Gum Tree Writing 20150511

2015 Youth Celebration of Writing Contest Winners from grades K-12

Lee County Courthouse by Lauren Dunn

Wayne Averett, RICP速, FIC Financial Representative 704 North Gloster Street, Suite 2C Tupelo, MS 38804 Phone: (662) 871-9235 Fax: (662) 205-8591 Jerry.W.Averett.Jr@mwarep.org www.modern-woodmen.org

A NEWSPAPER & EDUCATION SUPPLEMENT TO THE

to Lee County Schools GumTree Writing Contest Winners -Jimmy Weeks, LCS Superintendent & Staff Advertisement paid for by Tupelo Modern Woodmen of America

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The 44th Celebration of the Arts

| FRIDAY, MAY 8, 2015

2015 YOUTH CELEBRATION OF WRITING CONTEST

The Tradition of Writing by Amy Wyatt A s an elementary student, I remember studying about ancient civilizations and their cultures. Two things that always stood out to me were the use of Egyptian hieroglyphics and the even earlier cave paintings in France. I always thought it was so amazing that even that long ago, people were trying to leave their mark. They had a message they wanted to share, and they found a means to do it.

If you don’t count the cave drawings, writing as a form of communication has been around since at least 3,500 B.C. when civilizations in ancient Mesopotamia used a form of symbols or pictographs called Cuneiform script. Over time, the type of writing we use today developed. Whether through picture writing or words, people since our earliest times have found ways to record information, pass along stories, and stretch their creativity.

Societies valued this form of communication and wanted its young students to be educated about how to properly use it. Eventually, writing became one of the three Rs - reading, writing, and arithmetic.

Schools have been teaching the conventions of writing, such as grammar, spelling, vocabulary, and punctuation, for centuries. Some schools have even placed an emphasis on the process of writing, where students learn prewriting strategies, drafting, editing, and publishing skills.

Teaching students about writing has become a tradition in our local schools as well, and our community has also long supported writing as an art form.

This is evidenced by the creation of this writing contest in the early 1990s. For almost twenty-five years, students all over Lee County have submitted narratives, essays, and poems to be judged. Countless students have enjoyed being recognized by their school districts and at the Gum Tree Festival, receiving prizes and ribbons, having their work displayed in the window at Reed’s Department Store, and being an actual published author when their piece was published in the Daily Journal. These are such valuable experiences! I am very thankful for the tradition of the Gum Tree Writing Contest in our area and for everyone who plays a part in pulling it off each year.

This year a whole new group of students will experience the joys of winning the contest. The process of choosing winning entries and publishing them had many steps. It began in February when representatives from schools all over Lee County were contacted to serve as building-level coordinators. The coordinators passed along information about the contest, including rules and timelines. Later, near the end of March, they were responsible for collecting students’ papers and delivering them to my school.

All this work was leading up to a very important date – judging day! I was humbled to work with so many talented people willing to spend the day at the Hancock Leadership Center in order to complete the daunting task of reading over fifteen hundred worthy entries and narrowing them down to the small group of exceptional poems, stories, and essays that are included here. That morning began by organizing the massive stacks of papers by grade level and type of writing. Next, each piece of writing was detached from its coversheet and assigned a number. The coversheet would need to be reattached when judging was over and the paper returned to the rightful owner.

After the organizing was over, groups of judges began reading entries from their assigned grade level.

At times the room was buzzing with noisy chatter about favorite stories or poems. I heard laughter, groans, and sighs. The judges worked diligently until a first, second, and third place for each category was chosen. In some cases, a tie was granted. When the day was over, eighty-eight awards were given!

Letters of congratulation were mailed to the winners, along with a letter granting permission to publish the student’s writing and picture. It wasn’t long before I began to receive responses in my mailbox. I grew more and more excited as I checked off each name on the list.

Each entry had to be typed, numbered, and matched with the author’s picture. When all of the entries and photographs were completed, I emailed each grade level to the Northeast Mississippi Daily Journal’s office. At that point, the employees there began the process of putting together this supple-

Congratulations to All the 2015 Writing GumTree Winners!

DAILY JOURNAL

ment. I’m so thankful to them, because these students deserve a chance to share their voices. It is no small thing that readers all over Northeast Mississippi will get to experience and enjoy these stories and poems. I would also like to express my appreciation to Robert Gaines with State Farm Insurance for sponsoring the writing and youth portfolio portion of the GumTree Festival this year.

This year’s GumTree Writing Contest will come to a close on Mother’s Day at 4:00 p.m. The students will be honored for their hard work during a ceremony held at the Jefferson Street stage. After reading their writing, I can’t wait to put a face with each story or poem! I invite you to join us.

Christ First, Academics Second to None 5440 Endville Road • Belden, Mississippi 38826 (662) 844-8604 TCPS@tcpsteachers.com www.TCPS.net Tupelo Christian Preparatory School does not discriminate on the basis of race, color, national, and ethnic origin in administration of its educational policies, admissions policies, scholarship and loan programs, and athletic and other school administered programs.

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KINDERGARTEN - POETRY Logan Gray

First Place - Poetry Kindergarten Parkway Elementary School

When I Grow Up When I grow up I want to be A teacher- just wait and see.

I’ll teach the kids how to read, And haw to write and haw to leed.

I will teach the kids 1+1=2.

I will help the kids.

That is what I want to do.

When I grow up I want to be A teacher- just wait and see.

I’ll teach the kids how to read, And how to write and how to read.

I will teach the kids 1+1=2.

I will help the kids.

That is what I want to do.

Bella Bailey

Second Place - Poetry Kindergarten Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

Kity cats Kity cats drinc milc.

Kity cats play with yorn.

Kity cats lay.

Kity cats like hay in a born.

Kity cats ete.

Kity cats love.

Kity cats snugl.

Kity cats hug.

Kitty Cats Kitty cats drink milk.

Kitty cats play with yarn.

Kitty cats lay.

Kitty cats like hay in a barn.

Kitty cats eat.

Kitty cats love.

Kitty cats snuggle.

Kitty cats hug.

FRIDAY, MAY 8, 2015

Caroline Buse

Third Place - Narrative/Essay Kindergarten Carver Elementary School

Family Trip

Ginger

KINDERGARTEN - NARRATIVE / ESSAY Jake Moore

I want to rid in a boat bcus I want to see the prete wadr. I wud go to Hwie. I want to have sum alon time with my famlee.

I want to ride in a boat because I want to see the pretty water. I would go to Hawaii. I want to have some alone time with my family.

FIRST GRADE - POETRY

First Place - Narrative/Essay Kindergarten Joyner Elementary School

The Best Night of Soccer One nite I had a socr game. It was the best socr game evr.

My tem did so good they helpt me scor five gols. The other tem trid to scor a gol but my tem bloct it drum going in the gol. We whr so lucky and we won the game. I was so happy.

Shining bright Twinkling light Awesome sight Restful night One night I had a soccer game. It was the best soccer Super great game ever. My team did so good. They helped me score five goals. The other team tried to score a goal but my team blocked it from going in the goal. We were so lucky and we won the game. I was so happy.

Isaiah Barbour

Second Place - Narrative/Essay Kindergarten Thomas Street Elementary School

Spring

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Mitchell Rhea

Third Place - Poetry Kindergarten Parkway Elementary School

Ginger is a sweet dog.

She can crawl under a log.

She can jump over a frog.

She likes to play with her ball.

She chases it down the hall.

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Anna Scott Philley

First Place - Poetry First Grade Mooreville Elementary School

S T

A R S

Addison Franks

Second Place - Poetry First Grade Parkway Elementary School

Daddy

Daddy is good.

Daddy is great.

Spring is my favorite time of year. Birds sing, flowers bloom He protects the family from people who break in. and I get to play outside. I ride my bike, play basketball, He drives us to school in his big white truck. and eat snow cones. My favorite part of Spring is planting Daddy is good. healthy food. I like strawberys, carrots, and blackberys!

Daddy is great.

Remember things like this!

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2015 YOUTH CELEBRATION OF WRITING CONTEST

DAILY JOURNAL

2015 YOUTH CELEBRATION OF WRITING CONTEST

| FRIDAY, MAY 8, 2015

Jackson Speed

Third Place - Poetry First Grade Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

Spring I love spring.

I hear birds sing.

Water makes the flowers grow.

Warm sunshine means.

No more snow.

FIRST GRADE - NARRATIVE / ESSAY Addison Franks

First Place - Narrative/Essay First Grade Parkway Elementary School

The Story of the Princesses Once upon a time their was a princess named Zariya. She was a very fun girl. And don’t forget her wonderful friend Jasmen was a princess too. Also they were very close. They always went to the same royal school. They were always in the same class.

They had been friends for as long as they could remember. They both said, “I wonder how it feels to be a regular person.” “I don’t know but I can’t imagine what it would be like!” “I know what we can do to find out we can live in that empty house across the street,” said Zariya. “Great idea,” said Jasmen. “We will have to give up the dresses.” said Zariya. “Give up the DRESSES,” said Jasmen. “Yes,” said Zariya. “You can’t be serious,” said Jasmen. “Yes,” said Zariya. “You can’t be serious,” said Jasmen. “Yes,” said Zariya. “Ok we have everything packed.

Are you ready?” said Jasmen. “Yes,” said Zariya. “Ok we have everything packed. Are you ready?” said Zariya. “Yeah, pretty sure. Let’s go,” said Jasmen. And so they left for their first day of regular school. When the girls got to regular school it was very different from their other school. They had a lot of fun, but they both said, “The princess life is for me!” “There’s no place like home!”

Before I arrived at school I had butterflies in my tummy. My favorite teacher Mrs. Womack calmed me down. When we arrived at the pool, I wasn’t scared at all. When I got in the pool and it was freezing! My swim instructors’ names were Mrs. Barber and Mrs. Elkin. It was very, very fun! I even learned some new tricks. I learned how to swim under, float, and stay under water for a long, long time. The next day I wasn’t scared. I was excited! I had so much fun I didn’t want to leave. When we got on the bus I begged to stay but I could not. I missed the swimming pool, but I am so ready to go this summer!

Whitson Harbour

Third Place - Narrative/Essay First Grade Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

My Car Race One day I was at Disney World in the Test Track building. I was designing my car. The car was red with boosters on it. We finally got in our car. We went fast. There were turns and some were straight. Then we went out of the building. There was a sharp turn. We made the turn! When the ride was over, Dad and I went to see our scores. We were in first place.

Whit, you are capable of such amazing things when you work hard!

You make us proud every day.

Love, Mom, Dad, and Yancy

SECOND GRADE - POETRY

DAILY JOURNAL

We’re so proud of you, Beckley.

Keep up the good work.

Love, Mom & Dad

Rebecca Johnston Second Place - Poetry Second Grade Lawhon Elementary School

My Little Sis I have a little sis named Celia.

She likes reading Amelia Bedelia.

She says very funny things, She wears bracelets and rings.

She likes seeing beaches, She also sometimes sneezes!

We like to play dress up.

We don’t like to clean the mess up.

Her favorite animal is a horse.

She likes to sing and dance, of course.

She likes touching flowers, She hates taking showers!

She likes telling knock-knock jokes, She likes lemonade better than Coke.

She loves to help her mother cook, She loves it when I read her a book.

She likes to climb, slide, and swing But drawing is really her thing.

She likes going to the festival.

I think she is so very special.

She is very good at making friends.

I guess this now is the end.

Andrew Keen Beckley Topp

First Place - Poetry Second Grade Parkway Elementary School

Third Place - Poetry Second Grade Parkway Elementary School

Baseball

Science Marlie Judd

Second Place - Narrative/Essay First Grade Joyner Elementary School

The Day I Went Swimming

Someday I hope to explore the world.

Certainly I want to learn a lot more.

I want to travel and see the unknown.

Explore in space where no one has flown.

No rock should be unturned.

Can I discover something new?

Excited to find out, is it all true?

Baseball is fun, win or lose It doesn’t always end the way you choose.

Being the pitcher is the best.

You are involved in each play and put to the test.

Sometimes you can get hit by the ball or even take a brutal fall.

You have to take turns if you’re on a team.

Maybe sit on the bench for a long time, it seems.

But then it’s your turn to hit the field.

Playing baseball is such a thrill.

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SECOND GRADE - NARRATIVE / ESSAY Cami Britton

First Place - Narrative/Essay Second Grade Parkway Elementary School

Treasure I have a dog named Treasure. We found her as a puppy at the pet store. We knew at first sight she was a true treasure. Our dog is a German Shepherd. We gave her a pink collar to dress her up.

However, she sometimes causes a bit of trouble. We didn’t know that when we bought her. She rides in the back of my dad’s truck. Once she jumped out and we had to catch her. She can also jump over the fence. She dug up my neighbor’s flowers.

Most of the time she is good. You can find her sleeping on her mat in the dog house that she got for Christmas or eating her dog treat. She plays with us at the park and we share snow cones with her.

Our dog is a treasure because she is our friend and always glad to see us.

Shelby Burke

Second Place - Narrative/Essay Second Grade Parkway Elementary School

Missing My Front Teeth Living a life with no two front teeth is very hard. Let me explain.

It is like having a hole in your mouth for things to leak out of. When you eat you have limited space to chew. Can you imagine that? Most everything you eat has to go to the back of your mouth and you have to chew with your mouth shut.

I lost my first tooth on December 29, 2014. The second tooth came out on January 6, 2015. Since then I have not been able to eat bananas, lettuce, celery, apples, or anything crunchy that you have to bite.

What I do like about missing my front teeth is that I can stick my tongue through the hole that is left. Everyone likes to see me smile. If grownups have missing front teeth it looks bad, but not for kids.

Can you believe I even had my picture made just to show my teeth missing? Also the hole in my mouth makes the perfect place to stick a straw and drink. My new teeth

FRIDAY, MAY 8, 2015

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have just started coming in so I will probably be back to Clue #1: normal soon.

There are many bright colors, I like all of them; Bet you guessed Skittles or M-M’s!

Ali May

Third Place - Narrative/Essay Second Grade Mooreville Elementary School

My Mama My mother told me she was sick. She had breast cancer. I felt sad. My mom said, “It is going to be OK.” The doctor gave my mother some medicine called Chemo. It made her loose her hair. She would pull out her hair. My bubba shaved mama’s hair. Then she got a wig.

Next, mama had surgery twice and she had to stay in bed. Soon her hair grew back and she felt better.

Then, the school made shirts and bracelets. They sold them because they loved my mama. Now Mama is back to herself. I am so excited and thankful.

Ali, we are so proud of you, and your accomplishments. Thank you for being mom’s #1 helper while she was sick.

We are so honored God blessed us with such a smart, sassy, and loving daughter. We love you so very much!

Love, Mom, Dad, Bubba, and Sami

THIRD GRADE - POETRY

Clue #2: They are not chocolate but very, very sweet, They taste a lot better than beets and meat!

Clue #3: They don’t have nuts, but are really, really yummy!

I bet you guessed a gummy!

Clue #4: Each piece is not a circle, but a square You can buy them in parallelograms everywhere!

Clue #5: The final clue; Aren’t you glad we’re almost through?

