Congrats!

Congrats, newly minted President!

You've been elected! You are the leader of the country! Some approve of you, and some obviously
hate you. Whether it be Republicans or Democrats. But groups don't matter. Before you make your decisions in your office, remember whose watching you, as you make your move: God and the Fore-Fathers, (constitution). But have no fear! I will give you 5 main tips, to guide you guide you:

1. Don't act as a king.
Isn't that why we became our own nation, let's not make a decision if we don't abide by it. George Washington refused to be treated as a king. He, the father of our nation, changed it. Remember, being a king doesn't mean fancy robes and a crown--hint! hint!--you get what I'm saying?

2. Don't be selfish.
Presidents in the past and today, have been spending lots of money. I won't be too critical here, but you weren't elected for that kind of president. It's not your job. Your job, is a leader for the people.

3. Be an example.
Set an example for yourself. Like parents raising a child. They are cautious in what they say or do!
Abraham Lincoln made sure to have a war, (Civil War), it would set a bad example for the future if he didn't.

4. Don't be a hypocrite.
No one wants a president who goes back on their word. No one wants "hypocrite president". When making your speeches, be careful in what you write. People will remember that. Especially when you do something, that you think that you can get away with. But you'll be fooled! Wait till you see how many people will turn their back on you! Remember to be re-elected, if you wish, people will watch every move you make!! 

5. Be a Leader. 
Being a leader is a tough job. It's like training an army! You may think it's an easy task, but boy, are you ever wrong! Don't think of yourself as this:
You sit at the table, a waiter brings you food. (You sit at the table, a soldier brings you food.)  Later on, by sleeping too long, you miss your 2 o'clock  pm, meeting of a new law on recycling, for the community. (By sleeping too long, you miss the training time for 2 o'clock AM. You're way behind schedule. On top of that, your camp was supposed to march at 5 AM, and set up camp at 8 AM, in order to get ready for a battle at 10 AM.)
So you see how important it is? One false move and you're not just not being a leader, you're  setting a bad example.  BE CAREFUL!

So, do you think you can handle all of this? Because if you said no, then ask someone who is capable of running a country. Tough job, isn't it? You're right, because you have to learn what the word "responsibility" is. I gave you 5 examples, to show you the true meaning of responsibility. 

So here's my queston, newly minted president,....................................................................................

DO YOU HAVE WHAT IT TAKES?  

 

Everyone Has Hope

Everyone has hope
Everyone has a wish
Everyone has a goal

It's like a game that they play
Winning or losing
Winning the next level up

Everyone has a dream
Everyone can daydream
Everyone has hope

Like sailing on a cloud
Like flying through the air
Making pictures in the clouds 

Everyone has freedom 
The right to make a difference 
Everyone has hope 

Like an eagle in the sky 
You yourself are flying high 
Like freedom in the air, all the time everywhere

Everyone has a plan
A plan to do their dream 
Everone has hope 

Like the plan for a war 
Or the plan for a dream to come true 
Like a president or a group leader 


Everyone has a future
A place to make their lives have a meaning
Everyone has hope

Like a class graduating
Making their lives part of something
Everyone has hope

Goal, dream, freedom, plan, furure
Everyone has all of these
Everyone even has HOPE 

Sometimes People are Cruel

  Sometimes, people are cruel
They have no feelings for other people. Bullies, as they are known to you.
But we, are the victims of bullies. It is like the wind who laugh and screech at us. The clouds that hover over us, making us become frightened, as they turn the day, into nightfall.

Sometimes, people are cruel.
We sit in our rooms, to hide from the darkness. For all we want is light. Light to grasp us, something to hold onto. So we won't become afraid. The rains come, pouring down, as they watch you cry. "It's okay." they say. We sit, thinking, giving ourselves, a flashback, of the darkness. All we want is light. 

Sometimes, people are cruel. 
They make fun of us. In the hallways, laughing at us. They play a trick on us, but they always say, "Just kidding" or "I was just playing." But it's not true, and we know that. Then suddenly light appears. You were stronger than they. 

