the San Andreas Fault. The Hummers maneuvered to the front, him on the computer. Then, the team took him prisoner and this time the spy was the one taken.

out of her pocket. Her eyes widened as she read it. “Granny,” she said in a trembling voice, “Tony is going to kill you!” Granny looked thoughtful and said, “Huh. That’s a new one. Luckily, I have a plan.” “You are a wonder,” Tony thought. It wasn’t every wolf that could make a whole new plan in an hour. As he approached Granny’s house, he chuckled to himself. As she crouched behind the couch, Red Riding Hood reviewed her karate moves in her head. She giggled and then stopped as she heard a creaking sound. She caught her breath when the silhouette of a wolf appeared. She took a deep breath, and sprang into the air. “KEE-YAH!” Tony gasped in surprise as she pinned him to the ground. “Now, Granny!” she yelled, and Granny dialed the zoo. “Who’s behind bars now, Tony?” Red taunted as the zoo’s truck chugged down the driveway. Tony bared his teeth, but she laughed, for she knew Granny was finally safe.

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NORTHEAST MISSISSIPPI DAILY JOURNAL

Sixth Grade – Narrative/Essay 45

Austin Parker

Third Place Narrative/Essay Sixth Grade

Mooreville Middle School

“Robot Patrol” The clouds were peeking at the bottom of the sun; that made the sun a bit dimmer. The warmth delighted Michael. Although these references were splendid, he was determined to sell his robot. Michael Patterson was thirty-six. His brown, curly perm went to his neck. He was a skyscraper. Although he contained the IQ of one hundred eighty-three, he was called lame and dorky. Michael marched from the apartment to his car. He slammed the car door and was off. A large group of people came to greet Michael at the main door. They all directed Michael to the meeting room to discuss the robot. “Tell us about it,” asked the manager of the hospital. He had a thick Russian accent

Katie Darnell

Third Place Narrative/Essay Sixth Grade

Milam Elementary School

“Stingray City” “Ewww! Gross!” I screeched as my grandmother, Gigi, and I cut the thawed out squid on the edge of the kitchen counter. We put the slimy squid into a cooler. It felt mild in Cayman Islands as I carried it out to the white boat where my grandfather was preparing to take us to Stingray City, a place where you go and see wild stingrays in the middle of the ocean. My grandfather, Allan, and I checked the motor and made sure we had enough life jackets. My mom, dad, and my sister came

from his mouth. He had no hair, but his arms were gorilla-like. “Well, this robot is programed to,” began Michael,”perform minor surgeries, assist doctors, and clean a room. The good thing is you don’t have to pay it a thing.” This was getting the manager’s attention. “I’ll take three,” the manager said. The robot just stood there. It seemed the buttons turned it on. The robot’s head cocked in the direction of the manager. It leaped from the long table and onto the manager’s back. “Oh, no! Somebody get it off of me!” panicked the manager. The robot shredded off the manager’s light blue shirt. Then, it ran into the hallways, and it grew bigger with every step it took on the floor. “Wow,” he whispered to himself in a corner. Only two were left. “Look out the window!” exclaimed the manager, sprinting to the window. It revealed a twenty-foot robot waddling across a highway. “The name’s Reginald Jones,” said the manager. “I’m Michael Patterson,” Michael replied. Without a shirt on, Reginald was sunburned. “I guess we’re a team on a mission,” Reginald remarked. “What mission?” “Stop that robot.” Michael started to scowl at Reginald. Reginald clutched a grenade from the emergency room. “Wait a

second,” Michael said. “The robot absorbs metal. That’s why it’s getting bigger. I’ll have to shut it down,” he snapped. “No, I’m sorry, but that’s too risky. We’ll just have to blow it up.” “I made it indestructible. You can’t harm it.” “Well, I guess we’ll have to trap it. Then, we can shut it down.” “That’s good enough,” replied Michael. So, they marched onward, and each step took them closer to the fifty-foot robot. “Now!” Michael blurted. Reginald slung a rope over the robot. The robot fell hard. “Turn it off!” Reginald gasped. Michael jumped on, opened the power panel, and turned it off. It turned lifeless. “I couldn’t have done it better myself,” remarked Reginald. At the end of the day, they both buried the robot. “Let’s have lunch some time,” said Reginald. “Does Sunday sound good?” asked Michael. “Yes.” With that they were off.

outside and jumped into the boat. Gigi came last with a Styrofoam cup filled with sweet tea with a freshly cut lemon and a cooler filled with Sprite, Coke, and green tea. Allan asked me, “Hey, Katie. Would you like to drive the boat out to the clearing?” I stood beside my grandfather trembling with nerves as Allan pulled the boat away from the dock. Allan said, “Alright, Captain Katie, take it away.” I hopped up into the tall seat and started driving towards the canal. The canal was narrow, and the sides were tall stone walls with bright green trees hanging over them. I kept the speed at five miles per hour to keep the wake low. Then I approached the clearing. My jaw dropped with awe. You could see for miles. Allan yelled, “Kick it up to twenty.” In the next ten seconds, I was flying over waves, slashing them in half. Five minutes later there was a small dot in the distance. Gigi announced, “That’s Stingray City!” I got excited. Allan took it over from there because I wanted to go sit at the front of the boat. I walked on the side of the boat hoping not to fall off, and I sat down on the slick surface. The wind was blowing through my hair. Then we approached Stingray City. The water was clear as glass. Large tour boats filled with people surrounded the sandbar. People were snorkeling all around our

boat looking at massive stingrays. Gigi got out the squid, and we tossed it into the water. A stingray skimmed the top of the water and gulped down a piece. My sister and I put on our life jackets and together we jumped into the cold, salty water. Underneath us, enormous stingrays swam around with long stingers dangling behind. So we swam away. Finally, we reached the sand bar. A tall guy walked up to us and asked, “Would ya’ll like to hold one?” We were thinking, that would be awesome but no way am I going to hold one of those treacherous creatures. Then my sister answered, “YES!” I was like, “Are you insane?” Then I had an animal that can kill me in my own hands. It was bigger than my sister plus me. It’s skin was hard, slick, and slimy. In my heart, I felt like I was dead. I wanted to put it down but I couldn’t drop it. Finally, we let it go, and it swam away. We swam back to the boat at blazing speed. We hopped on the back of the boat and stopped for a minute for a time in shock. I said, “I just held a killer beast. Oh, yeah.”

We are so proud of you and are excited your talent is being recognized. Love, Mom and Dad

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2011 YOUTH CELEBRATION OF WRITING CONTEST

THURSDAY, MAY 5, 2011 ■ PAGE 15E

Seventh Grade – Poetry 48

Kaitlyn Box

Guntown Middle School

Goodbye my fellow man who Is no longer with us Goodbye our fellow Firefighter with solemn Hugs and kisses Today’s the day they put You in the ground May you Rest in peace while your voice While you voice Hasn’t been Found

We are so very proud of you!! Love you, Mom, Dad, Anna Grace, Mamaw, Papaw, Granddaddy and Grandmaw.

Melea Mansel

Second Place Poetry Seventh Grade

First Place - Poetry Seventh Grade

“Goodbye Our Fellow Man”

James Taylor McDonald

Third Place - Poetry Seventh Grade

Guntown Middle School

“Stray Dog”

“Taco Bell”

I’ve been beaten and tormented kicked and insulted I wonder through the night I can’t help but sulking

For decades beef has been a favorite in the American home.

I go place to place thriving for a home and even if they pick me I’ll be gone in a week I’m just a loner and all I do is seek for a family to love not a harsh shove People point people laugh because I haven’t had a bath I’m tired of my bruised feet I really wish you would help me but you won’t you say you will help me but you won’t STOP ANIMAL CRUELTY!

Congratulations, Taylor! I am so proud of you. Keep up the good work! Daddy

Hamburger steak is what inspired me to write this poem. I’m tired of hamburgers, I don’t mean to be rude, but please go and find me some ethnic food. Where do you get it? It’s not that complex. It’s where tortillas are consumed, just use your GPS. Jump in the car and use your Cardinal Directions. Find a Taco Bell, and you win my affections. I try to harness my excitement, I’m glad my blue jeans expand. My dad just got home with Taco Bell in hand. It’s a ritual for me to eat my crunch wrap supreme. Oh what’s this, a burrito? Dad, can you exchange?

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Seventh Grade – Narrative/Essay 50

Beth Brinkley

First Place Narrative/Essay Seventh Grade

Guntown Middle School

“Churchland Hills Church” “Carmon, no, stop!” Those were the last words I said to Carmon Tucker. You see, we were checking out the old haunted Churchland Hills Church. It was broken down and almost in shambles. We wanted to know if the old story about the bloodstains being everywhere was true. We knew the church had been used as a hospital for all the injured men during World War II. It is still told today that the souls of the dead men still haunt

Jennifer Clifton

Second Place Narrative/Essay Seventh Grade

Mooreville Middle School

“Snow Day 2009” It was the first spine-chilling, snowy day of winter. The house was dead silent. My room was lightened only by the vague sparks of light from the bedroom window. Suddenly, a distinct tap-tap-tap sound of footsteps sliced the silence like a Samurai on the stroke of midnight awaiting his blood enemy. I open my fright-filled