They are very chewy, not hard at all, But juicy and gooey I do recall!

If you’re tired of guessing and you really want to know, I’ll give you one last chance, they’re lined up in a row.

Now, let me tell you what I like best.

They are so much better than all the rest!

The most awesome candy that I choose first, Is a 12-piece package of rainbow-colored Starburst!

Mason Deas

Second Place - Poetry Third Grade Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

When I Read Olivia Kate Mims

First Place - Poetry Third Grade Rankin Elementary School

Candy is Awesome I love candy, I really do.

So I want to know, how about you?

Do you want to know what I like best?

I bet you could probably guess!

Since you don’t know yet, I’ll give you some clues, Then I’ll see which one you choose.

When I read I’m transformed into characters in the book.

I’m standing where they’re standing.

I see what they see.

I hear what they hear.

Even if what I imagine isn’t what the writer imagined, it’s okay because when I read only what I imagine matters to me.

We are so proud of you!

Congratulations!

Love, Mom, Dad, and William

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2015 YOUTH CELEBRATION OF WRITING CONTEST

DAILY JOURNAL

2015 YOUTH CELEBRATION OF WRITING CONTEST

| FRIDAY, MAY 8, 2015

THIRD GRADE - NARRATIVE / ESSAY Caden Hodges

Third Place Tie - Poetry Third Grade Rankin Elementary School

Assia I like my dog Assia, and she likes me.

She’s my best friend; She makes me happy.

When she chases me on her little chubby feet, She looks like she’s laughing, her face is so sweet.

Jon Scott

First Place - Narrative/Essay Third Grade Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

War from a Boy’s View

Boom! Eighteen year old Bo Patterson had his first experience of war. He joined the army thinking it might be fun. He was now a marine in World War Two. He and some of his friends had joined a few months ago. Now three When she plays with her ball, she bounces off the wall. were left from the five. Besides, Bo their names were When she’s doing a flip sometimes she’ll fall.

James, Roger, Jack, and Joseph. Joseph and Jack died tryWhen I throw her a treat, she jumps up to eat. ing to save their brigade commander. James and Roger She likes doing tricks, then she goes to sleep. had left on a mission behind enemy lines a month ago. Not a word since. And now I was fighting for my life on the She barks real loud when someone pulls up to our house. dawn of May 1, 1945. We had been forced out of our But when nobody’s there, she’s quiet like a mouse. trench and out into the open. Two of our four officers had When she goes outside she walked straight to a tree. been shot in the trenches. We were fighting Nazi forces in Then I second later she comes back to me!

Asia. We had been fighting for three days. Hitler had withdrawn his forces and sent the Japanese in. Boom! Boom!

Two grenades exploded and a machine gun dissolved into Congratulations, Caden! We are so dust. An officer yelled, “Forward!” pushing us into a line proud of you. We have every bit of of fire. But eventually made them pull back. The next day faith in you that you will continue to we heard the sound we all dreaded- the buzz of Nazi bomber planes. excel as the years continue.

They came fast and furious. The bombs scattered our Love, Mom & Dad, Koteasha Hodges and force and killed one thousand of our two thousand. Then Travis Carter we heard another buzz surround us. But it wasn’t Nazi bombers. It was British fighter planes. They drove back the Nazi bombers like the sun driving away the darkness.

Boom! I fell to my knees. I felt the back of my head. When Brentlee Lindsey I looked at my hand, it was red with blood. Then everything Third Place Tie - Poetry went black. Six days later, May 7, 1945, I woke up one Third Grade morning on a cot in a hospital. The people there told me Saltillo Elementary School an explosion nearly killed me, but I was too far away for it do any real damage. They told me Hitler had surrendered.

My Trampoline Do you remember my friends? Well, their plane was shot down, but they were low enough that they survived. Now I knew war wasn’t a joke.

When I’m jumping I feel like I’m walking on air.

I’m flying free without a care.

It flips my hair all through the air.

I jump highly above the trees without a scare.

The chirping birds stop by sometimes just to say “Hi!” All of nature is wondering why I’m among them in the sky.

I’m weightless can’t you see.

So take off your shoes and come join me.

Great job! Congratulations!

We are proud of you!

Love, Mom & Dad, Braden, Ethan, Sydney Katherine

DAILY JOURNAL

Tristan Baldwyn

Second Place - Narrative/Essay Third Grade Saltillo Elementary School

Life Sometimes in life you get every single thing you want.

Do you ever wonder about the people who don’t? Some people do not have homes, money, clothes, food, or water.

There are adults and kids without what they need.

If it wasn’t for God and Jesus no one would have anything. Everybody needs to pray for the people who don’t have the things they need. The world is a dangerous place and God and Jesus will protect us if we love them and have faith. They will give us everything we need. To have faith you need to go to some kind of church to learn about God and Jesus. You need to think about God and Jesus.

You need to think about the people that don’t have the things they need.

Life is about the things that you need not the things you want.

Rhodes McCarty

Third Place Tie Narrative/Essay Third Grade Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

What’s It’s Like to Be in Love Well, if you have a girlfriend it can be fun at first going to the movies, out to eat, and going bowling or something but they always tease you about it. Then comes high school. Things are pretty much the same except for the fact that you don’t get teased anymore. Then you get married. The first month or so isn’t so bad. Well, then you have children and you’re excited. Then they get older. It’s not bad. It just changes. You’re also paying so your wife can have a beauty treatment or something. It’s not bad except when they start going like every six weeks! Well, that doesn’t really matter because in the end you still love each other.

Congratulations, Rhodes Love, Mom, Dad, Dow & Henry

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Reed Bingham

Allie Katherine Burrow

Third Place Tie - Narrative/Essay Third Grade Saltillo Elementary School

The Perfect Pitch I’m on deck with 1 out in the 9th inning. The second batter lays down a bunt. The pitcher fields it clean, and throws the ball to first. “He’s out!” yelled the umpire. I’m making my way to home plate. My palms are sweaty, and my feet are nearly asleep. Coach told me to lean back and wait on the ball. My team is cheering in the dugout. The pitcher throws it right down the plate.

C R A C K! A shot down the 1st base line.

I didn’t get to go to second until Ross hit a bomb to the center field wall. HOME RUN! The crowd goes wild! I could hear my team waiting for us at home plate. Eli, Brayden, Tre, Ben, and most of all coach, Dad. We won 21. It really was a perfect pitch.

We love you!

Daddy, Mama, and Cooper

It is so easy to paint And it is easy to draw It’s so much fun to do And it is not hard at all.

The Grove

Art is amazing Art is great.

I started to like art When I was only eight.

Millions of fans, To shake players’ hands, Fans cheer loud, They are so proud!

The boys are dressed in reds and blues.

The girls are in fancy high-heel shoes.

I play football on the grass.

Colonel Rebel throws a pass.

We eat lots of junk!

Mom packed it in our trunk!

It’s time for the game!

A rebel win will bring us fame!

Hotty Totty, Go Rebels!

FOURTH GRADE - POETRY Emma Fox

Third Place - Poetry Fourth Grade Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

First Place - Poetry Fourth Grade Shannon Elementary School

Art is Great

A Cookie Personified Clickity clack! Clickity clack!

On a shiny kitchen table, A cookie’s toes are a-tappin’.

His arms are a-swingin’.

And his icing is a-wigglin’.

He hears a groovy tune Called “Under the Chocolate Moon.”

He turns to the tall, glamorous glass of milk And says, “You wanna tango?”

Do you know what I love?

I love art.

I want to be like Picasso He was very, very smart.

I love to paint, And I like to draw.

Just like Leonardo Da Vinci He was the very best I ever saw.

I love to paint sunsets And landscapes too!

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These are all things That I really like to do!

Second Place - Poetry Fourth Grade Saltillo Elementary School

Full of trees, Pretty as you please,

Charleigh Robinson

FRIDAY, MAY 8, 2015

So take a piece of paper.

Give it your best.

It is okay if you mess up It’s not a test.

Art is wonderful I hope you see Now you can be an artist Just like me!

FOURTH GRADE - NARRATIVE / ESSAY Zoie Tharp

First Place Tie Narrative/Essay Fourth Grade Saltillo Elementary School

The Wonders of Orabia There is a place, deep in the woods. Not a soul knows about it. It is in our dreams, and our thoughts, what we think of, what we want. It is all controlled by Orabia.

Orabia is a place of fairies, and gnomes, a place of dragons, pegasus, unicorns and all else. A place of hope. Our story is about how a girl saved Orabia.

Lilly sat in her classroom waiting for recess. She was reading The Hobbit. Anna sat beside her. Lilly loved mythical things. Her grandfather used to tell her stories of a mythical dreamland called Orabia. How she wished to find Orabia. Behind her house were three acres of woods. She had springs, lakes, flowers, and other pretty things.

The bell rang for recess at last. “Oh I can’t wait to ride Bell when I get back home!,” Lilly exclaimed. Speaking of her horse back home, Lilly walked with Anna.

After recess, Lilly walked to the buses,”Clonk, clonk, clonk.” Lilly walked up to her bus, 302. The bus started up.

Lilly talked to Anna on her way home. When the bus drove by a park, Lilly saw someone wonderfully strange. She

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2015 YOUTH CELEBRATION OF WRITING CONTEST

DAILY JOURNAL

2015 YOUTH CELEBRATION OF WRITING CONTEST

| FRIDAY, MAY 8, 2015

thought it was a little girl like her, but when she walked behind a tree, nothing but two butterflies came back out.

When Lilly arrived back home, Anna and she walked down the sidewalk. They noticed more butterflies. Soon they were all around them and Lilly said, “Anna, why do these butterflies have faces?” They were all around and then they flew into a door in a tree.

Keegan Figueroa

First Place Tie Narrative/Essay Fourth Grade Mooreville Elementary School

Eagle Man I woke up coughing. I didn’t remember coughing yesterday. I only remember getting pecked at by an eagle at the zoo. The eagle made me bleed like crazy. I looked down at the spot where it pecked me. It was swollen badly. I felt nauseous from looking at the wound. I blacked out, and when I woke up everything looked magnified by 100. I saw every dust particle like it was a little ball that was struck on my floor. I tried harder and harder to clear my thoughts and tried to make my magnified vision go away. After seven tries, I finally got it turned off. I was wondering if it had been from the eagle peck. I tried to turn it back on , and my vision magnified. I stumbled back. How could I do that? I tried to fly because an eagle can fly. I floated off the ground, and I flew to the door at amazing speeds. I could see stuff from far away, fly, and had super speed. I just became a superhero. I wondered what I would call myself.

Superman? No, he is already a superhero. Eagleman? Yes, I like that name. Now, what will my suit look like? A hale in the middle? No, an H in the middle with a brown costume and feathers? Yes, with my super speed, I made the costume (using my mom’s sewing machine) in 30 seconds.

I put it on and it felt good. I heard a scream, and I flew to the sound. There was a fire, and I flew into the building to save the girl and her brother. When I took them outside, the boy was crying. He said his dog was in there. I flew back in, and I found the dog under a bed. I took it out, and I brought it to the boy. The boy said, “Thank you. What’s your name?” “Eagleman” I said. “Well thank you Eagleman for saving us,” said the girl. “You’re welcome,” I said. I flew off and went back home. Now you see how I became Eagleman. If you ever need help, you know who to call.

You amaze us each day with your passion for learning, life, and others. We are proud of this accomplishment and we love you.

Love, Dad, Mom, Kullen, and Kip

Liza Lewis

Second Place Tie Narrative/Essay Fourth Grade Mooreville Elementary School

Milley the Monster Milley went to an all girl monster boarding school.

Milley had a disease called “Poofy Problems.” Her hair was always poofy and she was bullied. One day things changed. A little monster walked up and sniffed, “Hi, I’m Masey!” “I’m Milley,” replied Milley. “I have a disease when I always sniffle. It’s called Sniffletosice,” Masey sadly confessed. “I have a disease too. It’s called Poofy Problems. It is when my hair sticks up,” cried Milley. From that day on Milley and Masey became best friends because of their differences. Be who you are and say what you feel because those who mind don’t matter and those who matter don’t mind. -Dr. Seuss

Jacob Smith

Second Place Tie Narrative/Essay Fourth Grade Saltillo Elementary School

Opposites Meet There once was a superhero named Superman, but some people called him the Man of Steel. The citizens of Gotham named him that, because he was the strongest man on Earth. He could also shoot lasers out of his eyes, and make things turn to ice.

One day the evil villain Man Super (the opposite of Superman) was all the way in space on the planet, Threa (the planet of different superheros). He was bored and wanted to go to another planet. The reasons why he wanted to leave is, because he was so bored of his planet. He found planet Earth.

Once he got to Earth, he found Gotham. He also found Superman. Man Super got scared and attacked Superman, because he thought he was a villain. When Man Super attacked, he had the opposite powers of Superman. He shot lasers out of his mouth, and ice out of his eyes. The battle began. Man Super had thrown Superman into a building, but Superman got back and lasered him in the chest. Man Super iced Superman in the leg, but Superman knocked him out with a super punch.

Finally, the battle was over. Superman won, and Man Super was knocked out cold. Superman called Batman over to get his rocket, put Man Super in it, and fly back to

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Threa. Well now Superman could finally relax for the day, and the world was saved.

Caydee Fleming

Third Place Tie Narrative/Essay Fourth Grade Saltillo Elementary School

Sally Jane Goes to Disney World!

Hi, I am Sally Jane. I am a Maltese from Saltillo, Mississippi. I am a dog by the way. One day I was lying on the couch bored out of my mind, so I decided to take a trip to Disney World.

Once arriving, I found myself in shock. There were so many people. I couldn’t wait to meet all my new friends.

And so, my journey began.

I entered the gates of Disney World and was amazed.

I just couldn’t believe my eyes. I saw everything from Mickey Mouse to Cinderella and even funnel cakes. I even saw these twisty, twirly, spinning things. I just had to find out why all my friends were standing in line for these things.

So, I jumped in one of the Mad Hatter’s tea cups. My paws just couldn’t spin the tea cups fast enough. It was so fun. The next thing I followed my friends to was some kind of mountain. Well, this Space Mountain wasn’t like any other mountain I had seen on TV. This thing twisted and turned, all while in the dark. I couldn’t see anything. I decided I was done with all these sorts of things.

Therefore, I headed to try the food. It was awesome!

I had ice cream, churros, chicken strips, and my favorite, funnel cakes. I ate so much that I got a belly ache and decided I was ready to be home with Caydee.

Alexia Smith

Third Place Tie Narrative/Essay Fourth Grade Saltillo Elementary School

The Messy Date One Saturday night, my mom was going to have a date with this guy named Jake at her house. I guess my mom forgot our deal. The deal was if my mom went on a date we would have to agree if we liked the person. But since she didn’t do the deal, I’m going to mess up the date.

“Perfect,” mom said. The date was at her place. “Phew,” I

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thought. I was gonna have to sneak in the car and do all that spy junk. Now Mom was done setting up the date and the guy arrived. Mom said they were having spaghetti for their dinner. When I heard that, I knew just how to mess it up. I was under their table waiting for mom to go away and she did. So, while I was waiting for mom I wanted to make it messy for Jake. I threw mom’s whole plate of spaghetti on him and kicked him 20 times in the leg. Now, for my best stunt. I threw all of the spaghetti that Mom cooked into the fan and it splattered everywhere. I got a “BIG” punishment, but it was worth it.

