Green is the fresh pine needles that fall from the trees.
It’s delicious vegetables in the garden.
Green is sour lime juice squeezed from the lime.
It is happiness, kindness, gentleness too.
Its mother is yellow and its father is blue.
Green is old moss on a rock.
Green is bubbling.
We created a model of a rock cycle from starbursts with sedimentary, metamorphic, and igneous rock!
I went to Ecuador to be a missionary to the Quichua Indians. First, I built some houses near a river. During rainy season, the river ate at the side of that bank, and because our house was near the river, it swallowed our house whole!
After my big disappointment, I decided to start over. I proposed to Betty. She said yes to me, and we had a ten minute wedding. After that, Ed and I made the choice to go to Arajuno. There were lots of Quichua Indians there that needed the Gospel.
Nate, Pete, Ed, Roger, and I started Operation Auca. We had heard of the Auca tribe, which really needed the Gospel! They were very vicious.
First, what we five men did for Operation Auca was to drop down gifts from a plane into the Auca territory. Then Nate found a place that the five men could land a plane. We landed the plane safely on a beach. A few days later, three Aucas came to the beach. We called the man George and the teenage girl Delilah. We didn’t nickname the older woman.
After awhile, the Aucas left. The next day some Auca women came. They were not happy like the Aucas that had come the previous day. After the women came men with spears. The men were running straight at Nate, Pete, Roger, Ed, and I!
***Jim Elliot, Nate Saint, Ed McCully, Pete Fleming, and Roger Youderian died from Auca spears being driven into their backs. Those men died on Sunday, January 8th, 1956.
I will tell you how to play Freeze Tag. First, you need to choose a person to be the tagger. Next, the tagger will say, “Start!” and everyone will run away from the tagger. If the tagger tags someone, the person that was tagged has to freeze. Then, the people that were not tagged have to try to tag the frozen person. If that people that have not been tagged tag the person, they will unfreeze. If the tagger tags everyone, then the tagger wins! You can play this game many times.
A stinky sock that has a hole,
A dirty stuffed animal that was a mole,
A broken crayon,
A soda can,
A math test I forgot to do,
A down that’s supposed to say moo,
And a note from mom that said,
“Where’s my bath bomb?”
From, Mom
I chose a piece of art that meant something to my heart. I love how the painting is very detailed. It looks like a normal painting from afar, but when you look up close, it’s really just patterns stuck together in a painting. The painting I’m looking at is of a field with a few bushes and pine trees. It has fluffy white clouds up in the sky. Vincent Van Gogh painted this amazing painting. It is called “Yellow Wheat and Cypresses.”
A form change poem
(with thanks to David Bouchard, If You’re Not From the Prairie . . . )
If you’re not from New England,
You’ve never tasted syrup.
Buckets of sap, boiling hot, steaming.
Open your mouth! Taste it!
Sugary, smooth, sliding down your throat.
If you’re not from New England,
You’ve never tasted syrup.
If you’re not from New England,
You haven’t felt the wind.
Cold, stinging,
Burning your cheeks and ears.
Making your nose pink,
Creeping into your sleeves,
Taking over.
Warmth gone, you run inside to get rid of that icy wind.
If you’re not from New England,
You haven’t felt the wind.
If you’re not from New England,
You haven’t seen animals.
Black, brown, white, every color.
Dashing, scampering, slipping, sliding animals,
Every size, type, and kind.
If you’re not from New England,
You haven’t seen animals.
If you’re not from New England,
You haven’t seen the woods.
Dark, dreary, close-together trees,
Everywhere, covering the land.
Don’t get lost!
There’s a chance it won’t be easy
Getting out of those trees.
If you’re not from New England,
You don’t know trees.
If you’re not from New England,
You don’t know the mud.
Icky, sticky, mushy, a mess!
Mixed with the slush,
Mud glues you to the ground.
It is likely that you’re not going to get out
Of this boot-swallowing disaster.
If you’re not from New England,
You don’t know the mud.
My hair is the swaying grass.
My eyes are filled with water droplets.
My feet grip the ground with dark, brown roots.
My veins are flowing with syrup.
I love New England.
I was scared of the thundercloud outside.
Clatter, clatter went the rain on the roof.
Chatter, chatter went my teeth, unstoppable.
Scatter, scatter went the leaves on the lawn.
I jumped when I heard the thundercloud say, “BOOM! BOOM!
I know you’re safe in your room!
BOOM! BOOM!
But I’ll get you soon at half past noon!
BOOM! BOOM!”
That thundercloud sure does like to loom
Around my room!
O thou art bubbly and fine,
You’re really divine,
You brave and courageous bathtub!
My heart really pounds
When I sit down
In your frothingly warm water.
O my love!
I would send you a dove,
If really I only could get one.
You are very nice,
And I don’t have lice,
So don’t you be ever worried.
My love will never fail,
Though you are quite pale,
My glorious pearly bathtub.