Addie Hitt

Third Place Narrative/Essay Seventh Grade

Mooreville Middle School

“The Perfect Day” We had one minute left in the fourth quarter, still down by six. Jeremiah Massoli, the Ole Miss Rebels quarterback, stood in the pocket. With ten seconds left on the play clock, Massoli said, Down-set-hut.” When we arrived, we jumped out of the truck and began our endless walk to the roaring stadium. As we entered the gate, we maneuvered our way through

the place. We thought all that was a tall tale, but, boy, were we wrong. The wind whistled and howled eerily as Carmon, Bradley, my dog Elvis, and I made our way up the rickety steps. Just as we reached the door, the wind jerked it open and slammed it against the wall almost scaring us away. The faint shadows scattering across the walls and the voices whispering our names should have a warning to get out fast, but terror held us captive. Elvis added his hysterical barking to the cacophony of sounds that were coming from every corner of the room. Panic gripped my mind as I saw Carmon walking in a trance toward a black door. I yelled at Carmon to stop, but she walked as if she was possessed. She never said anything or even looked back at us. The huge black door swallowed her as she neared. We tried to reach for her, but the door slammed violently in our faces. We could hear her screaming now. It was a death scream. I stood there helpless, weak, and bloody as I had beaten the door until Carmon’s cries had grown fainter. I feel to the cold floor with my arms wrapped around Elvis. Meanwhile, Bradley was spazzing out searching for a

way out and wailing that we were going to die and nobody would ever find us: “Our bodies will be left for the worms and rodents” he shrieked! I had to shake him so that we could focus on an escape plan before we were both destroyed. We soon fell down a stairway into more misery as we crawled on our hands and knees in the dirt and foul smelling basement. Sticky cobwebs (which meant Black Widows were here) were clinging to me as Bradley lit a cigarette. This was no time for his nasty habit so with a smooth fluid movement I kicked the lighter to the floor where it sparked gunpowder and we had measly seconds to drop and roll before the wall blasted out around us. We scrambles through the hole in the wall bleeding, crying and shivering as we stumbled to the nearest store to call 911. That was the last day we saw Carmon until her Memorial Service when during the prayer we felt a wave of premonition, looked up simultaneously, and saw Carmon hovering over her flowers. She waved and said in her quiet, gentle voice, “Goodbye.”

eyes just as the footsteps come to a halt. I reassuringly close my eyes once again. Moments later, I hear someone solemnly whispering my name into my ear. I open my eyes once again only to see a dark figure standing in my doorway. I immediately sit upright in my bed frightened beyond my wildest dreams. I twist the light switch on my nightstand and see that it is my pathetic sister. She tells me that it’s 6 o’clock and its snowing outside. I looked at her with disbelief and spring right up from my cozy bed to the window to take a peek. What I saw was astounding. Fluffy blankets of snow were piled up smoothly across the ground glistening as a ray of sunlight shone directly on an ice crystal. Icicles hung in bright array from the rooftop, dripping slightly from the sun’s presence. I close the blinds to shield the majestic beauty of winter to face my sister and prepare ourselves to witness the immense beauty nature had created. After we asked permission to go outside, we make a dramatic appearance going outside. The snow was absolutely beautiful and since we were the first to ven-

ture outside, our tracks were the first imprints on the ground. I didn’t want to ruin the beautiful scenery with my footprints, but apparently my sister and I are complete opposites and off she goes trampling the snow into mush on her way to take a snapshot of a snowdrenched tree. I struggle to catch up with her on her own tracks trying not to step on fresh snow with failure. When I stagger up to where she was, she’s already at a different location. She points out the hill beside our pool. She takes off towards it leaving me all alone. When I finally discover she has left, I sprint after her once by the hill, she outstretches her arms as a surfer, takes a firm stance, and slides down the hill on her tottering feet. She flails her arms violently in the air trying to regain balance…with epic failure. I laugh at her and stop to think, that wasn’t a bad idea. Of course, it turned out it was a bad idea, but it didn’t matter. We had a great time, and that’s all that mattered.

curves and turns until we reached the opening into a bright stadium with fans everywhere and the aroma of bar-b-que and popcorn lingering in the air. We staggered up dozens of stairs before reaching our nosebleed seats. It was an eventful first half. The Rebels went into the locker room with a score of 17-21, Kentucky Wildcats leading. Before reentering the arena, the Rebel’s Pride of the South Marching Band played. When the Rebels returned, the atmosphere was filled with the applause and screaming of supporters. After about five minutes of warming back up, the second half of the game began. When fifteen minutes had elapsed, the third quarter ended with the score of 27-35. We were still behind, but I had faith in my Rebels. The fourth quarter started. Most of the quarter was scoreless until we had one minute on the clock, still down by six. Massoli stood in the pocket. With ten seconds left on the play clock, Massoli said, “Down-set-hut.” The linemen went into action: blocking and shoving, trying to give Massoli time to get the ball out of his hands. Massoli quickly found Jesse Grandy, Ole Miss’ wide-out,

and made the connection. I just knew there was no stopping him now. He broke one tackle, missed the second, and “Bang!” Just like that he was gone into the end zone. Touchdown! Ole Miss Rebels! Bryson Rose, our field-goal kicker, drilled it into the uprights to make the score 36-36. We kicked off, but the Wildcats just weren’t fast enough. In less than no time, the game was over. We had won! The band played our victory song, and we waved our red and blue pom-poms, screaming as loudly as we could. It was the perfect ending to the perfect day!

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Eighth Grade – Poetry 54

Emily Turman

Jonathan Hopper

Austin McDivitt

Second Place Poetry Eighth Grade

First Place - Poetry Eighth Grade

Guntown Middle School

Third Place - Poetry Eighth Grade

Guntown Middle School

Mooreville Middle School

“I Wonder”

“Replacement”

“Yellow Roses”

What’s the problem with the world? Can we change it? Or are we forced to accept what it gives us? I wonder.

There used to be kisses But now there are lies. There used to be laughs But now there are cries.

Is it hunger? Death? Pain and suffering? I wonder.

There used to be hugs But now there are fights. There used to be days But now there are nights.

Maybe the real problem is us. Our self pity, self gratification, self anything Maybe we make our own problems. I wonder.

There used to be smiles But now there are sneers. There used to be gazes But now there are glares.

If yellow roses grow in heaven Lord pick a bunch for me. Place them in my Pawpaws arm and tell him they’re from me. Tell him that I love and miss him And when he turns to smile, Place a kiss upon his cheek and hold him there a while. Because remembering him is easy I do it everyday. But there’s a burden in my heart That will never go away.

So maybe we can make a difference. Simply by changing ourselves first. Maybe we can change the world, I wonder.....

There used to be compliments But now there are screams. We used to be so happy But now no light beams. There used to be hands But now there are fists. I’m seeing our love Go through the mist. There used to be love But now there is hate. There used to be us But now it’s too late.

Eighth Grade – Narrative/Essay 56

Emily Williams

First Place Narrative/Essay Eighth Grade

Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

“The Stranger” Little Joey was walking back home from the village where he went to school. It was extremely cold, and Joey’s toes were beginning to go numb inside of his thick elk-skin-boots. The freezing wind felt as if ti was whipping his cheeks. He pulled his scarf up inside his hood and slid it over his nose. Joey pulled his parka

closer to his body and tied the leather strings that his mother had sewn on it the week before. As he was walking, Joey looked at the snow covered ground. There was a lake, covered with ice and snow, just off to his left. He thought about the times when he and his friends had gone ice skating on that very lake when the air was warmer and the wind was calmer. But, there was something different about the surface this time. There were ankle-deep footprints in the snow. His curiosity, of course, got the best of him, and he began to follow them. The snow was too deep for him to walk through, so he jumped from one deep foot print to another. He was concentrating on the steps before him instead of on what lay ahead of him. He began to play a little game where he would hop in two footprints and then walk one. Hop two, walk one. Hop two, walk one. He began to do this until it had sort of a rhythm to it. Suddenly, Little Joey let out a scream as he plunged into the icy depths of the water under the ice. He thrashed the water with his arms but it was too cold. Just as his lungs were burning, and loosing consciousness seemed

welcoming, a strong arm from above the ice reached in and grabbed the hood of his parka, jerking him out of the water. Just before Joey passed out, he caught a glimpse of his rescuer’s face. It was rough and weathered. The stranger had an unevenly shaven beard, a scar running down his face, and piercing blue eyes. Then, everything went black. When he awoke, Joey was in bed at home. His mother rushed to his side. Later that evening, she told him that a stranger had brought him home. The stranger had not said a word; he just silently gave Joey to her and left. Though Joey never laid eyes on the stranger again, he knew that he would never forget that rugged face of the man who saved him. “And as legend goes, your Great-Great Grandfather never did.” Grandmother looked straight ahead and continued to rock in her chair. “Oh, please, Grammy! Tell another story!” “Not tonight, child. You must sleep for now. For tomorrow will be a new day, and with a new day comes a new story. Goodnight, my child, sleep tight.”