Congratulations, Alexia! We are so proud of you and all your creativity and hard work!

We are so proud of you!

Love, Nana & Grandaddy

Congratulations, Grace! Take pride in how far you have come. Have faith in how far you can go! YOU ROCK!

Grace McMullan

First Place - Poetry Fifth Grade Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

Dyslexia I like basketball I like school but I have Dyslexia and I don’t feel cool Dyslexia makes learning really hard I get mixed up and fall behind but even though I try my best I don’t always pass every test I would rather play basketball because it is more fun When I’m in the game I’m just like everyone

Grace, we are so proud of you and your accomplishment! Always believe in yourself and that you can do anything you put your mind to!

We love you! Mama & Daddy

Congratulations, Grace!

We are so proud of you!

Love, Papa Billy & Mimi

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He puts food on the table and clothes on my back I don’t know how I could pay him back But! that is why I have no fear because I know my dad is here

Love, Uncle T, Aunt Monte and Aiden

Cade Teeple

Congratulations! We are all very proud of you and Papaw Texas would be, too!

Third Place - Poetry Fifth Grade Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

Love, Tammy & Carsen

Love, Dad, Mamaw & Papaw

FIFTH GRADE - POETRY

FRIDAY, MAY 8, 2015

With God all things are possible.

Matthew 19:26. We are so proud of you, Grace!

Mr. John & Ms. Nikki, Maddie, John Paul & Ruthie

Congratulations, Grace! We are proud of you.

Randy, Alicia, Allison, Jacob, Hank, Audrey, Adam & Jeb

Johnny Evans

Second Place - Poetry Fifth Grade Rankin Elementary School

Hero

Report Cards

Report cards report cards One for me and you.

They inform your parent How bad you do.

For when you open it You are very shocked.

For in that card You could be mocked.

Oh, my!

You can’t resist.

To tell your mom How much you missed.

Oh, don’t worry I’ll be fine.

For I’ll pull it up Maybe sometime.

FIFTH GRADE - NARRATIVE / ESSAY

My hero is my dad everyday he makes me glad even if I am full of sorrow he reminds me there is always tomorrow

Crosby Clayton

He is like my Superman he picks me up when I fall in the sand

A Painful Vacation

He comforts me when there are monsters under my bed and gives me a band-aid when I hit my head

First Place - Narrative/Essay Fifth Grade Lawhon Elementary School

Vacations are usually for fun, but mine…not so much! My beach trip was off to a great start. I had just stepped out onto the smooth, warm sand at Lulu’s to have a seafood dinner. MY FAVORITE! We were playing around the sand waiting to be seated. We walked curiously over to a large, round pool filled with water and human sized “hamster balls.” My Dad, the fun parent, decided to

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spend way too much money for us to give it a whirl. My brother, Weston, hopped into the first plastic ball. They gave him a hard shove into the water. SPLASH! The water rippled as he rolled in. I rolled in right behind him. Before we knew it, our ten minutes was up…and my Dad’s fifteen dollars - gone in a flash. All of a sudden, WHAM! My ear began to profusely hurt. That night back at our condo, I walked the floors with a warm cloth attached to my ear all night. I managed to get about two hours of sleep. The next owning I woke up just at sunrise and sat on the balcony of our condo. I watched the beautiful blend of colors rise from beneath the sky. Still in a lot of pain with which was no doubt swimmers’ ear, my parents decided it would be best to take me to a doctor. My mom and I drove around the unfamiliar town looking for a doctor’s office.

We finally found one, so we decided to try it out. We sat down in the germy waiting room and watched the clock spin forever and a day. After three long hours, we finally were placed in a room. Moments later the doctor came in to examine my ear. He left the room and came back with a bowl of water and a syringe with a small tiny tube attached to the end of it. He said, “All I am going to do is flush your ear out with water.” After about twenty times of him flushing my ear out with water, my ear began to throb. He sent the syringe with us to continue to flush out my ear. For the next several days, my ear continued to get worse. Everyone enjoyed the rest of the week at the beach while I remained in great pain… and oh, did I mention a fever to go with the pain? I sat in the car for the long, six hour drive home, hurting, throbbing, and aching. When we got home, I had to go to another doctor to finally get some help. Dr. Berry put an ear wick in my ear to allow the drops to heal it. FINALLY! I got some relief. I think I deserve a redo!

Dailee Frans

Second Place - Narrative/Essay Fifth Grade Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

Weekends at the Lake When we’re in the car on the way to the lake I always watch outside the car window. It always seems mesmerizing to watch the trees and the leaves the car blows as it goes by. Everything seems different at the lake. Flowers seem happier, and the trees wave at us with their branches swaying in the breeze. When we finally get to the house and open the door, I breathe in the smell of nature, the smell of family, and the smell of happiness. It seems like the squirrels always come to greet us by climbing down the tall Dogwood trees. If you have never been to the lake and have never seen the water, you will probably not be pleased by the brown color. You would probably wish you

were at the beach, sitting by the white sand and swimming in the blue ocean, but my beach is the lake. The brown dirt under my bare feet is just like the white sand you find at the beach. I would rather be swimming in the homey lake than swimming in the crystal waters. At the end of the day when I’m so tired because I’ve been swimming and splashing, I normally just stare at the sunset. I smell the clean air and listen to the birds chirping. At night I love catching fireflies and watching them glow in my hand. When my parents tell me it’s time for bed, I say o.k. and obey. At home I probably would have argued saying it wasn’t late, but since I’m at the lake, I don’t know what lies ahead for tomorrow. So, I fall asleep dreaming about what tomorrow might bring.

Kelly Coggin

Third Place - Narrative/Essay Fifth Grade Rankin Elementary School

Powers There was a girl named Amber. She was the most popular girl at her school, but she had one secret no one knew about. Amber had a magic power that was stronger than anything you could ever imagine. It was fire.

You see, the only time she used her power was when she was sad, angry, happy, or embarrassed. Amber never really used her power except when she was alone, which was a lot because having a power meant you had to stay home alone. She had one brother that was her age, and he was the only one who knew about the fire. His name was Brandon, and he had fire power too.

One normal day, Brandon had a friend come over.

Amber was walking around and saw him. She was quite startled to see someone else in the house, so she went to introduce herself. Brandon introduced them. “Amber, Jace.

Jace, Amber.” After talking a bit, Brandon finally told Amber that Jace had a power too. “He does?” She was surprised. Most people didn’t have powers.

“Then, what are we waiting for? Let’s go!” Amber screamed.

The three kids walked together to a small room mode for them to practice their powers. Jace decided to show them his power first. Both kids were surprised he had water powers. It was so cool watching water float around and just circle your head. After having lots of fun using powers, Jace went home.

Amber woke up the next morning and got ready for school. She made it to class as the bell rang. After class she saw someone bullying a kid. She hated it when people bullied. It was for no reason. She got really angry. She tried to calm herself down so no fire would come. It worked. Then, more kids started to bully her. By then she had had it, so she went up to the bully, and fire just start-

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ed to form in her hands. It was very small, and no one really saw it but one person. Amber looked over and saw Jace coming up to her holding an empty cup. He simply dropped the cup beside her and moved some water to stop the fire coming from her hands. The water that landed on the floor looked like it was from the cup. “Thanks.

Sometimes I don’t know when it will happen.” He laughed, and they went to tell a teacher about the bullying.

At lunch, all kinds of popular boys tried to get her to sit with them. Each time she said no and went with her brother and Jace. Then the kid that was being bullied walked up and gave Amber a hug. At first she was startled. Then she heard a small whisper saying, “Thanks.”

She was really happy about the girl, and she hugged her back. Amber was happy that day. She made a new friend and could count on someone to always help her when she is mad.

We are so proud of you.

Always follow your dreams!

Love, Mom, Dad, Mimi & Poppop, Grandma & Papaw

SIXTH GRADE - POETRY Sadie Reid

First Place - Poetry Sixth Grade Milam Elementary School

Writer’s Block I have been troubled lately By that pesky Writer’s block.

I often times can think in rhymes So this was quite a shock!

I thought about birds Tried to write about drums But my thinking factory Was dried up and numb.

The time to test my poems Was drawing ever near But my concentration flew quickly Said “I’m getting out of here!”

I wanted to try to hide it.

Pretend it would not save.

But no one would buy it.

And I’d have dug my grave.

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And so I wrote about it.

I would play along.

Procrastination Is why it took this long.

Congratulations!

We are so proud of our poet!

Love, Daddy, Mama & JC

Molly Billingsley Second Place - Poetry Sixth Grade Milam Elementary School

My Memory Poem Crying and sobbing is what I heard Like a child who lost its lollipop As I greeted visitors All I could think about was him As I sat in the chair I visualized all the good times I spent with my granddad And it was all I could Boom! Went my heartbeat As I tried to control my tears At that moment I was three Sitting on my mom’s lap and crying I couldn’t bear to visualize What it would be like without him A part of me was lost Just like a flower who lost its petals To this day I can’t stop Bursting out crying in public Missing him so much A part of me is gone

Ryan Webb

Third Place - Poetry Sixth Grade Mooreville Middle School

Life is a Ball I’m heading for my school’s gym door Anxious to get inside on the hardwood floor.

The team runs out, orange ball in hand And fans go wild up in the stands.

The referees go over all the rules To the chosen captains from each school.

At half court, I’ll jump the ball Hoping for the tip, because I’m so tall.

Four, eight minute quarters determine a loss or a win My team’s psyched up as the game begins.

Coach is hollering from the side Stop the mistakes, play with pride.

We dribble, we rebound, we shoot, we score We have to keep pushing, we really need more.

We’re two points behind - time is ticking away Coach shakes his head, nothing left to say.

All of a sudden, we get a steal We brought the ball down with great speed and sheer will.

Our point guard shot a three, no time to regret No worries, the ball hit nothing but net.

The buzzer sounded, we won the game The team enjoyed our moment of fame.

SIXTH GRADE - NARRATIVE / ESSAY Jordyn Smith

First Place - Narrative/Essay Sixth Grade Milam Elementary School

The House of Mysteries There once was a house in the middle of what seemed to be the perfect neighborhood. It held many mysteries that the people of the small town Halloway Creek thought might never be solved. Legend had it if you listened closely at exactly 12:49 a.m., you could hear three little girls named Charlotte, Grace, and Dorothy screaming for someone to save them. The owner of this house of mysteries was Mrs. Frances Hank who also happened to have no record of her history on file. There was a rumor that she had one of her demon assistants to destroy her file so that no one could ever find out the truth about her. Of course this was just a rumor, or so we thought.

It was a Monday in April of 1973 when three little girls went missing - seven year olds Charlotte Reat and Grace Parks, and eight year old Dorothy Plunkett. They were walking home from school together. Later the parents of the three girls noticed that they never made it home. People claim to have seen Mrs. Hank reel them in with her powers and trap them in an unbreakable chamber full of the skeletons of the other children who went missing from the neighborhood. So far, no one has been

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brave enough to take the information to the judge for the fear that the judge will not believe them and Mrs. Hank will capture them too for trying to expose her secret.

Fifty days passed, and there was still no real evidence that Mrs. Hank had captured the three girls. In fact, there was no evidence that the three girls ever existed. The only thing that remains of the three girls is the memories that remain in the minds of their family and friends. The records of all three girls had mysteriously disappeared within the same time window, just like how they disappeared while walking home together. The investigators are still trying to put together the pieces of the puzzle of this mystery to this very day. Since then, there have been four more kidnappings that have had similar circumstances. Luckily, Mrs. Hank was arrested for shoplifting, and since then there have been no more kidnappings in Halloway Creek.

Congratulations JoJo! We couldn’t be more proud of you! You never cease to amaze and inspire us. we love you so much!

Love, Momma, Daddy, Jax, Nana and Papaw

Ann Lindsey Bolton

Second Place - Narrative/Essay Sixth Grade Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

Roger’s Big Adventure Once there was a man named Roger. He lived in Happyville. Roger was fixing his house up because there was going to be an earthquake that night. When he was done, Roger went to bed. He slept like a rock. When Roger woke up, he turned on the news, but all they were talking about was a house that got sucked up into the ground. Roger was so curious he tried to call someone about it, but the phone wouldn’t work. Later Roger decided to go outside. When he opened the door, it was covered with a wall of dirt. He then realized it was his house that got sucked underground. At first he freaked out, but then he realized he needed to try to find a way up. After hours and hours, he decided the only way to get up was to dig. So he dug for hours and hours. Day after day he would dig. On his way up he found lots of gold. Finally, Roger made it to the surface. There was only one problem.

He was in China. Roger was too tired to care, so he fell asleep right there. When he woke up, Roger bought a plane ticket and came home. When he got to Happyville, reporters were all over him. Once it settled down, he went on a walk to where his house used to be and a head

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popped up through the ground. It was a very confused Chinese man. Roger realized the man must have fallen in the hole he had dug and fell all the way to Happyville. The end.

At twelve fifteen On a Wednesday afternoon A snow storm began Not a moment too soon.

Madison Thompson

I dressed in my snow suit And warm winter wear.

My toasty attire Helped me brave the chilly air.

Just a Dream

I ran outside to enjoy the fun As the tiny white flakes Weren’t close to being done.

Third Place - Narrative/Essay Sixth Grade Guntown Middle School

It’s six o’clock, way past the time I’m supposed to get up. So I’m already in a rush. I get up, feed my dog, and I eat breakfast. After I finish my breakfast, I brush my hair and my teeth. Next, I get dressed. I’m wearing a pink dress with floral designs on it and some silver sandals my cousin gave to me. I’m currently going outside to get on the school bus, and I happen to step in a big pile of mud.

At this time I’m freaking out because I have to go and clean my shoes off. When I go inside, I find my dog chewing up my favorite stuffed animal in the world, Scruffie. I chase her round and round with mud on my shoes, and I finally get her. I go to put her up. I realize there is mud all over the carpet, so first I have to clean my shoes then the carpet. Now I’m nearly an hour late. I need to call my dad because I missed the bus. He comes to get me and takes me to school. Now I’m in my first period class, band. I notice I left my instrument. So today I get a zero. It’s nearly ten seconds till the bell rings. Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, and one. The bell rings. The bell ringing is my alarm, and it’s all a dream. Just a dream.

“I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.” (Phil. 4:13) We are so proud of you, Madison!

Love, Daddy, Mama, and Taylor

SEVENTH GRADE - POETRY Abby Spires

First Place - Poetry Seventh Grade Tupelo Middle School

Mississippi Snow

Snowmen were made And snowballs were thrown.

The lovely white crystals Became my very own.

I couldn’t believe That so much snow Was falling and sticking In Tupelo.

“Mississippi!” I said.

It just seemed untrue.

I was used to clear skies That were sunny and blue.

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Or to be the mouse, And scrounge for food all day.

Oh to be the ant, And work very hard.

Or to be the butterfly, Fluttering in the yard.

Oh to be the platypus, Something really unique.

Or to be a fancy poodle And be magnifique.

