“YOU KILLED OUR GOD, JESUS CHRIST, AND NOW, WE KILL YOU.” Rose, a Jewish girl, read this banner in fear as she entered Turkheim, another concentration camp. Once, she smiled and was thrown into a tank of raw sewage that made her develop large sores. Guards stripped Rose and several other women naked and forced them to stand out in the snow. She watched as one by one the women dropped and froze to death. At an average, 18 hours was a days labor. 60 to 80 percent of the quarter inch piece of bread that they received daily consisted of sawdust. Overseers used cat-of-nine whips to hit the worker’s arms, torsos, and legs. read more »

It all started out with a tiny, shining gold bug. Mr. William Legrand lifted an arm to ward of the little warrior. The bug flew into his face. Jupiter- Legrands black slave, caught it with a piece of parchment stuck in the sand near by. This is how the venture of treasure, exhaustion, and mystery began.
The parchment chanced to go close to a fire, relieving a strange code created by the scalawag pirate Kidd. After months of revision, Legrand finally cracks the code. It leaves him with buried truths.
Legrand’s friend thinks he is raving mad when he erratically takes off on a venture into the hills at night- asking him for his accompaniment. Jupiter climbs a tree to find a skull, and from there drops a string plumb down through the left eye. Later Edger Allen Poe goes on to describe how this curious adventure began and ended. The end leaves one mystery left unlocked too tantalize the reader. It’s almost like waving a jewel in front of a kings greedy eyes. Read on to see what I liked…
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This pencil and paper ordeal is really fun! The first picture is is me, and the second is Renae leaning against my Dads shoulder. A week before Christmas we decided to give each other portraits. My pic looks kinda cartoonish, and hers are shaded perfectly, making an elegant photo of lead on paper. We both spent hours on the pics, and Renae drew out a grid for hers. Drawing them was fun, wrapping them was fun, and opening them was fun. So, well, I guess we had fun. I expect you’ll have fun looking at them too.

“Ugg, what are these bumps on my arm?” I slept solely on my left side, so immediately the assumption walked through my brain that somehow the blood had cluttered together and got stuck. A parallel section on the back of my hand was bright red, appearing rashly that morning. The crimson streak ran up my arm. Of all this, I made no relationship. read more »

Flashing lights, spinning toilet plungers called Chinese yo-yo’s, and Gigantic lines pouring into McDonald’s. Crowds packed almost as tight as clusters of green bananas. People hurrying everywhere, stopping at stalls everywhere, and sitting on benches everywhere. It’s unfortunate that I can’t flip back to that page in my history as easy as in a book. The following story is about a time Emily and I got lost in Alcala at night. Our family planned on the way to Alcala that if we did get lost (which of course, we wouldn’t), we could meet at the statue of Don Quijote. For some reason we made the unspoken decision to run about having fun being lost instead of going and waiting forever at the statue. Anyways, I think I’m blobbering, so I’ll let you read what Emily Musser wrote:
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Our friend, Stephanie Gonzalez, wrote this story. It’s about a day when we went over to her house and took a walk and got lost. Somehow we managed to walk in the exact opposite direction of the way we were supposed to go. Don’t even try to read out loud, it’s so funny you might choke. Enjoy!
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My family used to sit down and munch through books. Feeling like an envious outsider, I would watch every one else licking their lips with the delight of language as they gulped down sentences. “How come everybody else can read and I can’t read!?” Even everyone in my second grade class knew how to do it. The mysterious code of reading seemed impossible to crack! I cried my way through the struggle of learning.
My parents did not force me to read. Later I struggled to learn how to decipher the written language from my mother. It was my individual choice to pick up books. I eventually developed an almost unnatural taste for reading, like a glutton among anorexics. read more »

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU, HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU, HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR DAAAAAAD HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU!!!
You were three days late of a tax reduction. A man already grown in Marcias womb. Once, a person stopped your to-be mother on the street and told her that she was the biggest pregnant lady he had ever seen. Your Dad bounced you over rocky roads trying to get you to hurry up and hop on out. Marcia took caster oil. You must have been one big baby.
When you suddenly decided to be born, the OBGYN, or the doctor birthing dude, had to rush down the hall cause for some reason you really wanted out. As he walked briskly, one nurse handed him his surgical mask and doctor clothes while another nurse picked up his normal clothes he threw behind him. That baby put things off for a while, but when he decided to emerge, he hurried up and got right to it. My Dad might put things off a while, but when he sets his mind to it he gets things done.
You were one big baby, and you’re one big Dad. I’m glad you spanked me, happy you trained me, and joyful to have such a Dad as you. Thanks for everything. Now, lets see about that chocolate pie…