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NORTHEAST MISSISSIPPI DAILY JOURNAL

2011 YOUTH CELEBRATION OF WRITING CONTEST

NORTHEAST MISSISSIPPI DAILY JOURNAL

Eighth Grade – Narrative/Essay 57 No Photo Available

Lauren Hicks

Second Place Narrative/Essay Eighth Grade Mooreville Middle School

“The Chasing” The monstrous groan awakened me from my sleep. I peeked out of my window and saw a four-legged beast

Eliza Barrow

Third Place Narrative/Essay Eighth Grade

Tupelo Middle School

“Believing” I wake up to the sound of gunshots in the middle of the night. I jump out of bed and try to wake up Hosea. He didn’t move and inch the first few times I tried to wake him. After about the fifth time, though, he finally turned over and looked at me. He exclaimed, “Are you crazy? It’s the middle of the night!” “I know,” I say, “but did you hear those gunshots?” “Yes, I did but for now just go back to bed.” Finally, I get up for a second time and throw on my blue shirt and black slacks, my school

standing in my yard. I immediately called my dad to ask what to do. He told me to face my fear of cows and get it back in the pasture. Chills ran up my spine as I stumbled outside barefoot and opened the gate. As I went to chase the cow through the gate, it decided to chase me! I ran all the way around my house screaming in terror as that mad heifer was getting the pleasure out of watching me squeal. Then, I finally out ran the cow. When I slowed down, I slipped and fell in the slick grass and couldn’t get up. I turned around to see the irritated cow running straight for me! I tried to get up and slipped right back down! What was I to do? The only thing I could do was tuck my head in my knees and pray it didn’t hurt me. I let out a yelp and watched it brush past me. The next thing I knew the frustrated cow had run into the road. A tall, scary man pulled in my driveway and hollered, “Girl, get your cow

out of the road! I almost hit it with my van!” Before I could respond, he jumped in his car and sped off. The cow was in the neighbor’s yard before I knew it, so desperately I called my 80 year old Grandmother for help. While anxiously waiting for her help, the cow trotted in the road and up my driveway. As my Grandmother’s car pulled in the driveway, the cow shot through the gate like a bullet from a gun. With relief, the battle was over!

uniform. I slip quietly out of the house because no one else is up yet. You see, I live in a three bedroom apartment with eleven other people. My aunt and uncle take care of me along with nine of my cousins, and they honestly could not care less whether I went to school or not. But I had to go to school. It was my only way out of the ghetto. Demetrius stops me as I exit the building. He says, “Tori, why you going to school if you ain’t got to?” I just ignore him and keep walking. When I get to school, I walk in the classroom and take my seat. Almost all of my classmates are crying. I look to my right and realize that Cedric is missing. I asked my teacher where he was, and he responded by saying that he had been shot last night. I stood there dumbfounded for a moment. This couldn’t be possible. Cedric was my childhood best friend. We had gone through everything together it seemed like. I was devastated. I leave school immediately. I run as fast as my legs will carry me to Cedric’s house. His mom answers and she holds the door open for me to enter. We stay there the rest of the day and cry together. We sit and remember all the good times we had with Cedric and what we would miss the most about him. I said that I would miss his smile and laugh the most. I left late evening.

That incident was another motivator to get myself to a better place. One day, a well educated looking man paid a visit to our apartment. He said he would like to speak to me privately. We step outside and he tells me that he is with an organization that moves inner city kids living in the ghetto to the outer city in hope to live a better life. He told me that I had been one of the few chosen to move. I was beyond grateful. I knew my prayers had been answered, and that, actually, God was looking out for me. I went inside, told my aunt and uncle I was leaving. And without looking back, I stepped outside for the first time feeling as free as a bird. Now, I wake up in my dorm room in a sleepy suburb just outside of the city. I look over at my room mate, Ramuel, and come to find out he is still asleep. I get out of bed and put on some faded wrinkly jeans and a polo. I grab some breakfast and walk outside to catch the bus to school. My new school is hard, but when the going gets tough, I remember where I came from, where I am now, and where I can be. I understand that my future is very bright and I can accomplish anything I set my heart to. If there’s a will, there’s a way.

Ninth Grade – Poetry 59

Katherine Huang

First Place - Poetry Ninth Grade Tupelo High School

Rain showers down upon my head, Dripping, trickling down my cheeks. The wind whistles and whips my damp hair, I’m running, racing, heart thumping. People fear the tidings of storms, But me, oh no no no. A storm is a beautiful thing in my eyes, that drives my adrenaline’s craving.

“A Storm is Brewing”

I would run through the biggest storm, and come out with a smile at the end. I’d feel my pulse flowing through my veins thump, thump, thump.

Lightning crashes and thunder roars, But I keep on sprinting. Through puddles, mud, streams, and rain, I’m running, racing, heart pumping.

Nature’s creations at its best, Are those of lonely storms. I hear a storm brewing in the distance, But I’m already running, racing, heart pumping.

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Ninth Grade – Poetry As they were leaving, I lovingly peered their way. Tzipora’s little red coat - A sight still vivid in my mind today.

Jimmy Stone

Second Place Poetry Ninth Grade

Tupelo High School

“The Arrival” We were hauled out of our mobile prison cells with a yank; our ghostly bodies - sick, hungry, and extremely lank. Together we huddled and a few of us wept; “I will be with you always.” - A promise that wasn’t kept. Hand in hand we marched toward the uncertainty that ahead of us loomed. Though we didn’t speak it, we all knew: We were doomed. Through the rows of machine gun wielding guards we trudged, until we came to a long line of fellow Jews waiting to be judged. “Men to the left! Women to the right!” A command that forced my mother and sisters out of sight.

Jimmy, we are so proud of you. Love, Mama, Daddy, Ann Douglas, and Katherine

Kennedy Shock

Third Place - Poetry Ninth Grade Tupelo High School

“I’m Alive” I’m alive. Though, maybe not for much longer... Water is closing in around me. Please tell me I’m dreaming. I was tumbling down the waterfall, head first into the water. That was the last thing I could see.

Now I’m cold. I’m sinking. I’m swirling. I think I’m dying. God, please save me. The water is holding me down. What do I do? Get me out of this freezing water! Someone! Anyone! I try to kick and free myself. But my enemy won’t give up this game. He’s trying to destroy me. His arms are around me. He’s strangling me. I’m fighting for my life. I feel my brother’s leg!! Maybe he’ll help me win!! I’m still struggling with the current. Addison, help me fight!! Oh, no, I can’t fight. I’m caught on something. The water will surely kill me now. Or...maybe not. Suddenly, I stop twisting. I feel something grab hold of my waist. What’s going on?? Some force is pulling on me. I can’t feel Addison’s leg anymore. I can’t feel anything. I’m being lifted. My eyes are wide open as my head emerges from the evil water. I’m free. Air surged into my lungs. I started to sob. Addison saved me. I’m alive.

Ninth Grade – Narrative/Essay 62

Ann Clark Luckett

First Place Narrative/Essay Ninth Grade

Tupelo High School

“My Maxcy- An Unexpected Life Lesson” She ruled our backyard like the Grand Dame she is from the top of our patio table. The registered lab and golden retriever answered her every command without question. You would have thought she weighed one hundred pounds and came from the most regal of backgrounds. You would be wrong. Maxine, Maxcy for short, is part coon dog and too many other mixtures to comprehend. She came from the dog pound when I was five years old and was my first real lesson in responsibility. For Christmas that year I asked for a dog of my very own - a small black one that I could take for walks. There was much discussion, and my dad made a lot of suggestions - another lab, another Dalmatian, and on and on but none of them were SMALL black dogs a petite five year old could walk. My mother had the deciding vote, and she chose getting a small black dog from the pound. My parents visited the pound in late November, and my mother picked out a cute, short-haired little dog with long, thin legs. They left with her that day, forgetting that they would have to board her until Christmas. Needless to say, that pound puppy cost more than any registered dog we have ever had.

However, on Christmas morning, it was love at first sight for me. She was so sweet, and her brown bow tie and stocking feet fascinated me. So what if she had this tendency to howl like she was on the hunt. We named her Maxine because we could imagine her with a beehive hairdo, smoking a cigarette, as she waited tables at a local diner. My excitement was high but soon reality set in as mom and dad sat me down to explain that Maxcy was now my responsibility. Just as they took care of me, I now had to take care of Maxcy on my own. It was their responsibility to have the things I needed at the house, but I had to feed, water, and play with her every day. For the first few weeks, she lived inside. I had a schedule for feeding and taking her outside to go to the bathroom ( my mom hated it if I was too late, and she had an accident). My commitment was really tested New Year’s Eve when it snowed those bathroom trips every few hours got long and cold. As the weather warmed up, Maxcy moved outside with our other dogs. And so began her reign. It began slowly. She first chose the bowl she wanted to eat out of. Then she chose the top of the patio table as her thrown. From there she reminded me when it was time to feed her, when she wanted me to come out and play, and when it was time to walk around the neighborhood. Although the scope of my day to day responsibilities had changed from when she lived inside, my new responsibilities were just as necessary and important. Maxcy’s personality grew and changed just as mine was changing. Most days she was the dainty queen sitting with her paws regally crossed on her “throne” just as most days I was the responsible child that took care of her. I had my moments as well when I had more important things to do. My dad was always there to bail me out but I did hate the lecture that followed. It went something like this, “Ann Clark, you wanted this dog, so now you have to take care of it. In life, responsibilities never go away - they change, get

larger at times, diminish at times, but they are always there.” Maxcy then developed a TREMENDOUS fear of storms. If there was lightening or thunder in a fifty mile radius, she panicked and would dig out of the back yard. She once disappeared for two days. Luckily, she found her way to my grandparents’ house, and we brought her back home. And again my responsibility changed. I had to be more aware of the weather and make sure either I got her inside or got a message to my parents to go home and put her up. Maxcy’s life continued to change as our other pets changed, and my life changed as I grew older and my interests and school commitments grew. I still had MOST of the responsibilities for Maxcy, but my dad helped more so that I could get everything done. Last May, my brother, who is in college, sent his two dogs home as his new rental house didn’t allow pets. Maxcy, at almost ten years old, still ruled the yard, but cataracts, along with three other big dogs that were overwhelming, didn’t allow me much interaction with Maxcy when I went into the backyard. We made the decision to send Maxcy to live with my grandparents. She loves being there, but I miss seeing her every day. But again, my responsibilities changed - now my responsibility was to make the best decision for Maxcy. I see her as often as possible, but it is not the same. I think back to that first “responsibility” speech and the lectures I got when I didn’t do what I was supposed to do everything my parents said about responsibility was true. Looking back, who would have ever thought that my funny looking, sweet Maxcy who ruled our back yard would help me learn so much about responsibility over the last ten years. I hope I am able to teach my children such an important lesson in such a wonderful way.