Or to be the rhino, Strong as an oak tree.

Or to be the snake, And slither on my belly.

Oh to be the giraffe, And stand straight and tall.

Or to be the jellyfish And stand up, not at all.

Oh to be the monkey, And be silly all of the time.

Or to be the lion, And the jungle will be mine.

Or to be myself, I’m as happy as can be.

It was really pretty silly, To want to be anything, but me.

Anna Jewel Clayton

Second Place Tie - Poetry Seventh Grade Guntown Middle School

As the sky became dark, It was time to come in.

So I drank some hot cocoa To get warm again.

It was such a great day, With lots of fun memories.

Now I’m wishing For more snow for you and me.

Mary Blake Brashier

Second Place Tie - Poetry Seventh Grade Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

Oh To Be Oh to be the fox, Cunning as can be.

Or to be the raccoon, No one is sneakier than he.

Oh to be the cow, And eat and eat all day.

New Kid My face is throbbing My ribs are bruised My feelings are hurt I had only wished To be your friend When you called me the Grinch You broke my spirit When you slapped my face My tears could flow more I walk through the halls Hearing whispers of me You hit the books out of my hand And I couldn’t take it I ran to the bathroom I cried my eyes out To hear a kind voice Made the rain

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2015 YOUTH CELEBRATION OF WRITING CONTEST

Go away

openly admit that I am torture.

Maybe because it looks pretty from the seats surrounding the stage.

Maybe because it earned them more enthusiastic applause from an audience, more beautiful flowers from loved ones.

Or could it possibly be because no matter how bad I hurt them, they love it? And are rewarded simply by dancing atop me?

Because the thrill and joy makes up for any sore toes or aching blisters they’d get? Any exhausted muscles or cramping feet?

Because it brings them a greater feeling of pride and accomplishment when they master a hard step they couldn’t do before?

Because it’s their escape, their passion, their motivation, their life?

They hate me. But they wear me anyway.

Maybe being the new kid Isn’t so bad

Sarah Beth Stewart Third Place Tie - Poetry Seventh Grade Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

Homeless Under the dark, monochromatic sky A girl sat with her only meal that day.

A boy placed a towel over his head as protection from the rain.

A woman cries because she cannot have children, she would only pass on her own misfortune.

While we sit and eat of boredom, the foods of which these people dream.

They search for food in trash cans, until their tears subside and they sleep.

Though they will repeat the cycle tomorrow, They find peace and comfort in their dreams.

Congratulations, Sarah Beth!

We are so proud of you!

Love, your family

SEVENTH - NARRATIVE / ESSAY Erin Matthews

First Place - Narrative/Essay Seventh Grade Tupelo Middle School

College Move In

I heard the last box being taped as we loaded boxes into the car. It was the day my sister moved into her college dorm. My sister, Allie, had mixed feelings about moving, but she mostly was ready to leave. My mom and I got into the car and we were about to head toward Starkville Alyssa Brohawn to help set up her dorm. Allie said a quick goodbye as she got into her car and got a head start heading toward Third Place Tie - Poetry Starkville.

Seventh Grade My mom started the car as she asked me, “How do Tupelo Middle School you feel about the whole sister-leaving-you thing?”

I replied, “I don’t really care as long as I get a room.”

Dedication My mom chuckled until she realized that I was serious.

She said, “So you really don’t care, huh?” I shook my They sew me and stitch me. head for no as the answer. Thirty minutes passed as we They tie me and untie me. finally pulled into Hull Hall.

They bend me and break me.

My sister greeted us as we walked into her dorm They wear me and tear me. room. She said, “So, this is the room I’ll be leaving you for, They limber my shank and push over my box.

Erin.”

They jump on me and stumble over me.

I laughed and said,”Good. At least you’re leaving.”

They throw me around as if I don’t care, and then tell me She looked back at me and said, “Whatever. You’re I cause them pain. just jealous!” Then I chased her around her empty dorm They tell me I’m impossible to dance in, so much harder room until her roommate came in. than all the others, the worst thing in the world.

My sister greeted her, and so did my mom. Then, we “Not the pointe shoes!” they whine. “I hate them!” started to unpack, organize, and decorate Allie’s dorm, I’m not sure why they choose to put me on when they so when suddenly something hit me. I wasn’t going to spend

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everyday with Allie anymore. We weren’t going to joke around and fight all the time. For seven years, my life-long best friend wouldn’t be with me. I actually would miss her.

I started to tear up, but sucked it in as my mom came toward me.

“Hey, are you ready to leave?” she asked.

“Yeah!” I replied, but truly I wasn’t ready to leave. I wasn’t ready to leave Allie. I hadn’t told anyone about my feelings, and now they were pouring out.

“Actually, no. I’m not ready yet. Can I say goodbye?”

I said.

“Of course…” my mom replied, then winked at me, and left the room. She had already said her goodbyes, so she left to get the car ready. I ran up to Allie and gave her a hug.

“I’ll mis you, dork,” she said.

“I’ll miss you too.” I said while sniffling back my tears.

I walked out of her dorm with a smile as I got into my mom’s car. She asked, “How did it go?”

“Normal. I told her I was taking her room and to -“ I said until my mom cut me off mid-sentence.

“You’ll miss her, won’t you?” I nodded slowly as we pulled out and headed home.

Trevor Hart

Second Place - Narrative/Essay Seventh Grade Tupelo Middle School

Katherine and the Witch Doctor’s Cure Once upon a time, in a small village, lived a middleaged woman named Katherine, and her son, Jonah, who was thirteen. The boy’s father had died from a terminal illness that ran in his family. Katherine feared that her son, whom she loved very much, had the same disease. He had shown the early symptoms of the sickness. He had excessive hiccuping, pale skin, and frizzy hair.

Jonah’s mother had heard of a sort of witch doctor that lived just inside the woods. It was believed that this doctor could cure any ailment. A few days after Jonah started showing symptoms, she went to the witch doctor.

When Katherine entered the house, she saw one wall with wooden shelves on it. Each one held different shapes of vials, and inside the vials were bubbling liquids of different colors. Some had warning labels plastered on them, and some were chipped around the top. On the other side were books. There were hundreds, maybe even thousands, and they all looked ancient. Standing in the back, over a cauldron, mumbling weird words to herself, stood the witch doctor. When the door shut behind Katherine, the witch doctor whirled around, and Katherine couldn’t help but jump. The doctor was quite a sight. Under her stained, once-white apron, the woman wore a dress that seemed

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| FRIDAY, MAY 8, 2015

to have been made of several drapes layered over each other, each one about a hundred years old. The ends were torn and fringed, and some parts of her ensemble had burn marks and tears in them. Katherine couldn’t see the witch doctor’s feet, which was probably a good thing, but if they looked anything like the rest of her skin, they were leathery and slightly yellow. Her hair was long and stringy, and some leaves had lodged their way into her mane.

When the witch doctor saw Katherine, she stamped the ground with her foot and ran up to Katherine. One of her claw-like hands went up to Katherine’s face, tracing around her cheekbones and chin. The doctor’s fingernails had not been cut, nor cleaned, in quite some time.

“What is it you wish, dearie?” The witch said, a voice that sounded like nails on a chalkboard.

“The, um, the villagers call you a witch doctor…They say you can cure any disease. I was hoping you could help me with my son,” Katherine said quietly.

“Well, of course I can, sweetie!” the witch said.

Katherine was starting to wonder if she used these pet names ironically or if she really was a sweet person. The witch turned around and had a certain sharpness in her voice. “But I don’t do charity cases, lady! It’ll cost you!

What are the boy’s symptoms?”

“What’s the cost?” Katherine asked, even quieter than the last time she spoke.

“I give you the cure. Then you pay up.” The doctor said harshly. She definitely wasn’t just a sweet person.

“He has, um, hiccuping…frizzed hair, and a pale face.

His father had this disease too, and he died.” Katherine said.

“Ahh, I know just the potion. She flicked her wrist and one book flew out of the hundreds and landed on the table in front of her. She flicked her wrist, and it turned to a certain page. “Yes, I know exactly what I need.” She waved her hand at the shelves of vials and four of the vials picked up and floated over the cauldron, pouring themselves in. The doctor stirred the potion and then grabbed an empty vial and dipped it into the cauldron, filling it up with the purple-pink potion in the pot. “Give this to him.

He drinks all of it, or healthy he’s not. Now, we have the

2015 YOUTH CELEBRATION OF WRITING CONTEST chance to discuss the subject of payment. You give me what I want, or your son doesn’t stand a chance. If you go a little further in the wood, there is a bridge that is guarded by trolls, and hanging from the bridge is a key. It’s bright and shiny and gold and you can’t miss it. The trolls stole it from me a long time ago, and if you get it back, I’ll give you the potion. Key. Potion. Simple.”

Katherine nodded her head in understanding. Even though she really didn’t understand anything at all, she nodded her head. She was still in shock. She saw vials and books flying around, and now there were trolls? She backed away and opened the door, walking down the path of the wood. She kept walking, and she came to a fork in the path Great, she thought, Which way do I g— What is that?

Katherine cocked her head to the left and heard loud snoring from the left path. She followed the snoring and saw the bridge, with two big, sleeping trolls sitting in front of it. Katherine said a prayer that they were deep sleepers and ran up the bridge to grab the key. She got the key and put it in her satchel, and as she walked down the bridge, a board she had stepped on let out a long and loud creak.

“Huh?” One troll perked up and turned around, seeing Katherine trying to sneak away. He punched the other troll in the side , and they stood up and lunged at her. She side-stepped and they smacked heads, passed out, and crushed the bridge in the process. She ran off and knocked on the door of the witch’s house once more.

“Come in, dearie!” The witch doctor called from inside. They walked toward each other and exchanged the items. Katherine was too freaked out to say or do anything, so she took the potion and ran out the door.

“Rude! Don’t even say thank you?” The witch called after her. Katherine got back to the village and entered her home to see Jonah lying in his bed. The fourth symptom, coldness, had obviously taken effect. He had every quilt and blanket in the house on his bed. She went to his side and gave him the potion.

“Drink this. It will make you better!” She said happily. He drank the potion, and the frizziness of his hair went down, he wasn’t hiccuping, the color came back to

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his skin, and he threw the blanket off of his bed. Jonah got up and hugged his mother, and they lived happily ever after.

Congratulations, Trevor!

We are so proud of you!

Mom, Dad, Heather & Alex

Clare Roberson

Third Place - Narrative/Essay Seventh Grade Guntown Middle School

Taking the Oregon Trail The way things were during the Oregon Trail differ greatly from the way things are now. It is very difficult to picture what they went through, but this may help. Picture this…

You are a settler who doesn’t have a lot. Then you hear about gold in the west. Many have already left. If you’re going, you have to leave soon. So you spend two weeks preparing for this trip. This could be the opportunity of a lifetime. You only pack you main priorities.

Everything else is sold. You take all that you’ve packed, and you leave. The trip that lies ahead of you will take about a couple of weeks considering that you are using wagons.

The beginning of your trips pretty uneventful. After a while, you begin to notice all the differences in the land.

You aren’t familiar with the climate, vegetation, or animal species.

A storm hits. The land is slippery, and you’re afraid the oxen might be wounded or turn the wagons over. So you wait. This could ruin the entire journey and in the long run, your life. You didn’t just leave to go on a trip. You’d sold

907 Varsity Drive • 662.842.3342

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your house, your land, and moved on. There was no way to turn back now. The storm lasts for two days. Now you have less food, and you’re behind on your plan. Although it may not seem like a big deal, you must remember that you only packed enough to get you to California. If you don’t have enough, you won’t survive. There aren’t any rest stops. One set back that seems to be minor, can turn out to be life threatening. You have to make it to the town.

You finally arrive, but you have nothing. You eventually find gold and are soon thriving. In conclusion, although we don’t know what it was like to ride the Oregon Trail, we can still learn a lot from it. They went through much to make a better lie for them and their families. There were no guarantees. They were still willing to travel thousands of miles to get something that they desperately wanted. They didn’t have all that we have today.

It was so much harder, and many didn’t make it, but if there was any chance that they could have a better life, then they were going to take that chance. Let’s think for a second about if they hadn’t decided to make the journey.

If no one made the trip, America wouldn’t own the west.

What if they had sold the land to neighboring countries?

What if the Indians had taken over the land and kept it?

There are so many things that could have happened differently. So, not only is it inspiring that they would pack up their lives to make a better one, it changed history. So being that the Oregon Trail was part of history, I feel that it is also a big part of America.

Great job Clare Bear!!!

We are all so proud of you!!

FRIDAY, MAY 8, 2015

Second Place - Poetry Eighth Grade Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

First Place - Poetry Eighth Grade Tupelo Middle School

Calling All Parents

Say Hi to Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn.

Visit with people and places they’ve been.

Learn about people from far away lands.

From Brazilian Tropics to hot Desert Sands.

From the Solar System to the Earth’s core, So many places to see and explore.

Famous mothers and daughters, fathers and sons Read about their lives, get to know each one.

Sink down in the cushions, listen and look These adventures are yours when you open a book.

Ask them questions: what, when, where, and who Interact with your child, set aside time each day.

You can read, you can listen, or go outside and play.

With you as their guide, you can show them the way.

Their tomorrows will be brighter, Because you shared today!!

Love, Daddy, Mama, Guy and Wes

EIGHTH GRADE - POETRY

15

Sarah Ryann Fortner

Taylor Hughes

Calling all parents, please hear my plea!

Calling all parents, please listen to me!

Gather your children close to your side And begin an adventure with you as their guide.

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Veterans Park As I walk through the park On a bright sunny day I stare at the flags And hear the stories they say They tell stories of people And places unknown The horrors that happened there Are not shown The battles were fought On land, sea, and air Victory was sought From almost everywhere Some soldiers returned But they were never the same However, most were happy Just to see another day They saw destruction and damage And death all around Some still flinch At even the quietest sound They saw things out there You wouldn’t begin to believe Watching their comrades fall They were scared to breathe So thank you to all Who served like they did

Who Will Be Our Next

John Grisham?

Come by Reed’s GumTree Bookstore to see the winning entries of the GumTree Writing Contest.

Congratulations to our young writers!

Reed’s GumTree Bookstore Historic Downtown Tupelo 842-6453 • www.reedsms.com Where Writers and Readers Meet in Tupelo

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2015 YOUTH CELEBRATION OF WRITING CONTEST

DAILY JOURNAL

2015 YOUTH CELEBRATION OF WRITING CONTEST

| FRIDAY, MAY 8, 2015

We honor you greatly As we continue to live

Zykeria Fair

Third Place - Poetry Eighth Grade Tupelo Middle School

Mrs. Johnson You’re the heart of every classroom The soul of every school.

The mind behind the message That learning is cool.

Your patience and understanding Can not be understood.

Your courage and commitment Is a day to rejoice.

Because of you we will have our own voice.

So I say thank you Mrs. Johnson For passing your knowledge to us.

I knew the first day you came I could see the fear But I just want to thank you for everything You taught me this year.

Lemon Lad gave the boy his money, and it seemed like success. Then, out of the corner of his eye he saw something.

It was ten baguette wielding miscreants coming his way.