Sometimes, people are cruel 
Sometimes, people are lost and cruel
They are too embarrassed to say they're sorry. When I walk through the streets, the wind stops, I hear birds chirping. The clouds suddenly run away; the sun appears. When the rain falls, it says, "You did it." As you wake up the next day, frost and snow are on the ground. As you remember and know how cruel they were, they are sorry, and all has turned out well. 

Hard Times (Part 3)

I have the key! I stole it from my family's photo album, I remember discovering it...............................................................................

I was seven years old, and I love to look into our album. It's much more fun than seeing a movie, for me. I looked through all the photos. My favorite photo of me is: I am sitting on a large gray stone, I wearing a red pretty dress, (the pictures are black and white), I have a pretty red bow in my hair,and my hair is curly. Anyway, at the back of the book, there was a pocket, inside was a locket. It was so pretty, it was shaped in a heart. I was so little, I took it and put it in a pink metal tin box--my memorable box..........................

.....................................I quickly ran to my cot and found my box, and grasped the key tightly in my hand. I raced to the trunk. As soon as I unlocked it, the wind became strong, and itself shut the windows, and the room became dark. Then, it was all magical as the wind opened up the trunk, I looked in. Inside was old things. Then, something caught my eye. Two photos: one of a picture of a small girl with two people, and a photo of me! The same photo when I was sitting on that gray stone, my red dress, and my hair is all curly!!! I looked at the other picture. This one had a young man and a young woman in it. The woman is holding a tiny baby, might even be a newborn. The background, is the house (we are staying in now)!!  "I don't believe it!" I whispered. There was writing on the back,and I took a look at it. the first one was with the the man, the woman , and the baby: 

Mr. Samuel Moore, his wife Rose Moore, and their daughter

Margaret Emily Moore 

I looked at the picture with just me in it, on the back it said:

Margaret Emily Moore 

Now I became angry! The people downstairs had a lot to explain about. I grabbed the 2 photos and the locket, and raced down the stairs. "What is my picture doing in your house? And maybe I found the truth about myself, is it true you're my parents? Is true my name's not Emily, but Margaret Emily? Why?" Mr.Moore stood up and said, "Take it easy now. Rose, give her some lemonade. Sit down, please. Let me tell you what happened. and your friends might as well know." 

He began the long story, 13 years ago........................................................

"My name was indeed Samuel Moore. My wife Rose Moore gave birth to you, Margaret Emily. When you were a year old, we lost our house. We didn't have enough money to keep you. It was a burden to us, so we wanted to start over, but that was impossible,we knew. So, your brilliant mother--" He sounded like he was mocking her. " Took you to the Durham Orphanage, where she worked. She kept close to you as much as possible. The taxes were due, and we lost our second home. We were told to move to the poor house. Your mother stopped working for 4 months to help with the moving process. When she returned, you were gone!" "Gone?" asked Jane, whom I couldn't believe that they wanted to listen. "She was adopted into the Wicker family in London, England." "I remember Mother and Father returned from a trip in Durham, they told us that a poor family gave her to them." Patrick said aloud. "Yes, that was after we begged them to return our child, and it was a mistake. But they refused and the orphanage was on their side. So they agreed to one condition, in keeping you. To never return you or ever mention our names to you. Keep it a secret. We put all your things in that old trunk. We gave the key to them, so we would never open it, so we wouldn't cry. We also gave them a picture so you wouldn't be suspicious. I finally got a job, and we moved here." 

"I've got only one more question," Jane said looking puzzled, "How come my mother and father's will said you were our uncle?" t was Rose who spoke up, "Everyone, to escape the war would go to America or another country. That's where your family went. The only people they knew left, were us. So they made the will after they adopted Emily. We disguised ourselves, and you were to call him Uncle Matthew, I guess she made an error, stating Uncle Sam." 