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NORTHEAST MISSISSIPPI DAILY JOURNAL

2011 YOUTH CELEBRATION OF WRITING CONTEST

NORTHEAST MISSISSIPPI DAILY JOURNAL

Ninth Grade – Narrative/Essay 63

Kennedy Shock

Second Place Narrative/Essay Ninth Grade

Tupelo High School

“First Date” I never knew my heart could beat so fast. My palms were sweating, and I thought I was going to have a panic attack as I stood in my bathroom staring in the mirror at a fourteen year old girl, scared to death, about to go on her first date...ever. Yeah, I’d been looking forward to this day for a long, long time - I was the kid always daydreaming of relationships, prince charming, and all that - but I was nowhere near ready to actually go out on a date. That wasn’t good, considering Travis was supposed to be at my house in approximately eighteen minutes. I was terrified. For the next fifteen minutes, I prayed asking God to somehow get me out of going. I knew I’d mess everything up and act stupid. How could I not? I was about to go with Travis Alexander, a fifteen year old boy with golden blonde hair and gorgeous blue eyes, a driver’s license, his own truck, and MUCH better social skills than I had. Knowing I was about to go on the first date of my life, I’d never been more nervous in my life. Then, he walked in the door. When I saw Travis for the first time that night, my stomach dropped and my heart skipped a beat. Despite wanting to run back inside my house with my dad and little brother, I walked with him to his bright blue truck with camouflage seats and the smell of the Alexander boys lingering inside. Once inside the truck, he pulled out of my driveway attempting to make conversation, but with my shyness, didn’t get very far with that plan. An awkward silence followed. Travis decided listening

Dustin Otto

Third Place Narrative/Essay Ninth Grade

Mooreville High School

“My First Deer” What is the most exciting thing that has ever happened to you? Mine is when I killed my first deer. It was a misty day in the month of October. When the deer came out, it happened really, really fast. I was asleep, so Dad had to wake me. It was almost dark, and it was beginning to rain. We had limited time to get my ready, aim at him, and shoot him. This was my first deer, so I was shaking like a leaf when the wind blows one hundred miles an hour. I was only ten years old, so I was not the best at being still or quiet. This was the first day of youth hunt. We had been hunting early in the same morning. We did not see any-

to music could fix that problem, and I’ll never forget the look on his face when the realization of the song he played finally hit me - “I Wanna Dance with Somebody” by Whitney Houston, our favorite song to jam to at the time. His face lit up when I giggled at his song choice. With perfect timing, coming to the close of the song, we pulled into Mi Pueblo, the only real “restaurant” in Campbell, Mississippi, otherwise known as the smallest town ever. Throughout our meal, a series of random, crazy, weird, interesting questions were asked and discussed as we learned more about each other. A few times during quiet pauses in our interrogations, I thought to myself how amazing it was that I was actually on a “date” with Travis - the guy I’d been crazy about for months. I still wonder what he was thinking in those quiet moments. There seemed to be way too many of them. The worst one was probably following our meal at Mi Pueblo when we went to Sonic to get dessert. I remember waiting for what felt like an eternity to get our slushes. We sat in his truck, not holding any sort of conversation for about fifteen minutes, only asking a few pointless questions that randomly came to mind. I was relieved when I finally saw the woman coming out the door with our order, which meant we were going back to my house where there’d be more people to talk to, and I’d be more comfortable. When we actually got to my house... it was a whole different story. We pulled into my carport, and I realized there were no cars in the garage. I had no idea where my family had gone, but I was very unhappy about learning that new fact. As I unwillingly turned the key to unlock the door and take Travis into my empty house, I was freaking out inside. I am not a very entertaining person, so I had no plans on what we were going to do until Daddy and Cam got home. That worried me intensely at the time. Somehow, ironically enough, we ended up watching 50 First Dates and Food Network and eventually making s’mores in the microwave. Sometime in the mix of all that, Cam and my dad got home. So, Cam joined Travis and me as we sat on the couch watching cooking shows on T.V. As we sat there, Travis randomly picked up my hand and started playing with my rings. Then, he did the same with the other hand. A few seconds passed, and he just let our hands fall. He twined our fingers together. I thought my insides would burst.

My heart was in my throat; I couldn’t even talk! When he locked our fingers together, we made eye contact. I felt my cheeks grow hot, but all I could do was smile. Travis turned red and smiled back. We’d been sitting watching T.V., still holding hands, for about twenty minutes when my dad walked into the room to get on the computer. That had to have been one of the most awkward experiences of my life. Despite the discomfort of the situation, Travis did not let go of my hand. We then started a conversation in my drafts on my phone. We were discussing many random topics: the awkwardness of the situation with my father sitting in the room, our greatest fears, etc. As I was typing a response to his last text, I received a message from Robbie, Travis’s older brother and my best friend, telling Travis he was supposed to be home by 10:00. At the time of the text, it was about 10:38. A jolt of sadness shot through me when I read Robbie’s message. I unwillingly showed Travis the text and felt him give my hand a gently squeeze before he stood up and began walking to the door. I sluggishly followed him out, silently dragging my feet across the living room carpet. When we reached the door, Travis turned to me and said, “Well...that was fun. Next time we’ll have to go to Tupelo; there isn’t much else to do in Campbell besides eat.” My heart leaped when he said that. So, there would be a “next time.” I responded to him simply with a nod and a smile. He then proceeded to give me a hug that actually wasn’t much of a hug at all. it was a onearm half-hug, but after the roller coaster of emotions I’d been through that night, I could live with the half-hug. Afterwards, he said goodbye and walked out the door. I got in bed that night with so many thoughts racing around in my head. It was a bit overwhelming. I was amazed by the fact that I’d actually made it through my first date. I was baffled at how drastically my mood changed over the course of the night. I went from not wanting to go out all because of nerves, to wishing Travis would never leave my house at the end of the night. I smiled yet again, as I replayed every little detail in my head. After a few minutes of thought, I was finally able to close my eyes with a sense of peace. All the excitement and nervousness and butterflies from the night finally left me alone, and I was calm and hopeful as I drifted to sleep that night.

thing in the morning. That evening we sat in a different spot. We sat in a shooting house my uncle and I had built. It had a green field in front of the shooting house. The green field was about two hundred yards long and eighty yards wide. The deer would be more attracted to this area, because they had something to eat. When it started to mist, I dosed off in my dad’s lap. I was sleeping pretty good to be sleeping in a deer stand. My dad tapped me on the head and said, “Get up, there is a deer.” I jumped up quick, not thinking about scaring the deer. The deer looked and began running down the green field. Dad whistled to make him stop. The deer stopped and began walking back toward where he came from. By this time, I was shaking like a rattlesnake rattles when he is mad. Dad put a shell in my single shot Rossi .243 caliber rifle. It was a youth model, so I could handle it a little bit better. The deer was headed toward the corn feeder way down at the other end of the green field. I knew I was not capable of making a two hundred yard shot. Dad whistled again, and the deer stopped. The deer was looking around curiously. I pulled the hammer back and put the crosshairs right behind the front shoulder. I was trying to make a good shot straight through the heart. I got steady and pulled the trigger. I saw a bunch of white through my scope. He dropped. I had done it. I had killed my first deer. When I got to the deer, it was a five point buck. I start-

ed jumping around and shouting. We put him in the truck and went to my granddad’s house. My granddad was very proud of me. When we skinned him, I got blood on my face and everything. If you have not ever killed a deer, I think you need to try it. It makes you feel like you just rode a roller coaster without the fear of heights. That was the most exciting moment of my life.

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2011 YOUTH CELEBRATION OF WRITING CONTEST

THURSDAY, MAY 5, 2011 ■ PAGE 21E

Tenth Grade – Poetry 65

Katherine Morrow

First Place - Poetry Tenth Grade

Saltillo High School

“I Am Myself”

Andrew Easterling Second Place Poetry Tenth Grade

Saltillo High School

“Pouring Rain”

I am merely myself. I am confident, yet somehow leery about my decisions. I am the girl who tries desperately to give more than I have. I am blissful in my appearance, but distraught in my mind. I am the person who experiences insomnia over minuscule issues. I am worrisome, even though I am strong in my belief that storms result in rainbows. I am frightened or distressed, however, reluctant to admit it vocally. I am constantly finding complexities in the most effortless tasks. I am what no one would possibly ever anticipate. I am myself.

The painful waves of sorrow still crash throughout my veins. the cause of it, the both of you, but she’s the one I blame. I really was in love with her, more than I could say, and memories still haunt my mind with each new passing day. No different from the others, that day was like them all. I had just walked out of class when I saw her in the hall. There he was beside her, my friend since long ago. They were deep in conversation, of what I still don’t know.

He stroked her face so softly with just his fingertips then he bent his head down towards her and gently kissed her lips. The next thing that I knew, he was up against the wall, my fist was coming back, and he’d begun to fall. The next thing that she did, well it hurt me even more. I watched her as she knelt down beside him on the floor. She turned her face back towards me and looked into my eyes. “Go, just go,” she said as she began to cry. The part that hurt the most that day was not the kiss or fight, no, it was her tearstained face that haunts me every night. Late that night, when I got home, my heart came crashing down. it just could not believe it had lost what it had found. For now my joy and love are both a sea of pain. my love and tears come running down just like the pouring rain.

And that is when it happened, the thing that changed my life, the actions of the two of them that filled my heart with strife.

Jenny Kate Smith

Third Place - Poetry Tenth Grade

Saltillo High School

“I Am Mississippi” I am a modern-day Southern belle, unintentionally adding several syllables to every word with a classic Southern drawl. I am celebrating the King of Rock and Roll in his hometown at the Elvis Presley Festival on a sweltering July night. I am a pageant girl in a sparkly pink dress quickly transformed to wallowing in the mud in an old Tshirt. I am part of the football season magic in a sea of finely decorated and catered blue and red tents and dedicated Rebel fans in khakis, bow ties, heels, and pearls that is The Grove in Oxford on game day.