Lemon Lad tried to fight them off, but he lost.

He limped home in shame. He wasn’t cut out to be a superhero, and he decided to give up. He bought a lemon at the fruit stand and took a big bite out of it, but he felt queasy. He stumbled into an alleyway and started to float.

The searing pain shot through his whole body, and he fell to the pavement. When he looked around, he noticed there was lemon juice everywhere. He decided he was hallucinating and hurried home. While he was climbing into his window, he slipped and fell. But suddenly he stopped falling. He realized that his foot stuck to the wall. He could stick to walls. He walked up the building without breaking a sweat. Then he realized that he could shoot lemon juice out of the knuckles of his hands. He also discovered that he had super strength and agility. He was finally ready to take on the baguette guys.

He jumped, crawled, and ran to the baguette headquarters and good down every goon in there. As he walked away in victory, he thought he heard someone call his name. He turned to see the Bread Brothers, the most notorious villains in town. It was a struggle and he was completely exhausted, but Slimmen beat the Bread Brothers, keeping New York safe from crime.

Jacob Payne

EIGHTH GRADE - NARRATIVE / ESSAY

Second Place - Narrative/Essay Eighth Grade Guntown Middle School

Waves Leland Counce

First Place - Narrative/Essay Eighth Grade Tupelo Middle School

Lemon Lad: an Origin There once was a boy neared Slimmen. Slimmen had a strange obsession with lemons, and he had an abnormal amount of body hair. This is why Slimmen never got any friends. But one day Slimmen decided that he would fight crime as Lemon Lad. He hollowed out the largest lemon he could find, poked eyeholes in it, and wore it as a mask.

He then became a master of Lee-Mon-Do, an ancient form of lemon fighting.

After the sunset that night, Lemon Lad crawled out his third story window, fell to the alley below, and set off to search for crime. “AHHHHHH NO DON’T STEAL MY MONEY, THIEF!!!” screamed a little boy two blocks over.

Lemon Lad parked at the building, jumped on the roof, and hit the thief with a well executed karate kick to the face.

Sun beat down on him and waves lapped around his ankles in a rhythmic pattern. The cries of gulls surrounded him. Slowly opening his eyes and drinking in his surroundings, it almost seemed like a vacation until the searing pain in his ribs slammed him back to the ground. The pain brought tears to his eyes, even rolling over seemed to take all of what minuscule strength he had. Looking around him, feelings of dread shrouded his mind. It came back to him; the screech of steel, the Pacific rising above the deck, taking the entire vessel with her. He slowly raised himself to a standing position. A hand to his forehead, he scanned the open blue world around. Nothing but miles and miles of sea surrounded him, giving him a sense of pure hopelessness. He turned around, a burning pain in his ribs returning. Nothing but sand and jungle was ahead of him. Palm trees carelessly waved side to side, throwing distorted shadows across the burning white sand. He stumbled across the sand, a left arm wrapped around his ribs, careful not to apply pressure.

Finally breaking into the thick layer of jungle, it seemed as if it created an almost alien world. The air became heavy

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and humid, and breathing seemed near impossible.

Macaws soared through the canopy above him, leaving nothing but a falling feather and a beautiful red glare. He sat down, carefully lowering himself. Warm tears began to crest over his cheek bones. How was he supposed to get home when he barely even remembered what happened?

Congratulations, Jacob!

We are very proud of you!

Love, Mom, Dad, Anna Kate, Mamaw and Papaw

Leah Timmons

Third Place - Narrative/Essay Eighth Grade Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

Walking on Thin Ice I look around at the snowy, white landscape. I can not even see the small cabin from here. I search for my path as the sun begins to set behind me. I had been out earlier searching for my dog, Spirit, that ran away last night. The snow begins to fall faster as I start the severalmile journey back to my house. As the sun dipped beyond the horizon, the temperature began to steadily drop. As the wind began to pick up, the night began to seem even colder. I began to shiver through my heavy, winter coat I was wearing. I look at my watch; it is already 8:30. My mother would have started to worry by now. I continue to walk as the minutes turn into hours. The snow is beginning to collect in my boots, soaking my feet. The icy wind has sped up even more, freezing me to the core. I walk out of the dense forest I can see is open and barren land. I do not recognize where I am, but up ahead I see a warm glow coming from a cabin in front of me. I begin walking across the area, and am about half way across when I hear a sound that instantly terrifies me…cracking ice. I look down only to just now realize I have been walking across a frozen lake. The cracks in the ice begin to spread rapidly as I take off running, but the cracks catch up to me. I fall through the ice into the icy cold water below. I struggle as the water begins to seep into my clothes. As the water-soaked coat begins to weigh me down, I fight even harder as adrenaline rushes through my veins. I finally reach the surface as my lungs burn from the lack of oxygen. I slowly pull myself out onto the shore as I struggle to recover from the ordeal. I force myself to get up as the icy cold wind begins to freeze the water-soaked clothing to my body. I continue to walk as I slowly lose feeling, first in my hands, then in my feet. I slowly reach the cabin door as exhaustion sets in. I knock at the door, and it quickly opens. The only thing I can utter is “Please, help me,” as

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I collapse on the doorstep out of sheer exhaustion. Then, I feel nothing.

I wake up, warm and dry in my own house in front of a roaring fire. Unknown to me, I had walked up to my own house. I look up to see my mom. She runs over to me and hugs me. She says, “Don’t ever do that again.

I got so worried when you didn’t come back by 7:30.” I look up at her and ask, “Can we go to Florida for vacation this year?”

NINTH GRADE - POETRY Abby Hanby

First Place - Poetry Ninth Grade Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

It Is Finished Jesus of Nazareth came to the earth He was born into poverty, but of great worth He showed signs of miraculous power In His presence, demons would cower On Palm Sunday, He was adored by the people He drove out thieves by the temple’s steeple The Scribes and Pharisees wanted Him arrested They agreed to lie, and have Him tested All of these events were happening so fast Jesus ate supper with the Apostles; He knew it would be His last Then He went to the Garden of Gethsemane He prayed earnestly for what was about to be Judas Iscariot betrayed Him with a kiss on the cheek Jesus knew what would happen, yet He was not weak He was scourged and whipped, taken to Pilate The Pharisees turned the crowd into a riot Pilate gave Jesus to the Romans to die And the crowd kept yelling, “Crucify!”

People spat on Him while He carried His cross Mary followed at a distance, devastated at her loss A crown of thorns was shoved upon His head For the people of Earth, He continuously bled There were nails driven through His hands and feet He knew that soon, death He would meet He hung on that cross with His arms out wide It was for sinners that He voluntarily died He understood this was how it had to be In agony, He cried out, “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?”

He was betrayed; the disciples left Him behind Yet He died on a cross to save all of mankind As He hung on the cross, His pain never diminished After three hours, His last words were, “It is finished.”

Once He died, the people realized He was not a fraud A centurion said, “Surely this man was the Son of God.” He had no more blood, all of it He gave He was taken down from the cross and was placed in a grave Darkness came over the earth; everyone was scattered They did not know why His death mattered Mary came to the tomb on the third day An angel was there with the stone rolled away Instantly, she knew that Jesus was not dead “Jesus has arisen!” she excitedly said Some believed He arose, and others were deceived Jesus said, “Blessed are they who have not seen, yet believe.”

He defeated all of the sins we have ever done He fought against Satan, and with the power of God, He won He arose, no more was He dead He went back to heaven with a crown on His head His death and resurrection served a definite purpose We are not good enough; we are worthless Because Jesus died, and because God is not a liar We do not have to spend eternity in the lake of fire On the cross, Jesus showed all the love in His heart Once in heaven, nothing will ever set us apart If we have His blood, we avoid eternal hate Jesus went to heaven to open the gate Love motivated Him through his pain His love and mercy fall like rain Never lose hope, and never despair Jesus’s death and resurrection show that He really does care

Wilkes Crosthwait

Second Place - Poetry Ninth Grade Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

Legacy Life will come Life will go Darkness will hide Light will glow Be right with everyone before it is too late Die with love rather than hate Treat every second as if it were your last Because sand is running out in the hour glass Help the earth make progress Find an answer rather than a guess Do not live in the past for it is gone And today is fresh like a new dawn Time is limited But the possibilities can not be ended

FRIDAY, MAY 8, 2015

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While you are alive, your name will thrive But once you are gone, it will merely survive Some will make foes, some will make brothers It depends on how one’s name is interpreted by others

Gavin Adams

Third Place - Poetry Ninth Grade Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

My Love and Hate Dark green eyes, Bright golden hair, She is my Cinderella, So beautiful and fair.

I love her with all my heart, I would do anything for her, Except tell her how I feel, For she only sees me as a brother.

I’ve tried to forget her, Yet as if by fate, I only think of her more, This is the reason for my hate.

Why is it so hard, For love to be easy?

Does she not like me for me?

Could she think I’m lazy?

Would it be called irony, That my first date, Is not with my love, But with the feelings love and hate?

NINTH GRADE - NARRATIVE / ESSAY Karan Devould

First Place - Narrative/Essay Ninth Grade Tupelo High School

The Unknown Caller

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2015 YOUTH CELEBRATION OF WRITING CONTEST

DAILY JOURNAL

| FRIDAY, MAY 8, 2015

A married couple were going out for the evening and called in a teenage babysitter to take care of their three children. When she arrived, they told her they probably wouldn’t be back until late, and that the kids were already asleep so she didn’t wake them.

The babysitter starts doing her homework while waiting for a call from her boyfriend. After a while the phone rings. She answers it, but hears no one on the other end.

It’s just silence. Then, whoever it is hangs up. After a few more minutes, the phone rings again. She answers, and this time there’s a man on the line who says, in a chilling voice, “Have you checked the children?”

So in a nervous panic, she runs upstairs in fear that harm was upon the children. She then opened the door, pleased to see that nothing had happened to the children.

Kevin, the eldest son, woke up and asked her, “What’s all the fuss about?” Then, he closed his eyes and went to sleep. Lacy (the babysitter) closed the door and went back downstairs. Once again the phone rang, but this time Lacy didn’t answer. Then, a knock at the front door startled her.

She opened the door. She was happy to see it was her boyfriend, Michael.

Lacy told her boyfriend what happened. He laughed and said, “Lacy, if you’re going to tell me a joke, babe, make it funnier.” She was angered because everything she was saying was true. Later that night Lacy went to the bathroom. When she came back, she saw blood on the ground. Michael at this point was gone. She also noticed that he left everything on the couch. She tried to dial 911, but the phone wouldn’t connect, and her phone was dead.

She rushed upstairs and burst into the kids’ room. Kevin was nowhere to be seen! Lacy ran to the neighbor’s house. Nobody answered, so Lacy went back to the other house.

Kevin opened the door. He was covered in blood. At this point, Lacy was crying, unable to find help, and she was becoming overwhelmed. She tried to talk to Kevin, but he wouldn’t respond. She lay him on the couch and tied her scarf around his stomach to slow down the bleeding. All of a sudden, the phone rang again. She answered it. “It’s sad that little Kevin had to go through all that pain, isn’t it?” She screamed, “Who is this?” The phone went completely silent. Lacy didn’t hang up this time. She sat the phone on the couch. She went upstairs to see that the other kids were fine, or so she thought. She tip-toed over to the youngest one, Jeffrey, and tried to wake him up. But he didn’t wake up. In a slight panic, she ran over to Hannah’s bed. Still no response. Then all of a sudden, she got a cold, cruel feeling that a presence was in the room with her. Slowly, she began to turn around. Then, the lights went out. It was pitch black dark. She asked, “Who’s there?” Then a cold, deep voice said, “Hi, Lacy.”

In a blink of an eye, Lacy was dead with blood pouring out of her neck. The mystery of who killed the family, Lacy, and her boyfriend still remains, and no one will ever know.

2015 YOUTH CELEBRATION OF WRITING CONTEST

Katie Metts

Second Place - Narrative/Essay Ninth Grade Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

A Way We are the ones who have distorted the earth. That’s what I think as I standing a cleaning of wild grass. The shards peek up out of the earth, dancing in the breeze. On all sides, the clearing is surrounded by enormous oak trees, hard and strong. I can barely hear the gurgling of water in the distance, but it’s there, a faint bubbling, carried on the wings of the wind.

I start to run. The wildness and freedom and happiness jumping, leaping in my chest. Through the trees, I go, passing sound after beautiful sound - the crunch of leaves, the chirp of birds, the howl of wind.

The gushing of water pounding against rock grows louder, until I am right over it. The trees come to a stop as a cliff narrows out. A stream folds into the cliff, dropping to a lower part of ground. I look below the waterfall.

Rocks, like knots on a log, protrude from the water. The stream continues deep into the forest, snaking through curves, twists, and turns, growing bigger as the current quickens. It reflects the day of sky, and I tip my face upward, a smile spreading across my face. Clouds billow, huge and white, across the expanse of the sky. They remind me of a child, puffing up his chest.

As I bring my eyes back to the trees in the distance, I see that they abruptly stop. Beyond them are squares and rectangles, bounding their way into the air - a city. And just as the trees had stopped, I feel that my heart almost does.

I imagine the home of squirrels and birds thudding to the ground, just as rain drops to the earth. Thousands of creatures’ environments being taken away, only to build a different type of environment. Thousands of creatures killed, just so others could thrive. That is not freedom.

That is not joy. But it is a way. A way of life. Just as an owl eats a snake, and a snake eats a mouse, it is a way.

Askew and distorted, but a way.

I look back to the stream above the waterfall, as water sprouts and gushes over the edge of the cliff. With it, it drags stones and twigs of sticks, and I feel that I, too, should go with them. Leaping into the stream, the current grabs at my ankles. I close my eyes, but I see the world as it was before, not as it is now, with destruction. It is a beautiful and free thing, wild and gorgeous. I take a deep gasp of breath and leap. The wind whistles past me as I fall, or rather, I fly.

DAILY JOURNAL

Philippians 4:13 Thank you for sharing your creative mind!

Love, Mom, Dad, Marlee & Kody Jarod Reppert Third Place Narrative/Essay Ninth Grade Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

Voices Ever since the dawn of time, humans have had voices.

Voices to speak, voices to sing, and voices to hear. There are many voices that one may hear in certain places, some of joy and some of perpetual sadness. Most of the humans are clueless to what the voice may be able to accomplish.

Some curl up inside and do not pay attention to the outside world, some just being plain out scared of it. They don’t even try to make a change. But a dwindling few take stand and try to leave an artist’s mark in the world through their legacy. Some voices you might hear are not physical ones, but silent and coming from deeper inside, like a whisper in the misty wood. Most of the time, they are hidden from view amongst the other voices. Just beyond the voices that seem scary and loud, destiny sings the faint song of promise and truth. “But where do all these voices come from and why do they hide?” Well, that’s where I come in. I have been with you always. I’ve been there since your first heart beat in our mother’s womb. I was there for your first steps; always behind the husk they call a body. I am ever waiting, peering through eyes that blink, cry, and are on a quest, searching for an answer. I am you, who you really are. I am what you are called to be. The reason my voice is hidden from you is not my fault. It is yours. You have been filling your beautiful and limitless mind with the loud voices from the world outside; most saying false things about what is good and healthy for your public standing. “You would be prettier if you starved yourself and you dressed to show off your body,” and “ You will be more popular if you play sports and do stuff that harms yourself.” These are just a minuscule sample of the lies and garbage you allow in from the world outside.

