Alphabet Soup Compiled by Martha Allen
Poems by Lagunitas Community School 3rd, 4th, 6th and 7th graders
Why? by Lucy Hiller, grade 6
Why must the world be so divided When we would be better united? Humans are always so glad To make themselves good and others bad. But I wish that some day We’ll notice we’re all a shade of gray.
My Noisy Summer by Vivi Hutchison, grade 3 This summer I went to lots of camps I did not like one of them at all Because I did not like the sound of mosquitos Buzzing in my ear every night! Before I knew it, I was at my uncle’s wedding And a lot of people were screaming at the kiss Instead of this I would just like to stay home Burning Man by Enzo Troy, grade 3 I went to Burning Man I saw an art car that looked like a willow tree With a twirly slide on its bark. I heard fire shooting up from each corner of the car I felt mud on my feet as I was walking at night. The night was the best because everyone Was awake and laughing and talking outside. I like camping with my friends How to Survive Hard Times by Eva Yarbrough, grade 6 It’s a clean slate Like a glossy sheet of laminated paper But it sticks out like a sore thumb Its surroundings are unknown It is different from everything else yet so the same But soon I was on a plane again And a baby was crying really loud. What a noisy summer!
A Day at the Beach by Nico Balazs-Guendelman, grade 4 When I got to the beach I felt the sand on my bare feet. As my feet sank into the wet sand, My little sister put out her hand And said “Hold on! I’ll pull you up.” It escapes into the sea When I try to chase it. I wonder “Where is its family?” At the end of the day, I think to myself “What a perfect day at the beach!” As she is pulling me up, I see a little sea lion pup.
Looking Back by Miles Nason, grade 3 Last summer I left school with glee Even if I missed math a lot. June and July was just Play, play, play. The Fourth of July parade Was fantastic in a way And all August we lay in the sun. Now school is back but Oh! weren’t we just here yesterday??
To Go to the Moon by Abram Shaw, grade 6 To go to the moon Is the dream I once had To go to the moon so close But it’s so far to go to the moon I can’t walk I can’t run I can only dream To go to the moon.
What is That? by Paolo Scafani, grade 4 Finally it’s Halloween I look to my left and – oh! What is that with a big round head And its body completely white? I’m scared! Oh… just an astronaut. But what is that? Surely not another costume. It has big jaws and it is green. Oh … just a blow-up dinosaur. But what is that? I’m back at my house So what can that be? Oh … I’m looking in the mirror. I’m in my bed but what is that outside my window? Two glowing eyes in the forest. I’m scared half to death. It’s getting closer! It’s grey. It’s a monster! Aaaaah!
Weekend Days by Greta List, grade 6 Sunday, Saturday
The days when crisp potatoes are made, Days when you can sit in the cool shade, The days to work in the yard The days to play with cards Sunday, Saturday Those days are the best Those days when you could invite guests Those days when you would dine Those days were always just fine. Sunday, Saturday.
Its memories unshared and uncared for. The paper isn’t matt; it is new and shiny and is perfect to some but it will learn that not everyone will prefer the shiny paper The shiny paper will soon be old, crumpled, and tattered with fingerprints and frayed edges but if you look hard enough you will see that it is still a shiny piece of paper.
Winter by Ziggy Greenholz, grade 7 A cold chill of preparation for spring The ice melting into vapor The trees bare as bones The grass browning with sadness The color of fall has faded Christmas close so close You can taste the cookies and milk, the peppermint and chocolate A breeze that lifts you up And the anticipation for spring Guides you through your own winter.
More by Olive Winningham, grade 6 More than fuchsia funnels breaking out of the campbell tree. More than the display of cherry limbs shoving their cotton candy colored petals on the dripping sky. More than power outage nights, and the candles that light them. More than the last drop of cookies and cream ice cream in the box. More than my package in the mail and the pigeon that delivered it More than my Halloween candy all organized in rainbow order. or the present that I wrapped on Christmas with the perfect edge. I love you more than the sun, moon, and stars. I love you to the end of earth’s ledge.
My Garden by Shien Sakai, grade 3
When I look around my garden I see koi fish in a special pond I hear birds singing but I like to explore. I chase the lizards and catch them with my hands The alligator lizards eat blue belly lizards But not when they are really little. I learned all about snakes and lizards From my dad who made this beautiful garden
Reflections by Suzanne Sadowsky Life in Balance
will be cured and eliminated by gene modification therapy. If so, we may no longer have to rely on Atavan or Prozac or a plethora of other prescription pharmaceuticals to address the symptoms. Anxiety is contagious, like a virus. We know this because when we are around other people who are anxious we run the risk of catching it and become anxious ourselves. When my daughter is anxious, I catch it and it infects my mind. If and when a vac- cine is developed for anxiety, there may one day be a cure anxiety. But then again, it might be banned by the anti-vaxers in our government because they would be afraid that the side effects might mitigate fear cause excessive euphoria. Like cannabis. Seriously, though, anxiety among people of a certain age, for those of us in our 70s, 80s and 90s feeling anxious is existential as we come closer to the end of life as we know it. I came to terms with my own mortality half a lifetime ago when I was 45 when I had cancer. I’m not afraid to die, but I am not I looking forward to it either. I am blessed with a good life and a loving family and wonderful friendships and meaningful work. But I do worry about how my daughter and grandchildren will feel and deal with my demise when I’m gone. We are a very close family and we keep in touch every day and sometimes many times during the day. I hope that their love for me and each other will keep them healthy and strong and able to address and navigate the vicissitudes, the ups and downs, the struggles of life, with- out being burdened with excessive worry and angst. In my Jewish tradition when somebody dies we say: “May their memory be for a blessing.” I hope that they will feel blessed by their memories of me, as I have been blessed by their being. I sometimes think I may have a case of rapid-cycling bipolar disorder. Because while I do worry a lot—and believe me, I have had my share of serious things to worry about, my life is also filled with joy and wonder and laughter. Birthday parties, and celebrations, holidays and Holy Days, children and wonderful friends near and far.
I am working hard to keep my life in balance. I use a cane to keep from falling. I try to eat sensibly. But I don’t exercise enough. I relax and rest when I need to. On Saturdays I don’t open my computer. But emotional balance is something else altogether. I am an anxious person, by nature. And lately I have been feeling quite anxious a lot more than usual. I worry about personal things and I also worry about bigger things -- climate change, the future of our country, the ero- sion of social programs. Many of the people I’m in touch with tell me that they are feeling similarly anxious. A lot of my angst has to do with the perilous state of our world --the fragility of the planet and immanent danger to freedom of expression. But until now I never thought that we would have to be defending the promise of Democracy itself. Not in my country where we pledge to preserve liberty and justice for all - No More Kings. Not here, not now, not again. My life as I was growing up the mid-20th Century—1930’s 40’s and 50s—the Great Depression, the War, and the Red Scare during McCarthy Era. Those dif- ficult times almost certainly contributed to my predisposition to anxiety. But a tendency to worrying was also very likely inherited from my mother, who suffered from migraines and non-specific generalized neurosis. She was always reassuring, but I could sense her angst especially about our safety, health and well-being and the economic uncertainty of our family during the war years.
Maybe scientists will one day discover that there is an anxiety gene and that anxiety
Reflections continues on page 15
Page 14 SGV Community Center Stone Soup
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