I am riding in the truck down the Natchez Trace on a sunny afternoon with the windows down and the radio blaring country music. A member of the Bible Belt, I am ever-trusting in my faithful Lord Jesus. A victim of the unpredictable Mississippi weather, I am never storing away seasonal clothes. I am a football fanatic, never missing a Friday night football game, all-important in a Southern small town. I am never ceasing to believe in the potential of dreams as the granddaughter of a politician raised in a family of sharecroppers. I am rarely out on the town without finding an old friend to catch up with in a place where everybody knows everybody. I am a tried and true Ole Miss fan, humming along to “From Dixie With Love,” waving my red and blue pom-pom, and reciting the words to “Hotty Toddy” on cue. I am always captivated by the astounding beauty of a field of cotton. A child raised to always be kind, smile, and give the one-finger-wave to passing cars, I am a firm believer in the importance of Southern hospitality. I am the holder of a jar full of lightning bugs, caught on a late-night walk during the summer. I am the inheritor of the knowledge of my grandmother and mother in the kitchen, learning how to cook the most essential Southern foods.

I am a consumer of massive amounts of sweet tea from the concession stand at a perfect weather baseball game in early spring. I am a shoe fanatic, laughing at the assumption that “shoes aren’t worn down here.” Always rooting for Miss Mississippi in the Miss America pageant from the home-state of four past winners, I am Mississippi. I am the holder of childhood memories of climbing and swinging from beautiful, massive magnolia trees. I am an avid user of “de-frizz and anti-humidity” shampoo in the state where the summer days are filled with high percentages of humidity as well as heat. I am a fisherman with a pole, hook, and worms ready to relax and make a catch in the lake at Tombigbee State Park. Where good food is always fitting for the occasion be it a birthday, funeral, baptism, or even just Sunday lunch, I am Mississippi. I am Mississippi, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.

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NORTHEAST MISSISSIPPI DAILY JOURNAL

2011 YOUTH CELEBRATION OF WRITING CONTEST

NORTHEAST MISSISSIPPI DAILY JOURNAL

Tenth Grade – Narrative/Essay 68

Krystal Cook

First Place Narrative/Essay Tenth Grade

Saltillo High School

“Welcome to Mississippi” We turn down another twisted country road, looking vaguely similar to the last three country roads we’ve been down. The pavement turns and twists as if the person who paved it had been inebriated. The fields are all beginning to look the same, and the sun is starting to come up when I see something moving towards us in the opposite lane. At first just a small green dot, but then as we get closer, it becomes clearer. It’s a kid on a...No. No, it can’t be. My first thought: Oh my gosh, they all ride their tractors to school. I tell my mother we need to go home. We need to turn around, and we need to go home. I’m blatantly ignored. We’re in Mississippi. M- I- crooked letter- crooked letter- I- crooked letter- crooked letter- I- humpbackhumpback- I. We are here, and we are not going back. Goodbye snow, goodbye school, goodbye shoes. I sigh and sink back into my seat as we pass another mile marker.

69 No Photo Available

Jacqueline Willis

Second Place Narrative/Essay Tenth Grade

Saltillo High School

“Breaking” Lust rushed down the hallway, running over smaller and slower patrons, as he tried to prevent himself from being late. His superior would murder him. He slowed to a crawl as he rounded the corner and spotted his superior’s secretary. “Lust?” the small woman asked as she noticed the panting, tired blonde. “Y-yes, ma’am,” Lust swallowed nervously. “Hmm, blue eyes, blonde hair, small stature,” she checked a chart on her clipboard. “He’s ready for you...don’t do anything stupid,” the woman spoke coldly to him as she gestured towards the large onyx door behind her. “Yes, m-ma’am,” Lust stuttered as he began to push the door open. It swung open easily despite its size. Lust walked into the room, and the air inside was quite warm and somewhat welcoming. However, the appearance of the room was of a courtroom...from Hell. Rows of dark brown, near black, stone benches with red silk seats lined both sides of the room. The walls, covered in fiery curtains, complimented them by being an equally dark but different mineral. In the corners of the room were large braziers containing great fires that seemed to change color. But a piece of furniture that

It’s been almost twelve hours and my hair is sticking to the back of my neck. The humid weather makes me feel sluggish and gross. Just as I’m about to ask for a rest stop, my mother pipes up to tell us we’re there. We turn down onto an unpaved drive and park. Any other time I would be ecstatic to see the small ducks in the pond or the moaning goats munching on grass, but not now. This wasn’t just a visit, this wasn’t as if we were going to the zoo. We were here for good. This state was home now. I grab my backpack and go inside. I hug my grandparents, then quickly make my way back to the bathroom for a shower. Tomorrow is what I’ve truly been dreading most- school. As I shampoo my hair, I let my mind wander to thoughts of all the things I’ll miss. When I’m done, I crawl into bed. I wake up to the sound of my mother’s voice, but when I look around, I’m not in my room, and this isn’t my bed. Then realization hits me. I’m in Mississippi. I want to crawl back under the sheets. I turn down breakfast and walk down the drive to wait for the bus; I could no longer walk to school just around the corner. Here, the blocks were not square, and there were no sidewalks. Soon enough, the giant yellow vehicle came, and I quietly got on, assuming a seat towards the front. No one speaks to me, and I am grateful. When we arrive, I’m slightly surprised to find that everything here looks relatively normal. There are no donkeys in the cafeteria, and nobody is dressed in overalls. I’m directed to my class which, as everything else, is still relatively normal. I sigh and prepare myself to again be “the new girl.”

The day is slow and filled with scattered requests to say things as pen or pan or roof, and laughter at the words pop or you guys. But besides that, I’m frustrated to admit that the people here are actually rather wellbehaved, and, well, nice. I’m walked to all my classes, and people I’ve never seen smile and wave. I want to hate it here, but it’s difficult. It doesn’t take long, maybe just a few weeks, but this place changes me. I begin to fit in more, not all the way, but more, and I realize that Mississippi isn’t completely terrible. I was just so stubborn, I wanted to believe it was. The lingo isn’t too hard to understand, and in no time, I can translate their strange way of speaking. The slowness and extra amount of syllables added to words no longer throws me off. I begin to make friends and learn names (everyone already knows mine). Eventually, I stop being a drama queen, and quit my pouting because, well, it really isn’t that bad here. The weather is always warm and beautiful. The air always smells like summertime: a mix of charcoal, pine, and fresh cut grass. The people always wave wherever they see me, whether I am walking down the street, or driving past them. There is a Walmart, and people don’t really have pot -bellied pigs as house pets. I can’t even lie, I love it here. I complain about the heat. I complain about the constant use of y’alls and ain’ts. I complain about the way they fry everything they cook. But I can’t help it, it’s my guilty pleasure. The longer I’m here, the more I fall in love. The cute accents of the citizens and the kindness they all show has captured my heart. To be completely honest, I don’t know if I’ll ever leave.

caused all these pieces to pale in comparison was the large foreboding black desk on the other side of the room, behind which sat Lust’s superior. Lust slowly walked to the other side of the room, watching his feet to keep from slipping on the red carpet that lay from the door to the desk. He stood silently in front of the desk with his head bowed. He waited patiently for the man behind the desk to notice him and begin the ceremony he had promised. The man looked up from the papers he had been reading. “Lust...Good to see you finally took me seriously,” the man chuckled darkly. “Y-yes sire,” Lust kept his head down refusing to make eye contact with the man. “Hmmm, what are we doing again?” the man’s voice rang out like a comforting song despite how chilling the words were meant to be. “...I’m not sure sir,” Lust spoke quietly but audibly. “That won’t do, will it? Also, I have a name. You should call me by it. I would find it much more respectable than ‘sir’ or ‘sire.’” “Yes si -er I mean Pride,” Lust stumbled through his words. “Hmm, you’re going on a mission. You’re the very first.” Pride’s words came out smoothly, perfectly. “You need a name.” “A-a name? But sire, I have a name!” Lust raised his head and stared at the man. “A name that humans will learn to fear.” Pride began to shuffle through the papers on his desk, “Aah, here we are... Lust, you will be known as Belial. You will take on the form of the ‘fabled’ Jackalope.” Pride gave a look of annoyance and cursed the humans under his breath, “Rare my foot....” Lust simply stared at the man, “B-but sir-” “And,” Pride continued unfazed by the interruption. “You must learn to be as your sin states. A being after nothing more than pleasure. I’m sure you can manage that at least.”

“Y-yes si-Pride...” Lust bowed his head and began to turn around and leave. “Belial...” Pride raised an eyebrow and reached for a rolled-up paper tied with a red ribbon lying on his desk. “S-sire?” “Take this. Your mission will be in the area marked. My ‘secretary’ will give you something else to complete your ‘training.’” Lust nodded and took the map before walking out the door. Pride waited a few minutes; it wouldn’t take long for his “secretary” to give the drugs prescribed to Lust. That boy would learn to love needles after his so called “mission.” “...Greed?!” Pride spoke loudly in the direction of the door. “Yes sir?” The small woman who worked as his “secretary” walked in. “How long will he last?” “Not very long, he’s broken enough as is. Becoming more like his sin will just take it all the way...Don’t you wonder what name I gave him?” Pride asked, curious of how well his great work would be taken. “Yes sir.” “Belial. And the meaning?” “...Worthless?” Greed felt somewhat uneasy. “Quite. It’s rather befitting, isn’t it?” Pride laughed as he reached for a goblet on the far corner of his desk. The liquid left a blood-red stain on his lips. “Now...we need to prepare the others. Where is Envy?” Pride put the goblet back down, folded his hands, and leaned over his desk. “I assume she’s staring through her mirror watching Kindness, sir,” Greed spoke calmly, despite knowing what Pride may be considering. “I request her presence. She’s next...I don’t care who we have to sacrifice. I will not lose this war.”