Take time to listen to yourself and organize the right and wrong. Then go deeper inside to find who you really are.

I already know. I’m just waiting to be discovered….

God has blessed you with so many talents, writing being one of them. We are extremely proud of all that you have accomplished already and see much more writing in your future. You

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have such a way of painting a picture with your words, at times, we are in awe. We love you so much! Keep on writing and using your talents for God! Love, Mom & Dad

Paul Saval

Second Place - Poetry Tenth Grade Tupelo High School

The Nature of Humans

FRIDAY, MAY 8, 2015

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Tells of a greatness bound by no time.

We are the champions, the purging redeemers.

We are the warriors of faithful believers.

We have come for a purpose of passion, To purge the lies and battle oppression!

(This poem should be read down We speak of the strength in courage and undying love, first, and then read back up.)

Or perhaps it’s the faith we find in the God above.

Humans are selfish, and evil Our battle cry rings of a valiant proof: and I cannot accept that For justice! For freedom! For loyalty! For truth!

Peace can be found between us The idea may seem hard to comprehend, but Till our dying breath we will justly proclaim When faced with injustice That there is power in a righteous name.

People will fight Emma Gousset Nothing, and First Place - Poetry But the Righteous are rare and spread too thin, Humans will buckle under Tenth Grade For the world has been lost in man’s deepest sins.

Oppression Tupelo High School No one can believe in Such darkness, such evil greed, Supporting one another is important Such sadness brought forth from one tiny seed!

Money Mr. Turner is worth more than To have yourself in lies condemn, Selflessness I enter the door that I exited ten months prior, And break your will and diadem.

I assure you that taking heed of the cozy couch and the crackling fire.

There will be no love lost between our descendants A comparable fire warmed my heart less than a year ago, Professionals say But behind these walls of marbly frost, as the wind dusted the ground with shimmering white Past the places of innocence lost, In years to come we will lack compassion snow.

No longer can it be said that I rounded the corner, heading towards her hall, There’s such a conviction, a holy desire: “Love, and unity” will be the norm but I remember that it isn’t really hers at all.

An idea full of passionate fire! will be a whisper of days past, and New ailments occupy these familiar rooms, “Evil will reign supreme” bringing new families and stories, who will depart soon. The idea that An idea that this life is worth living and going through, One room in particular, room number twenty-two There’s a method to this madness that has convicted you.

People will stand together holds a man with a story that makes my thoughts brew. The future will be hopeless He beckons me in with his sandpaper voice Call this insanity of a blind man seeing, It is ignorant to think that that draws my feet closer and leaves me no choice.

A purpose to your life and to have a meaning.

There is true happiness “Call me Mr. Turner,” he says, sporting a grin; I concede that his blue eyes fix on me, and he starts to begin.

It’s to find your power in the eye of the storm, We will not achieve prosperity He speaks of things of Christ and Heaven and Earth, Refusing temptations in chaos formed.

I do not concede that he speaks things of life and death and self-worth.

Our nature is that of good Silent teardrops slowly cascade down my cheeks, None shall drown out this immortal noise, and I long to absorb every word that he speaks.

Of echoes and whispers of a single voice.

He tells me the dreams that fill up his head, one in particular about leaving his bed.

The voice demands for what is pure and right, Maria Hilbich “I wish I could leap up and walk down the street, To walk by faith and not by sight.

Third Place Tie - Poetry for it would be Jesus I’d run to and meet.

Tenth Grade I’d take his hand gently and lead him to you, Tupelo Christian Preparatory I will preach these truths till the day I die, and you would find Jesus as I have done too.”

For when I leave this earth, all that remains is my battle School I listen in awe as he speaks on and on, cry. until the raspy voice has faded and gone.

Battle Cry His piercing blue eyes act as mirrors to mine, and our tears hit the tile in near perfect time.

Congratulations Maria!

We say prayers of parting, thanking God for our lives, Towering statues and the great empires, We are so very proud of you and what and my gaze falls on his blue eyes one last time.

The whitest of marble and the tallest of spires, I returned for old memories and left with new ones, your have accomplished!

Mr. Turner taught me faith, and above all, love.

Love, your family Priceless riches and glory divine,

TENTH GRADE - POETRY

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2015 YOUTH CELEBRATION OF WRITING CONTEST

DAILY JOURNAL

2015 YOUTH CELEBRATION OF WRITING CONTEST

| FRIDAY, MAY 8, 2015

Savannah Bell

Third Place Tie - Poetry Tenth Grade Saltillo High School

The Hidden Treasure The town was not paper as many believed But in fact a canvas, as blank as could be.

Each memory we make splatters on reds and blues.

Each emotion illustrates a brand new hue The faces erupt bringing the town to life The town wasn’t perfect, but it was perfectly alright.

Red, black, white, green Every color imaginable found in between.

Sass, attitude, love, and laughter You can find these things highly sought after.

A town in the south with such a bad reputation This was obviously misheard in translation.

A happy small town with a charm all its own A picture whose beauty is clearly shown.

Sunflowers, daisies, roses, and lilies Businessmen, teachers, mothers, and children extra silly.

Factors so small, but compiled all together Is what makes this town the greatest treasure.

TENTH GRADE - NARRATIVE / ESSAY Angelica Millan

First Place - Narrative/Essay Tenth Grade Mooreville High School

Left The lights fade away, and I can only see him standing over me. A single tear rolls down his face, but he swipes it away before anyone sees. He turns away and stumbles out of the room covering his face. I’m alone now. What am I supposed to do?

I’m pulled out of my bed, away from all of the pain, and the room is gone for good. I am sitting in an office by myself. There are no still pictures in the room. They have children scuttling around and people laughing, and there’s even some pets darting through a field of wet grass. A tall woman walks in dropping her papers and laughs in the process of picking them back up. She plops down in her chair smiling politely at me and dumps the papers onto the

desk.

“I knew there would be something when I died, but I didn’t expect this,” I said.

She begins rummaging through the papers as she hums “Don’t Fear the Reaper” by Blue Oyster Cult until she finds one marked with red tape at the top. She studies it while I watch the children in the picture frame play.

They chase each other and roll on the ground belly-laughing until they’re out of breath. One runs off into the trees while another makes goofy faces at the ground. Finally, she’s done reading the paper, and she looks up at me with such a joyful expression. I’m surprised she can be so happy being the deliverer of the worst news you could ever get.

“Well, Juliet, you are dead.”

I feel like I should look around for someone to come out with a camera and tell me I had just been pranked, but I know she’s telling the truth. I guess there is no need for sugar-coating things.

“So what happens now?” I lean back in the chair.

“Well, let me introduce myself.”

She shifts in her seat as she explains, “I’m Chloe, your mentor, counselor, friend, or whatever you need. This is Left, a place where those who want to continue being involved with the living go when they die.”

“Involved with the living? Like ghosts? Or Guardian Angels?”

“You could say that.”

I laugh nervously as she stands up and walks to the door.

“I should show you around.”

I follow with wobbly legs while she shows me the many different rooms. Each room is noticeably meant for a certain type of personality, and we walk for what feels like forever down a long corridor that’s decorated differently every few feet. For the first few feet, we walk through a patch of flowers colored with the rainbow, and I know that this door will open up to an array of hippies. As she turns the knob, everyone gathers close and waves with bright smiles. I take in all the love that they send in those few seconds, and Chloe shuts the door abruptly.

“We have a lot more to go, so we have to make it snappy.”

I nod my head, and we continue to the next room and the next and the next and the next and the next. I notice far too quickly that door by door the welcomes become less and less enthusiastic. I begin to feel nervous about my placement.

“Which room am I?” “You don’t get a room just yet, but there will be some people in the waiting area that you can befriend.”

“Waiting area?”

I slump my shoulders and look at the ground.

“You will be fine.”

Sure I will.

She pushes me into the very last room and closes the door without delay. I hear her humming that song, and she waits a minute before I hear her heels clanking away.

DAILY JOURNAL

After leveling my choices of people to sit with I decide: Laughers? Too soon.

Criers? Not in the mood.

Old men playing cards?…Maybe later.

Four teens hiding in the corner of the room? Of course.

I saunter over trying to match their boredom, and the tall guy in the corner grabs an empty chair and sets it next to him. They’re talking about another person, so I sit down with interest next to Tall Guy. “He’s been in there for almost a week. You think he did it?” says Blonde Girl next to me.

“I don’t know. I’ve asked around, and everyone says it’s almost impossible. But it’s the most wanted here. Even Chloe said she has never been able to,” says Purple Hair Girl.

“What are you talking about?” I ask.

“My friend, Derek, has been in the Chamber for five days. He is trying to dream with his girlfriend, but I doubt he will,” says Tall Guy. Just as his mouth closes, a guy runs in and collapses to the floor in tears. Everyone in the room stops what they’re doing and stands in silence staring at him. He burrows his face into his knees and pounds the ground with his fists.

“I did it!” he yells through tears.

Tall Guy walks to him and helps him off the ground.

No one can say anything, but we begin moving all of the groups into a full circle. He sits directly across from me, and I watch him wipe the tears from his eyes and prepare to tell everyone what happened. His hands shake and tremble, and his feet are unable to keep themselves steady. I feel a strong urge to walk up and wrap my arms around him, but I hold myself back. Finally, after his lip quivers a few times, he looks up to meet my gaze and talks without averting.

“I watched her grieve. She wouldn’t eat or even leave her room,” he explains, “…she started to…to hurt herself, and I knew it was coming. I watched her eyes close, and I was ready to be taken. I blinked once, and I stood right over her bed.”

A single tear rolls down his cheek, and I can’t help mine from falling.

“I placed my hand on her cheek, and I was in her dream. I ran to her and tried to tell her that it was okay, but it only lasted a second…”

He swipes the tear away and looks from me to Tall Guy. “She didn’t make it. I went back to her bed, and her face disappeared.”

Everyone stands and makes a a line to give him a hug and a pat on the back for doing what not many could do.

I wait until everyone has moved back to their circles, and I throw myself into his arms without a thought. I back away slowly, and I can see confusion radiating off of both of us.

“Hi. I’m Juliet.” I say.

“Derek.”

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Abbey Edmonson

Second Place - Narrative/Essay Tenth Grade Tupelo High School

The Tragedy at the Lake I studied the trees as they danced in circles away from our speeding car. The bright green leaves and the speckles of sunlight peeking through the branches only made me anticipate this day trip more. I couldn’t contain my excitement as I bounced up and down in my seat.

“Jimmy, stop it. You’re making me nervous,” Grammy chastised me from her spot next to me. We were crammed in the back, so there wasn’t much room for my energetic actions.

“Mamaaa…” my brother, Jacob, groaned, “Tell Susie to stop popping bubbles in my ear.” Our five-year-old sister grinned behind a massive pink gum bubble.

“We’re almost there,” my mother sighed, “Susie, what’s that?” She pointed to a mysterious object that was shoved onto the floor. It looked like a frilly, pink blanket.

What had my sister destroyed now?

Susie reached down and grasped the strange item,”It’s my ballet tut, Mama.” She held up the gaudy piece of clothing.

“Well, put it in the back. I don’t want it to get too dirty — Oh look! We’re here!” My mother cheered as the whole car participated in celebrating our arrival.

Finally! I could get out of the car and escape my family’s jibber-jabber. My hands itched to find more rocks for my collection, and the lake is the perfect place to acquire what I needed.

My lips curled upward as I picked up stone after stone and placed them in my pocket. I didn’t when Grammy set up the picnic. When Dad got the boat in the shimmering water, I was nose-deep in pebbles of all different shapes and sizes.

“Jimmy! Come play with us!” Jacob called.

I glanced up from my rock investigation and yelled, “Coming!”

As I raced toward the dock with my dog, Pete, by my side, I marveled at the sound of my pebbles jingling in my pocket. Without thinking, I bounded right off the dock and into the lake. As I leapt into the air, I did a flip. My excitement and adrenaline flushed away with me as I hit the water with a satisfying smack.

I bobbed up with a smile growing ear to ear.

However, that grin dissipated when I realized what went wrong.

One might think that the rocks in my pockets dragged me down in the water. No, I wasn’t that lucky. Something more traumatizing and embarrassing happened to me.

My trousers! They were gone! The pebbles in my

pockets must have pulled them down when I hit the lake.

I searched desperately for my missing pants, but they were gone. I sobbed as I waited for someone to notice my dilemma.

“What’s wrong, Jimmy?” Mama asked. Worry lines crossed her face like an etch-a-sketch.

“I lost my pants!” I cried from the water.

“Where are they?” She tried to hide a smile.

“They sank,” I sniffed, “I put rocks in my pockets, and they sank.”

“Okay, okay,” She tried to come up with a solution, “Hold on, I’ll be right back.”

I tried not to look down at the murky water swirling around me as I waited for her return. Visions of a terrifying lake monster popped into my head, and I wanted nothing more than to get out of the water.

Mama returned after what felt like a lifetime with my sister’s frilly tutu.

“No,” I shook my head.

“Jimmy, there’s nothing else.”

“I won’t.”

“Either put it on, or we’re leaving you here.”

So it was with great regret and embarrassment that I put the hideous tutu on and walked back to the car. Every time my brother or sister tried to say something on the way home, Mama would silence them with a death glare.

I groaned and slumped in my seat as I glared down at the gray asphalt. Watching the yellow lines blur into one, long, continuous string, I desperately hoped this nightmare would end.

Cooper Moore

Third Place - Narrative/Essay Tenth Grade Tupelo High School

Entrapped As I hopelessly sit here waiting, I can only dream of how life on the outside must be at this very moment. I have been gone so long it almost seems like fantasy out there. The only reality I can comprehend now is the reality behind prison bars and the bars inside the depths of my subconscious that lock away my darkest memories. I cannot quite remember how long it is I have sat here waiting to hear my name called. It feels like an eternity. All I think about is what got me stuck in this desolate hole. The thought of having done what I did eats me alive. But I was poor, and the way I saw it then I did not really have much of a choice. Without her I had nothing and was nothing.

The thought of losing her was too much for me to bear.

As the days passed, I continued to see the color fade from her face. The clearness of her speech began to slur.

I could vividly see the light in her eyes turn to a dormant shade of gray. It is as if her spirit progressively left her

FRIDAY, MAY 8, 2015

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21

body for the great heavens above. What was I to do? Sit there and watch her inevitable death? No! I took it upon myself to change her future even if it meant changing mine. There was only one thing popping up in my head that seemed like a rational answer at the time. I needed to obtain an enormous amount of money quickly.

I remember loading the gun as if I was not in control of my hands. I was not thinking clearly about the chain of events this could enable nor how this would alter my life.

I drove unsuspectingly to Manhattan Federal Bank. My heart was racing inside my chess like the beating of ten thousand drums. Sometimes I feel as if it never stopped beating that fast. Chills ran up and down my spine because I knew, in the next instant, my actions would alter the course of time forever. BOOM! One shot. One dead.

