Apr. 4, 1976... I didn't go to church because I got hungry, so I went with Les and Mrs. K. to the Modernistic Restaurant. I had 2 1/2 pieces of French toast, 1 sausage, hot tea. I wish I'd gone to church tho' 'cause Rev. Jones read my poem "Spring"! A lady told Mom that I should try to publish it! Seven others commented on it! WOW! Ironic, life. Besides the honor of having my poem read in church, it was published in the weekly church bulletin since a number of individuals had asked for a copy of it; in the following weeks I was sent two thank you notes in the mail for sharing my writing with the church. It felt good to know that my efforts were appreciated; more importantly, it prompted people to take a second look at nature's splendor. Spring It's the beginning of Spring, And God's in the air, Not just in my woods, But everywhere. I can feel him like the breeze As it blows on me, And so can the robin, the eagle, the bee. And as the sun's rays Beat down on the earth The world suddenly awakes And is filled with new birth. Under the leaves so dead and brown, Sprouts a Spring Beauty, and life is found. Spring is life... Of this I've no doubt, I feel I'm alive, and I want to shout! Lauren Isaacson 8th Grade I used to sit on my front steps and watch the storms approach. The sky would turn gray, then dark, inky blue as thunderheads bearing rain scouted a path above the tall oaks surrounding our house. Lightning seared the murky, restless skies as I peered into the dark abyss above me, and when the storm drew hauntingly near, I would relinquish my seat for one inside the house. My love of storms was not blind love; I respected the power of nature and maintained my distance, continuing my vigilance protected by four walls. I once witnessed the mauling destruction of a seemingly healthy oak as the wind cracked its trunk at 20 feet above the ground and sent its entire upper portion sprawling to the woodland floor. I gawked in astonishment and breathed a sigh of relief that the tree had not fallen in the direction of my aunt's home. Wide-eyed, I realized that my hands were shaking; I left the doorway and took a seat in the living room. A Storm In The Offing Storm clouds are coming, The wind is in wrath; Soon raindrops will penetrate Everything in their path. The sun is still shining, The birds, still in chorus... But this will not last, For a storm is before us. The wind is now lashing The trees without care, And their sap is now flowing With each breath of air. The sun's face is veiled With a blanket of gray; The heavens break open, And rain fills the day. Lauren Isaacson 8th Grade