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PAGE 22E ■ THURSDAY, MAY 5, 2011

2011 YOUTH CELEBRATION OF WRITING CONTEST

THURSDAY, MAY 5, 2011 ■ PAGE 23E

Tenth Grade – Narrative/Essay 70

Justin Park

Third Place Narrative/Essay Tenth Grade

Saltillo High School

“A New Yorker’s Narrative” She was walking down the street of downtown Brooklyn. I was already September, but it was still hot and moist. It was dark and creepy. There were lots of homeless people who were staring at her while she walked. She walked fast. She was scared but she had to go some place that she really had to and wanted to go. It was a dress shop. It was closed, but she still could see some dresses through the window. That was the only moment that she was happy. She imagines her shape with that dress, but the reality was different. Her family was so poor. She lost her dad when she was a one-year-old, and her mom was a house cleaner. She worked in New York City, and she had to work full-time. So the girl could not really see her mom anymore. She remembers her friend’s dress. They already bought the dress and uploaded the pictures on Facebook. She asked her mom to rent a dress for a month. But her mom couldn’t buy it for her, or course. She just hated her mom. She had to walk away from that store. Every time she went to the dress store to see her favorite dress, her desire was getting bigger and bigger. She walked a few more blocks and arrived at her house.

Of course, there was nothing except for the humid air. She was hungry so she went to the refrigerator and found her mom’s note. “I bought some dinner for you. And I think I’ll be late again tonight. I’m sorry. Love, Mama.” There was McDonald’s in the microwave. After supper, she lay down on the bed and thought about that dress, but it was too far away from her. She looked out the window, and there was the big New York City. New York...the city that never sleeps. She kept staring at the city until midnight. The light was too gorgeous, and the highest building in the world - the World Trade Center - was shiny. Her mom woke her up. It was 4:30 in the morning. She asked her mom why she woke her up so early. She said she had to go back to work, and she wanted to see her daughter. “Mom...I really want that dress.” “Sweetie...I’m...sorry. I wish I could. But, you know we are not doing well these days. Can you please help your mommy?” “Why can’t you? It’s just a dress. Momma! It’s just a dress!!! Do you know how I feel? Everybody’s got a dress. And I don’t! I wish I could talk with my friends about which dress is best and which partner is best! Why can’t I, mom? Why can’t I?” “Sweetie...I can’t help it.” “You know what? Just go away!” “...Okay, then. See you tomorrow...Have a nice day.” “Whatever.” Then her mom left. A few hours later, she rode the school bus to go to school. During class, somebody kept calling her and texting her. It was bothering her, so she just ignored it and turned the phone off. A few minutes later, the school intercom informed students that there were terrorist attacks in New York City; all stu-

dents must go back to their homes. She went home early and turned the television on to see what was going on. Two airplanes crashed into the World Trade Centers. While she was watching the news, she checked her voicemails and texts. They were all from her mom. First Voicemail: Received September 11. “Sweetie, this is mommy. I’m so sorry about what I did. So I just bought the dress that you like. See you tonight.” Second Voicemail: “Sweetie, this is mommy again. I don’t think I can bring the dress today...because something happened...and I don’t think I can go back home again. I...just want you to be a strong girl and do your best in life. Okay? Bye.” She dropped her cellphone. She had no idea what to do. There were thousands of people who were missing. And there were thousands of people who died. She kept telling herself that her mom was not connected with this. Then she saw the paper on the kitchen table. It was her mom’s contract with the World Trade Center. She couldn’t believe it. She couldn’t believe what happened to her. She couldn’t believe what she did to her mom that morning. She saw the phone, and there was a text. It said, “I love you, and I’m sorry.” That text and the voicemails were the only things that her mom left for her. She cried and cried and listened to her voicemails. She was already gone. She couldn’t do anything...

Eleventh Grade – Poetry 71

Seth Steed

First Place - Poetry Eleventh Grade

Tupelo High School

“Eyes of an Army Brat” Looking out the window What do I see A different community all so new All so new to me I Am An Army Brat Upon stopping What do I see My new house, my new home About my eleventh house since I knew to breathe I Am An Army Brat

On my way to school I meet new people New faces, but sometimes I just wish moving was simple I Am An Army Brat I move and move Always on the move Change and change Always changing I Am An Army Brat But as I move As I change I learn of Different cultures across the world I Am an Army Brat This life isn’t fair But I wouldn’t trade it Not for the world

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NORTHEAST MISSISSIPPI DAILY JOURNAL

Eleventh Grade – Poetry 72

Matthew Tonos

Second Place Poetry Eleventh Grade

I’ve arrived. Now I can feast on the nuggets. They look delicious. No surprise. I sit down, stare at the crispy nuggets. I crack a smile. I’ve got twelve, so I’ll stay for a while. Bloated stomach after I’m through, I’ve enjoyed my Monday. I hope you have too.

Tupelo High School

“An Ode to Chicken Nugget Monday” Chicken Nugget Monday. The Day after Sunday. It’s always a fun way To enjoy Monday. Standing in the lunch line, Waiting patiently, Chatting with my peers, Thinking of only one thing. That one thing is the nuggets. They’re right in front of me. I can’t eat them now. I have to finish my lunch line journey I’m on the way back to my seat, Hoping I don’t trip over one of my feet.

Abby Grace

Third Place - Poetry Eleventh Grade

Tupelo High School

They promise the moon, but deliver futile waste. Hypocrisy is apparent. World-changers, please make haste. I hope for a tomorrow. I hope for sweet escape. These walls are surrounding me. Their stones are taking shape. Anger arises. I almost succumb to hate. But then I remember: I must stand up straight. It is my responsibility to break down these walls. Why, it is my responsibility to construct more hallowed halls. I will resolve to oppose limits seemingly set in stone. Because when true freedom is achieved, we’ll never feel alone. Hand-in-hand we will walk. We won’t just talk the talk. Without any condition, change will remain our mission. Dreamers of the world, and the complacent ones too, Never let anyone other than yourself define what you can do Climb through your windows. Open your doors. Who knows what the world has in store?

“An Obstacle Recurring” When windows are opened but doors remain shut, Dreams are encouraged, then thwarted by the cruel hand of luck.

Eleventh Grade – Narrative/Essay 74

Dani Fraser

First Place Narrative/Essay Eleventh Grade

Saltillo High School

“0300” “When’s Daddy coming home, mom?” I look at her and smile. “Soon baby girl. Don’t worry. Don’t you have homework?” She grabs her Dora the Explorer backpack and says, “I have to read a story about a monkey who got all his banana’s stolen. I love monkeys. And horses. Do you like horses, mama?” “Of course. Maybe this weekend we can go to Aunt Shirley’s and go ride her horse. Would you like that?” “Yeah! Can I wear my new Dora boots?” Goodness, she looks so much like her dad. “Yes, my dear. Now go upstairs and read about that monkey. I’ll call you down when supper is ready, Lyra.” “Okay!” She runs out of the kitchen. Her strawberry blonde curls are bouncing behind her. I put the macaroni noodles in the pan and begin to boil them. I walk over to the daybed beside the window. Eight years ago, I met Jack. We met at a friend’s party. I didn’t know anyone there and neither did he. So, he introduced himself to me and asked if I wanted to dance. Of course, I said yes. I never knew a man could Salsa like that. After the party, he asked me to dinner. Two years later, we were on our way home from another friend’s housewarming party. He didn’t take me home. He took me out to eat. To the same restaurant. To the same table. Got the same meal. The only difference this time was he got down on one knee and

asked me to marry him. And, of course, I said yes. Six years later, I’m still in love with Jack more than ever, although I haven’t seen him one year, three months, and eighteen days. Jack joined the Army four years ago, after our daughter Lyra’s second birthday. He said he’d always wanted to join, so I accepted it and supported him. I probably should’ve cried and begged him to stay, but it’s where he wanted to be. I love and respect him for that even if it is a difficult path to travel. As I lay there, I notice I’ve been crying. I get up and walk to my bedroom. I look in the mirror and laugh at how pitiful I look. I pick up the picture of Jack at his basic training graduation and softly kiss it. I set it back down on the dresser, clean the mascara smudges off my face, and head back to the kitchen. Lyra comes running in. “Mama, your cellphone is ringing. You might wanna get that!” I picked it up and flipped it open. “Hello?” “Hello darling.” “Jack! Oh, I have missed you so much. How are you?” “I’m fine, baby. How are you and Lyra?” “Great, just reading about banana-stealing monkeys and cooking noodles.” “I miss home a lot more, now. We should get a monkey.” We both laugh. Lyra walks in the kitchen. “Jack, honey, Lyra is her. I’m going to let her talk to you now.” “Alright, I love you.” “I love you, too. Here she is.” I hand my wide-eyed, smiling from ear-to-ear, daughter my phone. “Daddy! Is it really you? Of course it’s you! What are you doing? That sounds boring. I’m reading about monkeys...We should get a monkey...We are having your favorite supper tonight..I don’t want to eat carrots...Fine, you win. I have a question...When are you coming home?...You don’t know?...My birthday is coming up, daddy. I don’t want to spend it without you....Okay, then. I love you, too, daddy. Here’s mama.” She gives me the phone. Her huge smile has faded to a sad expression. “Go finish your story, baby girl,” I say. She walks off, and as she turns to go up the stairs, I notice a tear on her cheek. “Jack, what’s going on?”