Well, with the remaining part of my story is simple. After WWII, Mr. and Mrs. Wicker were found. Patrick and Jane returned to London, England. My Father received a job, and he soon became manager of a company. We had enough money to return to London, (the job was in London), and I have seen my "other family" more than once a week. 

End of Hard Times  

Add capthttp://www.bing.com/images/search?q=locket+necklace&qpvt=locket+necklace&FORM=Z7FD1&adlt=strict#x0y1528ion

The Hard Times (Part 2)

Two years ago, my siblings and I, were sent to Durham to see our Uncle Sam. He received a letter (from the police),explaining that we were in his care, now. At first, he sent a telegram to them saying he refused. But he never got a letter back. "Doesn't he know that we are coming?" I had asked Jane. "He must know us, or he would've said, 'I don't have any nieces, or nephews.' Instead, he refused. There must be a reason why."
I suppose she was right. When we arrived in that small little town, no one came for us. We asked a shopkeeper if he knew our uncle. All he said was, "Boy, do I feel sorry for you. He lives farther out in the country, near the seashore, about an hour's worth. I'll drive you three, since I'm so kind." He talked on and on, while he drove us there.

When we arrived, we saw two houses in the distance. "The one on the right is his. Be careful, now. He's a cold man. Has no experience of raising children." "We'll manage fine, thank you, sir."Patrick said kindly. I think the shopkeeper ignored his sentence completely, because the man went on saying, "Quite right, you'll need all the luck and help, you three can get."
We walked a little ways to the house. A man had already reached the door. "Who are you?" he demanded. His voice cracked and it sounded angry-like. Patrick had to explain,quickly, but carefully. "We are Thomas Wicker's children, sir. I am Patrick, this is Jane, and Emily." "Well, I don't need you, so why don't you go back where you came from and-" "Matthew! You'll wake the neighbors, with that kind of talk!" A woman appeared before us. She is Rose Moore................................................................

Two years ago, we arrived at the home of Matthew and Rose Moore. Us children have lived in an attic, with three small cots. One dresser and a small trunk, that they keep. It's hot in the summertime, but extremely cold in the winter. There is a school near us, which we can attend, but we have to walk 2 miles to get there. I'm starting to save some money for a bicycle. 

Since the day we came, I've noticed some odd things. One, for instance, this man that let us into his home, is not Uncle Sam. Another thing too, this woman either lives in this house or not. They're not elderly people, actually they might be in they're late thirty's. There must be a secret to all of this.
I decided I would observe everything I see or hear and write it down in my head.

When we were all called to supper, I noticed that Miss Rose was eating with us. Look at them,I told myself. My siblings are different than me. But they are always older. No, something is exactly more strange. And this is the first time I've noticed it before! I noticed that my siblings all had orange hair. I remember my mother always having the most beautiful orangish-reddish hair. It was curly, like Jane's hair, is like mother's. Father's hair had brown hair, with some slight reddish color to it. So Patrick had Father's hair. But me? My hair has always been the complete opposite. I have a pretty blondish hair.  I also noticed when we lived at home, I always liked to look at the photo album: everyone either had orange, red, or brown hair. No blondes. Am I the only blonde in my family?

"Where is our Uncle Sam? I mean, they wouldn't lie to us, would they?" I asked Jane. "Oh well, people make mistakes, besides, at least we have a place to stay." That wasn't the answer I was looking for. I decided I would need to investigate more. 

One day, after school I was reviewing my notes, in the attic:

My family had red or orange hair

The Moores' all have blonde hair

Miss Rose lives in the house

I think Mr. Matthew is replacing himself as

Uncle Samuel, but I don't have proof.......yet.

Suddenly, a gush of wind blew all my notes off my notepad! I stood up quickly to catch the papers. One fell under the door of the closet. As soon as I collected them all, I went to the closet, to retrieve the last paper. I picked it up, but my eyes slowly noticed the trunk that was beside me. I tried to open it up, but it was locked.  I looked at the keyhole.........I gasped. The keyhole was shaped into a heart. My heart was beating faster, my mind was spinning, I knew who had access to that key..............secrets were flying like the wind, I suddenly realized where the key was. I knew who had the key now...................it would reveal all the secrets now.....................................