I kept moving on. BOOM! One shot. Another dead.

Repeating the process. BOOM! One shot. Three dead. All of my innocence was gone, or at least what innocence was left in me. Then, with my mind racing out of control, I had missed one teller and the alarm sounded. I must finish this gruesome task I had started, or else my spilling of their blood was in vain. I opened the vault and grabbed what I could carry. The mixture of sorrow and greed swept over me like a tidal wave, but love fought back as I remembered who this was all for. I walked out. The sun shined bright like a ring of fire blinding me from all the massacre I had unleashed. I sped off.

I walked in my house. There my sister Ana stood in the hallway with a look of despair and agony as she glanced at me. I told her I was sorry and did what I felt was necessary. Ana in frustration took the bag of money and told me to leave. As I was walking out, I walked into Emma’s room one last time to kiss her goodbye and tell her I loved her. She asked, “Where are you going?” I replied, “Away sweetheart. Daddy loves you. You’ll be better soon.” I took the picture on her night stand of us when she was first born and stuck it in my pocket. I walked out the front door knowing that I would probably never see the day when she was completely cured but with a hope that she would now get that chance.

I walked endlessly down the boulevard waiting for them to take me. There was no use running. I was not willing to put up a fight. I was surrounded by three FBI Suburbans as I got to Brooklyn Bridge. I sat there because I wanted to see the beautiful view of the city one last time before incarceration. They put me under federal custody. I was later given a pubic trial in Washington D.C. five months later and was found guilty of three counts of murder in the first degree and grand theft. They said my time will come soon. The time to meet my creator and answer for everything that I’ve done. I still haven’t hear my name.

I wonder if they’ll ever call it or they’d rather just leave me here to rot for my transgressions. I honestly would not blame them if they did and feel that is what I truly deserve.

This is the incident that haunts me. It replays in my mind over and over until I go to sleep, but then I dream about it. It is an endless torture. One night just as the

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2015 YOUTH CELEBRATION OF WRITING CONTEST

DAILY JOURNAL

2015 YOUTH CELEBRATION OF WRITING CONTEST

| FRIDAY, MAY 8, 2015

ongoing dream was about to occur, I was awakened to an illuminating light coming from my open cell door. I saw Katherine Holliman Emma standing there, looking healthy, calling for me. But, Second Place Tie - Poetry my mind had played a trick on me. I soon came to reality Eleventh Grade when I heard the words uttered from a deep stern voice, Tupelo High School “Neil Levitt, it’s time.” I walked down the seemingly endless hall reminiscing over all of my life and what I had Beauty done. I had come to peace with myself and was not afraid to die. Then I thought to myself, Even if they think my pain just now beginning, I know that this will truly be the end I find there’s a troubling issue in this world, to my suffering.

And it’s how beauty is defined in a girl.

The world did, very incorrectly, decide That beauty is determined by what’s on the outside.

ELEVENTH GRADE - POETRY Hannah Irby

First Place - Poetry Eleventh Grade Saltillo High School

The Land Empires will fall, Buildings will crumble, Centuries will pass, And humans will forget and be forgotten But the land never forgets.

The land holds the secrets of empires long fallen, of buildings long crumbled, of centuries long past, and humans long forgotten.

The land holds the key to the days of animal skin clothes and arrow-headed spears Days of hoop-skirted dresses and over-zealous dances and balls The land holds the key to the days of blood and war to the bodies of those who died, whether in crossfire or defense The land remembers the days of plenty and few The days of food and famine Hunger and Gluttony The land remembers days lost from human memory Through all the pain and sorrow Through all the joy and laughter After all this time, The land remains

They say beauty is defined by the color of your hair, By the shape of your nose, by the clothes that you wear.

It’s defined by the size that comes on your jeans.

For some reason, girls are expected to be beauty queens.

They say it’s in the color of your eyes and the makeup you don, On how much you frequent the beauty salon.

It’s the looks you inherit from your fathers and mothers, Because, to the world, beauty is found in the eyes of another.

But this definition is terribly wrong.

They’re emphasizing beauty where emphasis doesn’t belong.

Won’t you take a look with me To find what beauty’s definition ought to be.

You see, beauty is the way you cross your t’s and dot your i’s.

It’s in the way you laugh and in the way you cry.

It’s what you doodle on your test When you’re finished and waiting on all the rest.

Beauty is your favorite season, That movie you love for no particular reason.

It’s the ideas that roam around in your head When you’re up late at night lying in your bed.

Beauty is how you sing when you think no one hears.

It’s the memories you’ve kept over the years.

It’s how you react when push comes to shove.

It’s how you feel. It’s how you love.

When it comes to beauty, the world missed the mark.

Beauty is that special, little, inside spark.

Beauty isn’t found in how you’re viewed.

No, beauty is found in what makes you, you.

Lee Holman

Second Place Tie - Poetry Eleventh Grade Tupelo High School

DAILY JOURNAL

The Race Eight contenders waiting behind the line Hearts beating fast, it is their time to shine Hard work and discipline helped them achieve It’s all mental now for one to succeed Each man persevered to get to this spot Determined to win, so they dreamed and fought When the starting gun sounds, they all take flight Pushing their bodies with all of their might With each passing step exhaustion consumes Regardless of pain the runners push through As the laps pass, the hopefuls take the lead Endurance kicks in; it’s all about speed Rounding the last turn, it’s anyone’s game Any thoughts of doubt have been put to shame The final stretch to greatness is waiting A victory is up for the taking The one wanting it more crossed the line first He exploded with joy and nearly burst The glory received is brief, however, His name will be remembered forever Although it took much to get to this place, He fought the good fight and won the race

Sarah Catherine Crouch Third Place - Poetry Eleventh Grade Saltillo High School

Dust Dust lies thick in my home, for no one is there.

The windows, they are dirty, does anyone even care?

The door hinges do creak, and the lights do sputter.

There is no life here, not a syllable does one utter.

In this empty house, ghosts haunt the halls.

Their laughter can be heard, for it bounces off the walls.

Insanity is bred here, for no sane mind can stand the empty, the loneliness.

The lack of life in this land.

Not even light reaches, these solemn, dusty rooms.

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Dirt does lie thick here, no soul cleans with a broom.

The darkness lies thick here, for no one is home.

The windows remain dirty, waiting for the family… that will never come.

We love you!

Mama, Daddy, Emma, Anna Caroline & Sophia Abigail

ELEVENTH - NARRATIVE / ESSAY Meagan Boozer

First Place - Narrative/Essay Eleventh Grade Tupelo High School

I Love Me People always look at me the moment I walk through the classroom door. I find a seat and sit down, while laying my backpack on the floor, feeling like a hundred owls are creeping upon me. I hear muffled giggles behind me as I reach for my binder in my backpack. I ask myself, “Do I smell funny? Does my hair look different? Do I have food in my teeth? Is my makeup too heavy?” This is repeated every single day. I always feel like it’s something I am being made fun of for their entertainment. The topics are endless. Even the type of clothes or shoes I choose to wear are at the top of their discussions. I’m sorry that I can’t afford a pair of studded pocket jeans or a three hundred dollar pair of boots that you received as an Valentine’s gift from your parents. I choose to wear things that are a necessity, not a want. I can’t imagine what you would receive on Christmas. I’m sure it will be a new BMW or Range Rover you get the benefit of a parent’s hard work. I choose to drive a vehicle that can take me from point A to point B. Yes, I may look different from all of the other teens but at least I am thankful for the things that I have earned rather than expect the best of every thing each second of the day.

Is there a difference between being privileged and mean? I don’t see you as a bully. I experience what you do and say much differently than you would expect. I see our interactions as a blessing because without people like you, I wouldn’t be as strong as I am today. You make me stronger and help me to realize how thankful I am for what I have. I may not own the latest fad or live in a gated community but I have a sense of pride for my family and

all that they have taught me by teaching me to be thankful. Thankful is a strong and unique word to use to describe those of you that focus on making fun of me or others, but let’s face it, you have to experience struggles to understand how to be thankful when things are going smoothly. Some of you will outgrow treating others this way and for this I am thankful for but there are some of you that will choose to continue this pattern. The choices we make defines who we are. It is by choice that I treat everyone equally no matter what you wear, what you drive, what you smell like, how you walk, how you talk, how you present a project, what shoes you wear, what food you eat, etc. We are all different in our own way and I enjoy being different. Who cares if someone doesn’t like you? You deserve to be happy and there is only one you, so if you need to re-evaluate yourself, to figure out who you are, then you are on the path to becoming the true you. If I had the opportunity to sit with you and gaze at the next person that walked through the door, just to feel part of your world for a moment, I wouldn’t because that would be wrong and I couldn’t be myself.

My high school experience may never change but if I change to conform to your standards then I might be liked by you only in appearance. I won’t do that because I want people to see me, my personality. Your appearance will get your noticed but your character will keep you on the right path and help to make you a better person. So the next time you see me walk in a room you will know how I see myself. I am only a teenager, so I am used to people who disagree with me and maybe even dislike me. My one wish is that you will want others to see you for who you are and not who others expect you to be. At the end of the day, there is one thing that I know, I will never stop being me because I Love Me.

Cast not away therefore your confidence, which has great recompense of reward. (Hebrew 10:35) So proud and thankful to experience all of life’s blessings with you!

Love You to the Moon and Back!

Dad, Mom and Lauren

Sarah Catherine Crouch

Second Place - Narrative/Essay Eleventh Grade Saltillo High School

Her Exile

FRIDAY, MAY 8, 2015

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She hummed softly to the melody that only she could hear. Her foot tapped in rhythm to the orchestra that played inside of her head.

All around her, a symphony of life panned out. There were voices and footsteps, the noises of doors opening and closing. It was both chaos and order, tranquility and insanity. She called it reality.

She sat alone, beneath the shade of the birch tree.

There, in the shadows, she was able to sit undisturbed.

She could watch the life that rolled before here, she could listen to the music that played. Truly, she wasn’t bothered to be alone. If anything, it was this time that she loved best.

Long ago she had learned to block out the whispers, to shield herself with the music. After perfecting this technique, the snickers of her fellow classmates could no longer touch her. it was as if she was a statue, a cool and distant soul. She like it this way, she told herself this. She reminded herself of this fact in the rare times when she did start to become lonely, when she did long for the company of another.

Many times, she was approached. Usually by the regular cruel hearted individuals seeking only laughs for their personal enjoyment, but sometimes…the attempts were genuine. Children who really did wish to greet her, to meet her and call her friend.

However, after being alone for so long, she found herself afraid of the thought of companionship. To go out and be social would jeopardize all that she had built. As long as she was in her area of comfort, she was safe. She could not be harmed by their words.

So, in her safe area she stayed. As time passed, less people approached the girl beneath the birch tree. Both bullies and friendly folk alike began to fade, until not a single soul stopped by the girl’s spot. It was almost as though she didn’t exist, as if she were a part of the tree itself, as if she were invisible.

The girl tried to take pride in this, but despite all her forced joy she could not convince herself of the fact. All too quickly, the spot that had once given her comfort became her prison, her cage.

She hadn’t realized the trap at first, because the door had remained wide open. The bars were loosely spaced, so that she could leave whenever she wished. She had been deceived by this apparent safety, for it was only with time that the trap did spring. The door slammed shut, the iron bars tightened, and she was trapped.

A little bird, stuck in a cage, humming to the melody that only she can hear.

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2015 YOUTH CELEBRATION OF WRITING CONTEST

DAILY JOURNAL

2015 YOUTH CELEBRATION OF WRITING CONTEST

| FRIDAY, MAY 8, 2015

Kylie Waldrop

Third Place Tie - Narrative/Essay Eleventh Grade Saltillo High School

Happily Ever After?

She sits alone. No one notices.

She talks, no one speaks. If she were to be on fire she would burn.

Maybe she wanted to burn, but maybe she felt something coming in her future; more than what was meeting the eye.

Her life was an untold mystery that no soul could solve. She lived her life behind the fear of being along.

She prayed and she prayed when suddenly, a face appeared out of the blue. The kind of face she could not seem to erase from her pondering mind. “Is this the missing puzzle piece? Will this be the crack beginning to show in my shell that I’ve hid myself away in for so long?”

Maybe it was, but only time would tell. During the split second of the first whispered “Hello.” She had hoped she was right.

Time was beginning to unravel piece by piece as she found herself drowning in his mystical Caribbean sea blue eyes. He was a mystery, yet so was she.

As months passed, this indescribable feeling she had now felt began to grow with every word - every kiss.

“What is this feeling I have never felt before? Is it this terrifying thing people called love?” She had yet to know, and she was scared to find out. As the feeling grew stronger, she grew weaker. “Is this the beginning of my happily ever after, or would this be the beginning of my horrific nightmare I had never wanted to live?” She was oblivious and only he started to notice.

With all these thoughts rampaging in her head, she had not realized the year that had crept upon her like the crescent moon rose in the night sky.

That was the moment she had dreaded to come. She knew exactly what that feeling inside of her truly was…love. She was in love. She felt overwhelmed with happiness. This was it. The start of what she thought would make a beautiful story.

Though it was just like that. As if a gust of wind had knocked her into the sense that her happiness was only temporary.

Her whole life she has been this invisible young hopeful girl that thirsted for others to know her. Not to just know her but almost to go out of their way to know her in the sense of love rather than fame. Unfortunately, it wasn’t that way for her which caused her to break as she wondered, “Maybe this really is love. Maybe this will be the one person that will make me feel like I am worth something, to keep me sane - the person there for me when I

hurt the most.” This was it. Her moment of truth coming to the conclusion that this would be her unforgettable first love. Little did she know, it would only tear her apart more than she already was.

She snapped back into reality. She knew everything she once denied, she had denied for a reason. But she didn’t want to feel the pain she knew so well any longer, and he majestically eluded that away from her. She wanted that to last forever.

She has always been the type of person to push people that truly may have loved her once upon a time out of her life as if she had shut the door. She had never felt love because she never received it; it didn’t exist to her.

As time ticked on, so did she as she tried to become more oblivious to her thoughts that scattered through her restless mind. This time he really did notice, but at this time she also began to notice something as well. All the time she spent wasting on her bundle of lie optimistic thoughts, she realized her true feelings. It was as if a timer had dinged when she accepted the fact their time had officially run out. So she escaped as she ran leaving it all behind her like a figment of there troubled past. As she mended her cracked shell with never-ending tears, she felt a burden along with an eternal moment of silence.

“So this is the end. How am I supposed to live if I cannot love. How am I supposed to keep escaping myself from my thoughts left unsaid? They don’t listen as do they even care. Maybe this will finally make me at peace…”

She sits. No one notices.

She talks, no one speaks.

She finally burned - everyone noticed.

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completely off key. Most importantly, we often share a word of frustration about my mom at the majority of our family functions. When I was young, people would ask me the cliche question: what did I want to be when I grew up?

And always, from the very beginning, whether I said it aloud or kept it in my thoughts, the first thing that popped in my head was that I wanted to be a person like my aunt.

It was broad, because she has so many talents, but even today I still have that same goal. I hope to grow up and have a marriage like hers, be the kind of mother she is, achieve, if I’m lucky, half of what she has already achieved at the young age of 38 before my own time runs out.

