rylee.mclam@oxbowhs.org

My name is Sam.

I live in a mute town where nobody speaks.

We communicate through gestures and facial expressions. 

I have a part time job at the local supermarket.

It’s an early Summer morning.

I could not believe the mystique of all the little bodies of water through the fog as we were coming in for the landing above Tampa Florida early on a mid November morning.

“What are we supposed to do now.”

“Calm down Becca it’s going to be okay.”

“NO, this is a disaster she’s going to find out about the party.”

“So what, the cake maker had a slight problem with the cake.”

Tomorrow I hope.

I hope families don't wake up hungry,

That everyone finds a little home and aren't on the cold icy streets freezing.

I hope that voices are heard.

    Moms, the ones who can always find something you lost even in places you have already looked. The person you can always go to for advice. The one who can pick you up when your feeling down. 

Waiting,

So close but so far away.

Christmas Eve.

Milk poured,

Cookies set,

Stockings hung.

Anticipation filling the air.

Thoughts of ‘‘What am I going to get?”

Sleep comes in small spurts,