“I won’t be coming home.” “Why not? You said they would let you come home.” “Allison, I thought they would let me. They...they are sending me out tomorrow. I don’t know when the next time I will get to talk to you will be.” I knew all too well what this meant. No calls. Constant worry. A fake happiness to strengthen Lyra. I can’t fight it. I shouldn’t ask, but I have to. “What are the chances?” “I don’t know.” We are silent for a moment that seems to last forever. I silently let tears fall. Finally, he breaks the silence. “Allison. Darling, I have to go now. We are loading equipment.” “Okay. Jack , be careful. I love you so much. If something happens ---” “Don’t you dare say goodbye to me now, Allison. I love you, too. but I have to let you go now.” “I love you.” “I love you, too.” “Goodbye, Jack.” “Goodbye, Allison. Tell Lyra I love her.” Click. It is now three months after my last phone call with Jack. Last week, Lyra celebrated her seventh birthday with a party in the back yard and her brand new pony. I hear something and look out the window. There is a black car. A man steps out of the back seat of the car. I can’t move. I can’t breathe. I hear a doorbell ring and never flinch. Lyra answers the door and says the man has nice shoes. “Mama, this man with nice shoes wants to talk to you,” Lyra calls. I find the strength to walk to the door. I kneel by my daughter and see her in my husband’s eyes. “Lyra, baby, go upstairs and play.” I stand up and look at this man as my beautiful Lyra runs up the stairs singing. After a moment, this man who is standing in my doorway speaks the words I never wanted to hear. “I regret to inform you ma’am, but Jack Fargold was killed in a bombing at 0300 on February 19, 2010....”

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Eleventh Grade – Narrative/Essay 75 No Photo Available

Rebekah Pate

Second Place Narrative/Essay Eleventh Grade

Saltillo High School

“Tryouts that Decide Everything” “Okay, here goes nothing” is what was rushing through my head at that very moment. In two steps I would be walking through those doors and be evaluated the second the judges nod. “I’m not so sure I’m ready for this,” I say to a last year cheerleader, Kim. With a reassuring smile, she looks at me. “You’ll be fine! Here touch my lucky bear - he’ll give you good luck!” Oh, gosh. I started freaking out then. Thoughts kept rushing through my head - what if I touch this bear, and it curses me for the rest of my life? I cant’ take the risk of laying a finger on this so called lucky bear and then it hand over bad luck to me for not being its rightful owner.

76 No Photo Available

Stephanie Robinson

Third Place Narrative/Essay Eleventh Grade

Saltillo High School

“Dancing with His Memory” A woman with long black hair dressed in a white daisy-covered sundress lay in the middle of an open field of lilies far away from the modest home her husband and she built. How she got there, she could scarcely remember. The smells and sounds of the field drifted into her senses. Momentary peace washed over her. She closed her eyes and sighed lightly as she let the feeling wrap around her like a blanket. When she opened them once more, his figure loomed over her. A beautiful smile graced his face.

“Uh...no thanks. I think I’ll just make my own luck.” “Come on. I swear it will give you luck!” “Well, okay.” So I had decided on touching the bear? That’s what it looked like. As I was reaching out, I heard, “Number 14!” Oh, no. That’s me. My heart started racing immediately, and all I could hear was thump, thump. Is my heart in my stomach or is that my lunch from thirty minutes ago? No, Rebekah. Focus. As I opened the gym door, my stomach did flips - ones that I would be doing when the judges give me their “Okay, try not to mess this up” nod. As I anxiously walked past the coach, my head started talking again. “Oh, gosh...what is she going to say if I mess up?” It’s too late now. There was the nod, and I thought to myself, “Here goes nothing? Or maybe here goes everything?” Three minutes later, I was crying outside the gym doors. “That was the worst thing of my life!” I said to Kim while she squeezed “Lucky Bear” tightly. “I’m sure it wasn’t that bad.” Yeah, like she had anything to worry about. “Oh, trust me. It was. You know it’s bad when the three judges laugh and say, ‘Freestyle!’” My only thought at the time was “Yeah, it was that bad.” After thirty more minutes of girls trying out and coming out looking either ecstatic or like the joker with mascara running down their faces, it was finally time for the scores to be added up. “There is no way I’m on the squad. I just know it,” I said, tearing up once again.

That’s when Kim’s eyes looked as if they were about to pop out of her head. “Oh, hush! You don’t know if you made it or not, so just sit down with Lucky Bear and you’ll be okay!” “Yes, ma’am,” is all I could think to say, but I didn’t have time to say it right then. The envelopes were about to be passed out saying “Congratulations” or “Thank you for trying out,” which is a polite way of saying, “No, you didn’t make the squad.” My whole body started shaking. “Calm it down, Rebekah! People are going to think you are having seizures!” Kim said quietly enough for only a few people to hear. “Number 14!” shouted one of the coaches. My heart dropped. I walked slowly up to retrieve the envelope, expecting nothing but disappointment. As soon as I grabbed the envelope, I snatched up my bags and ran to the car. Nervously holding the envelope, my mom was shouting in my ear, “Open it! Open it!” Closing my eyes as I ripped it open, I took a deep breath. I open my eyes and see “Congratulations!”

“Hello, love,” he said softly. His voice was as melodious as it was on the first day they’d met. He extended his hand down to her. Slowly, she placed her small hand in his larger one and let him pull her to her feet. They did not bother to move to the dance floor. He simply placed his hand delicately on her waist and guided her into the steps of their first dance. As she stared at him, a breathtaking smile lit her face and touched her light green eyes. A genuine smile spread across her once saddened face; her eyes were still closed. She wrapped her arms lightly around her own waist and imagined that they were his arms instead. She opened her tear-filled eyes and glanced over at her house. She squinted against the summer sun to see a small figure running toward her. “Momma!” The little boy called, a huge smile on his face and a hand waving frantically in the air as he ran in her direction. She smiled and rose to her feet as the life that they’d made came to a stop before her. “What is it, sweetie?” She questioned as she smoothed her son’s dark brown hair out of his blue eyes. He smiled crookedly at her. A habit, she quietly reminded herself, that he had gotten from his father. “We’re still going to the cookout at the Meyers, right?” Her eyes widened as the boy’s grin deepened. “You forgot, didn’t you?”

“I am so sorry, Kev! I completely forgot!” Kev laughed and shook his head lightly at his mother as he attempted to hide the sadness inside. For his mother had been “forgetting” and staring off for long hours often since his father’s death. “It’s alright, Mama, but we’ve got to leave now. It’s three. The cookout starts at four-thirty.” She smiled at him and took his small hand in hers. “I love you, sweetie,” she told him A blush spread on his face. “Aww, mom!” He whined. He let go of her hand and began to run in the direction of the car. “I love you, too!” He yelled back. She laughed lightly, but despite her son’s warnings, she found herself looking back into the field. Once more, he stood in his tuxedo like he had on their wedding night. He cast her a small wave before disappearing with the wind and back into her memory. As the wind blew past her, lifting the ends of her hair, she could have sworn she heard him whisper, “I love you forever,” just once more.

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2011 YOUTH CELEBRATION OF WRITING CONTEST

NORTHEAST MISSISSIPPI DAILY JOURNAL

2011 YOUTH CELEBRATION OF WRITING CONTEST

NORTHEAST MISSISSIPPI DAILY JOURNAL

Twelfth Grade – Poetry 77

A. J. Stewart

First Place - Poetry Twelfth Grade Tupelo High School

“I Found Her on the Mountain Trail” I never have to wonder what she’s thinking I never have to know “just what to say” But my soul weeps for our next meeting She keeps me coming back How I wish I could stay Maybe it’s the way the sunlight glistens on her face Or maybe it’s the way she melts my thoughts away She keeps me, oh she keeps me, coming back From the cold winter nights of December To the flowery blooms of May Oh, and what thoughts Thoughts of triumph, Thoughts of defeat Thoughts that penetrate my mind when I go to sleep When I’m with her, they cannot injure me! Oh, what thoughts Thoughts of my return to reality

Oh, my lady, keep me for one more hour Let me stay, let me be free! She is a song A beautiful sonnet Whistling through the trees As effortlessly as the wind itself Oh, she is a song The twang of a mandolin Taking you far, where you’ve never been A place where Earth and sky will meet again... Right on the horizon She is my hard place She is the rock She stands with her face, overpowering my own She is unconquerable! She doesn’t care how I dress Or the way I wear my hair Because she knows there is no contest Between her and all the rest She’s my definition of “blessed” She doesn’t care how long its been Since last we encountered It could be weeks we spend apart Or it could merely be hours All that matters is that I see her Once every now and then To remind her, as well as myself... That she is my guidance, my compass She’s my way back home again.

Tucker Sample

Jenna Lynne Franklin

Second Place Poetry Twelfth Grade

Third Place - Poetry Twelfth Grade Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

“Mine” Beauty radiates from her smile, And joy flows from her skin. Her touch is a sting that sends Chills through my soul. She builds up a spirit, but Could crush all vitality in one's core. She follows my steps, but Leads my heart. Her voice draws me near, And her vibrancy entraps me. I am lost without her direction; I am found by her insight. She is everything one could desire. She is the treasure I just happened to findThe sweetest name in the world, Her name is mine.

“My Solider” See there is this guy I know, With all our happiness the love just glows. With soft brown hair and hazel eyes, He is even taller than me, what a surprise. In his eyes, all I do is get lost. For our strong friendship, I’d take at any cost. But there is also something about the way he walks, But what I love most is our random talks. Anxious, sad, happy, and confused, Though when together, always amused. His arms locked around me, oh just one last kiss. I’d never question waiting for him, there’s just too much to miss. One of a kind, from head to toe, My brave little solider, I’ll never let go. From the security of his arms, to the comfort of his voice,

She stands guard over all that is my domain She is the fork in my road, but she is, the path I take She is the path, that takes me, And I am the one, to take her One day I will be strong enough to conquer her I will be bold enough to reach the top But there’s something in me that bids me stop... For when that day comes When I look up at that overhang That simple rock that means so much to me That rock that is my home That rock, that takes my breath away I will stand in awe of her majesty I’ll wish to grab a hold, to hang freely I want to show her that I am strong enough To climb up, up, up to the top High above her canopy But I’ll simply tip my hat, and bid her farewell For she is not meant to be climbed She is not meant to be conquered She’s simply meant to dwell... I never have to wonder what she’s thinking I never have to know “just what to say” But my soul weeps for our next meeting And she keeps me coming back Right back, to that overhang.