Although the list of similarities between us is long, there is one major difference between us. We are different in the way that when God made her and when God made me, he gave me healthy bones while he gave her broken ones. My aunt was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis, or MS, at a young age, a fact that became new to me during my early teenage years. My discovery of my aunt’s condition did not come from family confrontation or even from my aunt herself, but from the whispers and hushed tones that surrounded me. Comments such as, “Well one day Molly won’t be able to -“ cut off with a sharp glance confused me. One day she won’t be able to? I didn’t think that phrase was in her vocabulary at that point in my life. The superwoman role model I had created in my head found nothing that she couldn’t do. What were they talking about? Until one day twelve-year old me pieced together enough facts to discover the gut-wrenching truth - my aunt was a victim of MS. I suppose it’s one of those things you just don’t speak of. Sweep the facts under the rug and the disease goes away, right? Wrong. It’s always there, in her steps, in the pills she takes, lurking in the shadows.

Congratulations, Kylie! you cannot tell from looking at her, doctors conListen to your heart, and tell the story Although sider her “handicapped.” However, she has a better head only you can tell. on her shoulders than the most physically able human on the planet, and that’s something no doctor’s visit or disAlways & Forever, Mom & Dad ease can take away. She is a fighter who has never defined herself by the hardships that lay ahead or the Anna Claire Lothorp struggles she currently faces. So yes, we are different. As much as our souls are alike our anatomies differ, and as I Third Place Tie grow older I am learning that it’s okay. Disease is unyieldNarrative/Essay ing in its terrible ways and slows down for no one, not Eleventh Grade even my aunt. MS robs people of opportunities, moments, Tupelo High School ability, and takes life that it doesn’t deserve. Until worse moments come, we will continue to drink our Coke, and read our novels. We will gag at blood and snuggle in our blankets, sing off key as loud as we possibly can. Out of Mending Molly all the ways I take after her, I hope more than anything I My aunt and I are alike in more ways than one. We get her strength, because I know that’s one thing no diagboth have a passion for reading and a weak spot for a cold noses will ever take away. can of Coke. History intrigues us, blood makes us gag, and large crowds make us nervous. On any given day, if you Congratulations, Anna Claire! were to ask us how we were doing, we would usually We are so very proud of you today and respond with either “fine” or “cold” because we wouldn’t everyday! mind covering up with not only a warm blanket, but our problems as well. We sing loudly despite our habit of being We love you, Mom, Tim and Cole

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TWELFTH GRADE - POETRY Terrell Gilmore

First Place - Poetry Twelfth Grade Shannon High School

Corey Kalish

Second Place - Poetry Twelfth Grade Tupelo High School

FRIDAY, MAY 8, 2015

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TWELFTH GRADE - NARRATIVE / ESSAY Emily Williams

The World Was All Before Them

Two great falls — One of a man led by a woman, La Voix the other an angel seduced by pride and ambition, Both premeditated by a spirit unable to fall itself.

The silence is difficult to break. Without saying a word, in One serpent’s guile moved our grand parents to my mind the eat that forbidden fruit. silence screams. I can’t help but to think: ‘Why do I hear Ashamed and banished from the beautiful garden you? Of all they slowly walked, filled with sorrow, not realizing that the world was all before them. people, why do you choose to haunt me?’ The silence spoke. The voice is fighting, but losing the war. “There needs to be a secret weapon. But Kristin Clark what?” I said appearing to talk to myself. The answer Third Place - Poetry was confusing at Twelfth Grade first as the reply was, “The voice wasn’t made to talk or Saltillo High School sing. The voice wasn't made to dance. The voice was created for another purpose!” While I Held a Baby waiting on the answer, I saw Him for the first time. His I held a baby just like me, body was in the A child without a name, form of the letter “J.” He was drowned in glistening Born desolate to an unforgiving world. gold lacquer, while Then I was found, His mouth opened with a perfect circumference. He Given a new life — spoke with a A life of unconditional love. combination of raspiness and mellowness and depending I learned what it is to be American, on the mood, His A stranger in a strange land, tone ranged from ocean soft waves to the loud roar of a An immigrant among a city of immigrants seeking a new jungle lion. He’s life. the answer, I thought. At that very moment, we became I learned faith, hope, and the endurance of love, one and the Destiny would have it that I return — Back to what could have been. silence was broken. Like a shout, our newfound voice It was in this first house that I found myself, was similar to an Preserved sweet innocence in a cradle. anointed praise. With the press of each key, everything Was this the love that my mother felt when she first saw was released… me? happiness to be able to speak without words, to create Never had I felt like this: melodies to inspire, I held a baby just like me. to replace silence with such a beautiful sound, I felt free.

Now when I You have always been a blessing in our feel lost for words or unsure of what to say, my newlives. Keep sharing the Sonshine and found companion, La brightening the lives of others.

Voix and I become one voice…and my emotions and feelings are Love, Mom, Daniel, and Seth beautifully conveyed through our combined sound.

First Place - Narrative/Essay Twelfth Grade Tupelo Christian Preparatory School

The Black Death Baethan shot up from bed, sweating and panting for the fourth night in a row. The same dream haunted him.

He still could see the figure of a man standing before him, “Jaakobah” by name. He only said one thing to him, yet he repeated it over and over until Baethan woke up in the same state as he was that night. “The Black Death, the Black Death is coming, “ was all the stranger would utter.

Gently, so as not to wake his sleeping bride, he rolled over and slowly began to rise out of bed.

“Must you leave now? Will you not wait until the morning?”

The dark veil of night still hid Baethan’s wife from his view, but he could feel the warmth of her breath against his neck as she whispered. He rose slightly and gently kissed her forehead before climbing out of bed.

“Go back to sleep, my love. When you wake, I will be back with you.”

He waited quietly until he heard her gentle snore.

Satisfied she was back asleep, he slipped out the door of their little cottage into the quiet street. The moon was high in the sky, casting eerie shadow on the ground in front of him. As he walked, his mind wandered back to his bride of two months. He imagined her sleepy smile when she woke in the morning and found him by her side again.

The thought made him speed his pace. He would have to move swiftly if he was to be back with her by morning.

Baethan walked on until he reached the edge of the woods. The light from the moon barely penetrated the canopy above him as he approached a figure standing in the midst of the trees.

“Are you ready?” the shadowy figure rasped.

“Sir, do I have a choice?”

The figure sauntered away from him. Baethan stood for a moment.

“Sir, might I ask of you just one thing? A name prithee?”

The figure silently continued deeper into the forest without any acknowledgment to Baethan’s request. The pair pressed onward through the night.

“Where are we headed?” the traveler asked.

“To Hades itself, it would seem,” came his reply.

“Might I ask again, who is my guide?” he asked once more.

And yet again, no reply came. Only his footsteps

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sounded in the night.

“You are sure that this is the only way to save her from the Black Death?” the traveler questioned.

“It is believed to be,” said this mysterious figure. He halted abruptly, outstretching his hand, pointing toward a small town below them. Baethan looked below upon the town. At first glance, it seemed quaint, with small cottages lining the streets, but what lay below them was unmistakable to miss. Horror filled the streets, and anguish seemed to be growing from the ground itself.

Groans echoed throughout the air above the town, coming together a horrible harmony that made Baethan’s blood curl. The Black Death had gripped the town and left its icy handprints as evidence. He dropped to his knees, weeping.

“Why? Why have you brought me here? I do not understand!” he cried, pleading for an answer from his guide.

“Who are you?!” he screamed. Terror washed over Baethan as the mysterious figure turned toward him and moonlight bathed over his face, unveiling the outline of one that could only be described as something evil.

“I am Jaakobah. My name means the deceiver. And you, my lad, are the deceived,” the figure replied in a raspy tone.

“Villain! Fiend!” Baethan screamed as he leapt from the ground and fled back into the woods. He ran faster and faster back towards his home and his bride. Oh, his love! How would he save her from this wretched illness now? He had been deceived, tricked into thinking if he would just give himself over to this man, he could save her.

And now, her fate had been sealed. He ran faster and faster until he came to the edge of town. He ran to their cottage and reached to throw open the door but found it was already standing open. Cold dread washed over him as he walked in. He dropped to the floor next to his lifeless bride. He lay next to her and wept for what seemed like hours until the methodical rhythm of the rocking chair in the corner of the room caused him to at last look up. The same terrifying face met his gaze. Screaming, Baethan leapt up from the ground and fell against the wall. The figure stood up and slowly approached him. He reared back and…a soft hand rested upon his head and gently stroked his face as something cool was laid on his forehead. His eyes fluttered open and met wide, tear-filled blue eyes. The cool blue eyes he fell in love with, the eyes that belonged only to his bride. She tenderly stroked his head as he jumped, startled and confused. His head swam as he tried to wrap his mind around what was going on.

“What…what has happened?” he choked out.

“Hush, my love,” she whispered gently, “you are ill.”

“The plague?”

She nodded. “You’ve been ill for four days now,” she said as she tenderly stroked a lock of his hair off of his sweat-drenched brow. “The fever almost claimed you. It gave you bad dreams. I thought I had lost you.”

“And I, you,” he murmured as he lay his head back

2015 YOUTH CELEBRATION OF WRITING CONTEST

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down on the pillow, his hand in hers, content to be with never be as smart as Fletcher or as strong as Beck. I can his bride once again. never be like them.

Once I am in my room, I shut the door and turn and turn off my hearing aids. I think I like the silence more than I like to hear Mom coo over Katelyn. “ You should be more grateful for those expensive things you wear on your ears.” That was the last thing my father said to me. He left Teah Pearson a little over a year ago on the day after Mom told him she Second Place - Narrative/Essay was having another child. I believe he left so he wouldn’t be doomed to deal with another kid like me. I am not Twelfth Grade ungrateful; I just don’t feel like listening. My room is much Saltillo High School smaller and emptier than the twins’ room. An enormous bookcase takes up an entire wall while my small bed and Unheard even smaller desk take up the rest of the room. I choose I wake up to my older brother Fletcher shaking me. a random book from the bookcase and flop down on my He’s saying something, but he’s talking too fast for me to comfortable bed. Today is going to be a long, boring understand. I lean over to check the time on the clock on Saturday. I can’t wait until I am seventeen and have my the opposite side of my bed; it’s a little past six. Why is he own car. Then, I can leave this house whenever I want just waking me up this early on a Saturday? When I look back, like the twins can.

One day, I overheard Beck and Fletcher talking. Beck Fletcher is gone. Whatever he was telling me must not had said, “Lucky Ladd, the neglected child.” I don’t feel have been important. Sighing, I reach over and grab my lucky; I feel left out. The one who cannot hear is the one hearing aids, putting one in at a time. I switch them on, who goes unheard by the those who can. and all I can hear is Katelyn screaming. For an eleven

month old baby, she has some stout lungs. Maybe she will grow up to be a professional singer. I climb out of my warm bed, still wearing my pajamas, and walk past Fletcher’s and Beck’s room and toward the stairs. I can hear the two boys arguing over who should be the one to change Katelyn’s diaper and outfit. I wonder if other twins argue as much as they do. As I near the kitchen, I can hear the hum of the microwave. Mom must be warming water for a bottle.

“Good morning, Ladd. Who woke you?” Mom is wearing her old, worn-out gown, and she looks like she could use some more sleep. I think about telling her that Fletcher had, but she probably wouldn’t care. I just shake my head. I don’t speak much, and she doesn’t expect me to. Sometimes being ten isn’t so awful.

Apparently Beck had lost the fight; he always loses against Fletcher. He walks in with Katelyn resting quietly in his muscular arms. She is wearing a pink striped dress with stretchy yellow pants. She doesn’t understand that Beck has no taste in fashion. As soon as Mom sees her precious baby girl, her face lights up, and she looks as if she has actually gotten a full night’s rest every night this week. Beck says something about going to the gym at the same moment Fletcher walks in and says that he’s heading out. Once again, it will only be Katelyn and I here with Mom, but Mom will be too busy fussing over her only daughter to bother with her third son.

I grab a couple of chocolate chip granola bars from the pantry and head back upstairs. At the top of the stairs, the door is open to the twins’ room. There’s a large shelf on one side of the room. It is covered with debate trophies with Fletcher’s name etched into the plate. There is a line of overflowing hooks on the other side of the room; Beck has won so many track and weight lifting medals. I can

Karmen Tubbs

Third Place - Narrative/Essay Twelfth Grade Tupelo High School

It Gets the Job Done “Like I said you may not like my method, but it’ll get the job done.”

The adrenaline coursing through my veins allowed me to hear the silent prowl of his footsteps as he advanced.

He stopped briefly at his desk to pick up a tissue before continuing to me. The room seemed to get smaller with every step he took forward. I had forgotten all about my mother sitting mere feet away from me. If I said “uncle” would she come to my rescue? Could she hear my silent pleas for help?

“Tilt your head back,” he instructed, “Like this.” He leaned his head back, his nostrils flared. I could see the gray hairs sticking out of his nose. Do I have hanging nose hairs? I obeyed his request. My heartbeat quickened as I noticed the box of oversized matchsticks on his desk. Was he going to light those? Is that what a cauterization is?

Is he going to literally burn the vein?! He seemed to notice that I was distracted.

He eased the tissue into my damaged nostril. I jumped, startled, at the unexpected coldness of the tissue.

This was the anesthesia.

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I can do this. I can do this. I can do this.

The tissue continued up into my nose. It barged into uncharted territory of my nose. I cringed. I remember instinctively raising my hands, but I also remember not actually doing anything with them. He stepped back with the tissue secured in my nose. I slowly turned my head to my mother. She smiled encouragingly at me. Or at least, I think it was encouraging. My mother can be a smart aleck sometimes.

A few moments later, the doctor acknowledged me.

“Do you feel a buzz?” he asked. “No, sir,” I murmured. I hummed to myself. I sounded nasally. A fleeting image of Squidward popped into mind. “Well, I’m going to have to do it anyway,” he said, taking out the tissue. It felt funny.

I wrinkled my nose a few times.

“We’ll just have to see if it worked,” he said.

Hooking his hand under my chin, he tilted my head up and began prodding my nose with the large matchstick. I could faintly feel the prodding. “Does that hurt?” my mom asked. I grunted the negative. He stepped back.

“Good. Now, we’re done,” he stated. My eyebrows furrowed and my mouth parted in confusion and shock.

“That was it?” I asked. He nodded. “We’re done?” I clarified. He nodded.

And that’s how you get cauterized!

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TPSD Summer Offerings • Read an eBook (digital version of books) • Visit our K-12 media centers on Thursdays, 12noon - 6pm, June 4 - July 16 • Enjoy summer packets for rising K - 6th graders • Sign up for Opportunity Camps • Splash into Kindergarten Week - July 20 - 24 (Contact schools for registration) • Take care of proof of residency/infosnap at Centralized Registration, July 13 - 17, Milam Elementary, 8am - 6pm

Early Childhood Education Center’s Early Beginnings Resource Center open on Tuesdays from 9am - 12noon, including a storytime from 10am - 11am. Also open on Thursdays from 9am - 3pm.

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