End of Part 2

(Continued into part 3)

A picture of Durham, England

An attic, Emily might have lived in, with her siblings

The Hard Times (Part 1)

Fire! That’s the next word that comes into my mind, when our house was bombed. I sit in that bomb shelter waiting and waiting, for news of our parents. I hate waiting! There’s noise outside as I hear the engines of the planes above us. I wrap a blanket around me and at least try to get some sleep.

In the morning, I don’t hear planes, or bombs dropping, or the sound of people screaming. My older siblings head for the door.
“Come on!” my older brother Patrick tells us. I stand up and see smoke everywhere. Buildings are burned and debris flying in the wind. “Did they make it?” my older sister Jane asks outloud. "Let's find someone who can at least help us." he says grabbing my hand and walking through the streets. We find that almost every home was burned. "If I'm not crazy, I think I see someone." Patrick actually starts running to this person who directs him, and points east. "He says," Patrick says running back to us, "To go to the train station. Bring any belongings we have--" "But we have none!" Jane interrupts. "That's why they'll give us some things!" "But we don't have a suitcase!" she protests. "Besides, how can we trust him?" The fact is, it's hard to trust anyone, even in this war. But Patrick, being the oldest, motions for us to follow. I don't object, because he's the oldest. But Jane glares at him and doesn't budge. She won't move and probably won't for awhile.

This "game" that they play, really bothers me. When we, (Patrick and I), arrive at the train station we get in a line. "What about Jane?" I ask him. What I'm really saying is, "Don't you care?" "She'll follow, just watch. She can't stand being in one place......
alone." Sure enough, she runs up to us, not saying a word. 


The lady at the register asks, "Where are your parents?" What kind of question is that?, I thought. "Are your parents gone?"she rephrases it.  Patrick shrugs. "Our house was bombed,ma'am. We don't have a clue." "Well, if they can't be found, we'll check their files, for a will." She searches in a file cabinet, and sees what she's looking for. "Let's see." she says to herself. She quickly scans the paper. "Okay, I understand. Your parents say that you will belong immediately to your Uncle Samuel." "We don't have an uncle. Mother never mentions it." Jane corrects the woman. These are your parents names, correct?" she holds up the paper. 

Mr. Thomas Wicker and his wife Sophia Robin Wicker 

Their children: Patrick Wicker, Jane Wicker, Emily Wicker 

It is our names! Now I, was confused even more! "Yes, it is." Patrick answered, not knowing what to say. "Good then. Your uncle lives in Durham, (in the country), you will stay there until the war is over. Then after, if your parents are found, then you may live with them. I will put you down for the four o'clock train, this afternoon." "But that's in two hours." I speak up. "Well, I guess you'll just have to wait here." She hands us a small bag, as we inch our way towards a bench, to wait for that long train..............................................

END OF PART I  

A map of England. 

 

Bulidings that were bombed, in England. 

Stars

Stars, they glow and glitter
Like gems that you find
Shining so bright, they're a flashlight
In the dark night 

They dance high in the sky
They flicker and twirl
They glow in the dark
They fire like a spark

They act as a guide for sailors
Making pictures in the sky
You can't count them all
They are like shiny dots, and very small

But you can watch as they appear
They play games all the time
Like hind-and-seek in the day
Watch them as they play

Some glide in the air
They always stay in their places
Some shoot across the sky
Watch them as they pass by

Some make glowings in the sky
Some call it "northern lights"
Another special thing, that stars do
Colors that are wavy, like red, green, orange, or blue

Some might be different colors
Red, orange, or maybe even blue
Yellow and white, they are each a star
Looking down on earth, from afar

Stars, they glow and glitter
Like gems that you find
Shinning so bright, they're a flashlight
In the dark night





Image: 'Full Moon Aurora (5)'
http://www.flickr.com/photos/39548131@N06/6149069613