From his mismatched socks, to his unselfish choice. At times I feel as if the word love is an understatement. Looking into each other’s eyes, there’s zero resentment. Please, tell me why did it end up like this, why does he have to go? When I asked him if it would be forever, I’m glad he answered no.

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THURSDAY, MAY 5, 2011 ■ PAGE 27E

Twelfth Grade – Narrative/Essay 80

Austin Sams

First Place Narrative/Essay Twelfth Grade

Tupelo High School

“Superficial Inadequacies” “One sees great things from the valley, only small things from the peak.” ---Chesterton, G. K. Chesterton was a poet and also a journalist. He was always known for his witty writings. To myself I seem to believe that by this quote he meant that a thing that one thinks is a big deal, later on down the road is simply nothing at all. After being enrolled in high school for three and a half years, I can honestly say that one of the hardest things is figuring out and balancing what matters and what doesn't. The ability to weed through social inadequacies and distinguish the superficial is something one can only acquire on your own. It's amazing the energy people will put forth in putting someone down, or figuring out

Catherine Holman

Second Place Narrative/Essay Twelfth Grade

Tupelo High School

“The Force” My summer break had been the best ever-hanging out with friends, going to the beach, and just enough of a paycheck from work to buy whatever I wanted -- Life was good. It was hard to believe it was all coming to an end. I remember waking up thinking, “Ugh, this is my last day of freedom, but at the same time I am so excited to finally become a junior.” Even though I dreaded waking up early, I always looked forward to the first day of school. I loved seeing all my friends that I had missed so much over the summer break. I knew this school year was going to be amazing. It was kind of like my own little fresh start since I was officially halfway through high school. The day before school was to start was an ordinary day just like any other. I woke up, brushed my teeth, ate breakfast and decided to catch another rerun of my favorite television show

who is dating who, or when the next party is. What you don't realize is that there is a world outside of your town. Sadly, our generation has grown ignorant not because of lack of opportunity but rather, a lack of concern. There is a bigger picture, and the scary thing is, our generation is painting it. Our entire lives we've had to adapt to change. Now (and as we grow older) we have the ability to make it. It's ridiculous the amount of gossip and care for other people's business that runs through this world. If there is anything that high school has taught me it's the ability to distinguish temporary situations from long-term ones. I can't speak for everyone, but I can promise you, the things that one considers issues now, most likely wont even cross their mind when they older. (Take note that I said I CAN’T speak for everyone..some people do have rather life changing issues they are facing.) My advice to someone would be, break away from the dramatic scene as soon as possible. Granted, it may be putting that much-awaited popularity at risk; however, thats when you have to step back and think.."what makes me popular?" and "does it really matter?". Perhaps I’m just wired differently than everyone else, but that is okay because I’m comfortable with who I am and what I stand for. This one piece of wisdom would come from the mind of Charles Swindoll. He states, “Life is 10% what happens to you and 90% how you react

to it.” Every teenager goes through his or her prime dramatic time. Mine would probably be my freshman and sophomore years of High School. A struggle for acceptance, perfect grades, auditions for various teams and dance roles, and social demands can become a full-time job that creates a lot of stress for just one girl. When reading the entire lecture in which this quote was included, I decided that I ought to give this new approach a chance. Soon, I found out that this was not just a simple act, but a whole new perspective on life itself. To make this change, I had to be reminded of the quote constantly. Therefore, I put it everywhere from my mirror in my room to the front of my school binder. Whenever a so-called “mountain” would come in my life, I was shortly reminded of the “mole-hill” that it truly was. After constantly being reminded of this, the positive attitude soon became a new habit. Since following this simple bit of wise words from Swindoll, I have become a less stressed person who takes every battle once at a time and tackles it with a victorious positive attitude. One thing is for sure, I will not let this portrait of our generation be painted without my brush.

Saved by the Bell--what a pointless and silly show about the lives of high school teenagers -- I vividly remember the phone ringing. I was all cuddled up on the couch and was too lazy to get up so my mom went to answer the phone. All I can remember thinking was, “Who in the world would be calling my house this early?” The next thing I heard was my mom crying hysterically. At that moment, I knew something terrible had happened. My dear friend, John Paul Frerer, had been tragically killed in an accident. He was struck by a vehicle while biking to Oxford. He had been looking forward to training for his next triathlon, especially since he had just bought a new toy for his bike that would videotape his ride. I am not really sure how the accident happened, but it didn’t really matter because JP was gone forever. He officially would’ve been a senior. My family took the news very hard. I had known JP my whole life, and he and my older brother were very close. They were both outstanding athletes and had formed a triathlon team together. They called themselves “Team America.” My brother ran, John Paul biked, and their other friend, Hannah, swam. They entered a triathlon as a high school team and won the race by a big margin, beating several teams of college athletes and seasoned triathletes. I was so proud of them and their accomplishment. I’ll never forget the memory of JP’s huge, beautiful smile after the race that day. I had never seen such excitement. John Paul had been such an influential person in my life, as well as, at our school, church, and community. He had been accepted into the

Barksdale Honors College and planned to go to medical school. He was so passionate about life, and his enthusiasm was contagious. It was just unbelievable to think that he was gone so suddenly. All I kept thinking was, “How could this happen to such an amazing person?” Before John Paul’s accident, I never really thought much about my future; I was content to just go with the flow with no real direction. After his death, so sudden and shocking, I reexamined my own life and my future goals. As a senior in high school, it truly put life in perspective. Life isn’t about floating around waiting for whatever comes along. Life is about setting goals and taking advantage of opportunities that it brings you. After John Paul’s death, it really made me want to focus on the important things in my life. I have established life goals and am going to do everything in my power to achieve these goals. John Paul inspired me greatly in both his life and his death. I will strive to live life to the fullest. This tragic event has made me grow stronger in my faith and as a person. I had to find an inner strength within myself that I didn’t know I had. I believe the true force inside of us is our faith in God and love. We draw strength from the knowledge that God is in us and gives us what we need when we need it the most. Faith is believing that death is not the end and that true love never dies.

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Twelfth Grade – Narrative/Essay 82

Tori Smith

Third Place Narrative/Essay Twelfth Grade

Tupelo High School

“Wet Leaves” “A good scare is worth more to a man than good advice.” - Edgar Watson Howe Howe was well-traveled and was known for his wit and famous quotes from his editorials. I firmly believe he knew exactly what he was talking about when he made this statement because I personally experienced a good scare when my sister and I faced a tragic accident in the summer of 2005. The day was August 26, 2005, and the day can still be vividly replayed inside my mind. It was my sister’s birthday, and as usual, the whole family went out to eat as part of the celebration. Brooke Palmer, a close friend, tagged along while we ate and made a quick trip to Scruggs. As I sat on the tractors watching my grandparents price a new lawnmower, I could hear Lane ask Dad if she could take the new four wheeler out for a drive when we got home. Dad’s reply was a stern, “NO.” As an argument arose and Mom started to chime in, he quickly changed his mind, and we were all

eager to get home for a ride. The sun was shining. The wind was gently blowing, and it couldn’t have been a better day. As we arrived home, Dad pulled the four wheeler around, and the excitement inside each of us grew. Lane floored it out of the driveway, as Dad yelled, “Slow down; the leaves are still wet.” I don’t think that Lane was listening at that point. The three of us went speeding through the woods as fast as the new machine would take us, when out of nowhere, those wet leaves Dad was talking about became a huge problem. The tires hit a patch of wet leaves, and we went soaring off the dirt path crashing into a huge oak tree. I was the first to go flying into a nearby stump, breaking my arm instantly and cutting my face above my eye and down my cheeks. Filled with panic and adrenaline, I frantically looked around for the four wheeler, for Brooke, but mainly for my sister. Lane was slammed into the tree almost crushing her, and her leg was jammed into the hard, green plastic. There was blood gushing, and we knew we had to separate her from the four wheeler. When we pulled her away from the tree, we realized just what kind of damage had been done. Lane’s knee cap was completely sliced in two, to an extremity that the bone was revealed. With no cellphones we took the almost two mile hike back to my grandparents’ house. Papaw saw the three of us covered in blood, limping from the wood line, and he came rushing over. He helped us load her into the truck and rushed us all to the emergency room. As he dodged in and out of traffic, blue lights suddenly started flashing, but that didn’t slow him down a bit. It was 9:00 p.m. when we finally checked into the hospital and saw our parents waiting on us. Dad’s expression was not what

we had expected at all. It was of concern and worry, not anger and disappointment as we had assumed. My facial cuts were bandaged up, and my arm was put into a cast within two hours of sitting and waiting. When I came out of the room, my family was nowhere to be found. I was scared, worried, and relieved that the doctor had finally gotten to my sister. Lane had been taken back to surgery, and the fear that she might not make it out of the procedure was probably the worst form of punishment. After several hours and seventy-eight stitches later, she was released, and Mom was helping her into the car. The drive home was the longest drive of my life. The sun was starting to rise. A wicked chill still filled the air, and it all seemed like a horrific dream. If we would have just listened to my father’s advice, then maybe we wouldn’t have had to endure the horrible crash. The scars still remain, and the dirt road path we once rode daily is never taken nor walked on. It is a distant memory but one that changed all our lives. We know that we are lucky to still be here. “A good scare is worth more to a man than good advice,” and I couldn’t agree with Edgar Howe more.

You are a beautiful, hard working young lady and we are proud of you!

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