3. For Dennis, my professional and personal supporter
and my grandchildren, my joy
2
4. Table of Contents
Part I Original Work
1. Credo 4
2. A Poem 5
3. Getting a BIG, BIG Dog Off the Couch 6
4. I Remember a Day 7
5. A Girl’s Room 8
6. Faith 9
Part II Critiques and Philosophy
Part III Appendix
Author’s Note
Information About the Author
Reviews
3
5. Credo
I believe in truth, children crave it,
I believe in humor, innate in children,
I believe in empathy, to engage the soul,
I believe in connections in life, from child to adult,
I believe in simplicity.
I believe that, when possible, the more succinct and simple writing is the most
powerful. This belief extends to my attitude towards life, as well as my teaching.
4
6. A Poem
A poem is….
A short rope.
Entwined with meaning,
Filled with fibers,
A beginning and an end,
Attached to being.
Although I believe in simplicity, I also think there is subtle and underlying meaning
to chosen words as they are pieced together to form poetry.
5
7. Getting a BIG, BIG Dog Off the Couch
Here doggie, doggie,
No way.
COME HERE doggie, doggie,
No way.
GET OFF THE COUCH
Ears twitch.
How about a treat?
Eyes open.
Push the rear, push the front,
Eyes close.
TRY AGAIN,
PUSH the rear, PUSH the front,
Tail wags.
TRY AGAIN,
PUSH the rear, PUSH the front,
DOG on floor.
Dog back on couch.
I’ll sit in the chair.
My Great Pyrenees who is currently 110
pounds and only a year old inspired this
poem. No human can fit next to him
when he is lying on the couch.
6
8. I Remember a Day
I remember the sunspot glittering on the ground,
Making me wonder why it danced.
I remember a hummingbird dipping into morning glories,
Sipping the nectar from their depths.
I remember the drooping thorn tree branches,
Enclosing a play area around its trunk.
I remember my foot bleeding,
Throbbing from a thorn in my sole,
I remember someone chopping down the tree,
Destroying the delight of imagination.
7
9. One morning, when I was five years old, I woke up with the sun shining on my
bedroom floor. I looked out my window and saw a hummingbird flitting from
morning glory to morning glory. This was the first time I remember seeing
hummingbirds and morning glories. There was also a large thorn tree in my
backyard. I was told not to play under it, but the secrecy of the dark under its
branches enticed me. Regretfully, I got a very large thorn stuck in my foot.
8
10. A Girl’s Room
Brother’s PS under my pillow,
Sounds of banging on my wall.
Molly and Emily on the floor
Dolls dressed up for a good night.
Ballet tutus, torn and dirty,
Hanging on a peg.
Empty dollhouse in the corner,
Tiny furniture scattered.
Bowed barrettes and headbands,
Sparkling in the closet.
Purple Teddy by my head,
Waiting for its hug.
Mommy’s footsteps in the hall,
Time to go to sleep.
9
11. When I think of a young girl’s room, I picture my five year old granddaughter’s
bedroom.
10
12. Faith
Faith waited clamped to the seat. Camp would be dreadful., all her fears about
playing outside and insect bites threaded through her body. She knew she couldn’t
get off the bus.
She’d been petrified since her teacher told the class about the school fieldtrip to a
camp. The permission slip lay on her desk. Maybe she could lose it and not give it to
her mother. But it was attached to her weekly report and if she tore it off her mother
would know. Faith knew her mother wouldn’t let her miss a day of school unless she
was puking or running a high fever.
A hand smacked her on the head. “Come on. Get off the bus. Grab your lunch,” said
her friend Cayley.
It was okay for her friend to be so excited. She liked to play outside in the woods
behind her house. She even had a treehouse out there.
Everyone else was off the bus. Her friend, sitting next to the window, pushed her
harder.
“I can’t, I just can’t”, Faith moaned. “Do you think Ms. Mello will call my mom to
come get me?”
“You’re such a baby. We’re going to have fun. Anything’s fun when you don’t have to
be at school.”
Faith moved her legs sideways into the bus aisle. “Go by yourself. I’m staying here,”
she said.
So, there went her friend, tromping off the bus.
Faith lay down on the seat. Maybe they wouldn’t notice that she was still on the bus.
She crunched up her legs onto the bus seat. Now, no one would see her.
Uh, oh! Footsteps sounded purposefully in the aisle. Who was it now?
11
13. Faith’s teacher touched her knee. “Faith, we’re going to have fun this week. You can
stay right by me until you feel you feel safe. Nothing’s going to hurt you.”
“Hurt me,” thought Faith. There were bugs to sting her; animals to bite her, and even
poison ivy to make her itch.
She knew she couldn’t get out of not getting off the bus. She knew her mother
wouldn’t come get her. Most horribly, she knew her friends would laugh at her if she
showed her fear.
Faith walked down the aisle, hunched over as if her stomach hurt. Holding onto the
side rails, she tentatively placed her feet on each bus step. There, she was on the
ground, at camp.
She turned her head to look at the kids in her class. A huge bumblebee buzzed and
flapped in front of her face. She ran. Her classmates’ laughter followed her. There
were trees everywhere. What if she got lost? Reluctantly, she stopped, turned
around, and trudged back to her classmates. Ms. Mello, her teacher, put her arm
around Faith, directing her to listen to the camp director.
Great! The director was dividing the class into three groups for the morning: one to
go swimming first, another to go hiking with a camp counselor, and the third group
to go into a classroom with her teacher. Of course, Faith was picked to go with the
camp counselor.
As Faith waited in her group, she noticed that there were big puddles along the
hiking paths. If they went for a walk, how would they get around the water?
The camp counselor explained that they would be hiking, but because of the recent
rain there was a lot of water on the trails. They would have to walk on the sides of
the large puddles near the bushes so they could get around the water.
Faith tried. She really tried, but her cowboy boots seemed destined to slip in the
water. Oh, well. Since her boots were already wet, she might as well just walk
through the puddles. In fact, she should just run through them! And run, she did.
A loud voice stopped her in the middle of the biggest puddle on the trail. Her feet
slid to a stop, her boots sinking into mud. She looked down at her feet. They were
covered in water. Her socks felt wet. Her boots were leaking.
She pulled her feet out of the mud, the tops of her feet tight against the foot of each
boot. Her friend Cayley hissed at her. “Why did you have to go through the puddle?
The counselor’s not going to be happy.”
12
