about all the new books coming into the library.
But sometimes there’s this business of being a kid, wanting to be liked, worrying about how you look, having the feeling that you’re all alone even when your family is around you. This gets in the way of feeling lucky.
Hello God,
School is a heap of brick buildings stuck together with bunches of trees around them. School is a teacher blowing a whistle. School is a lot of kids standing in lines, waiting for instructions, then one following the other into classrooms. School is about learning maths and English, reading and writing. School is a battleground sometimes. Some kids punch. Others use bad language. Some are just annoying.
A new girl has come into our class. Nobody really likes her. Her name is Stephanie. She tries tomake us like her by offering us cucumber sandwiches. Cucumber sandwiches? If you’ve ever tasted them you’d understand. But I suppose you don’t need to eat. Do you? You’re missing out on some good stuff like chocolate ice-cream.
So, you’re probably wondering what’s wrong with Stephanie. School life in the playground is like playing snakes and ladders. (The board game—you’ve got that name on file, haven’t you?) If you are one of the in kids then you just keep climbing up the ladders. If you are not in , and there’s a kid in every class who isn’t in, then you just keep sliding down the snakes.
Stephanie has a small mouse-like face and little lips. She has thin, straight brown hair, and she never smiles. She always does her homework, and when the teacher asks a question she holds her hand up straight. She never waves it. She knows all the answers, too. She’s quiet. She’s different. She also eats weird sandwiches.
She wears glasses, so we call her four-eyes. That’s teasing. I think, God, it’s something you must want us to do, otherwise why would we do it? The thing is that she follows us around. Danielle, Stacey and me. Particularly me.
What do I do? I want to tell her to buzz off. She’s one of those dorky kids and if I’m seen with her I’ll be a dork too. Then the other kids will pick on me. I don’t want that to happen. I’ve never been really picked on, but I don’t think it would be fun.
I understand that you’re busy and there must be lots of kids like me telling you their problems. So send me a sign, or something, huh, just so I know you’ve heard me.
Dad went to a conference in Canberrayesterday where famous scientists talked about pollution. Dad doesn’t just care about the rest of the galaxy, he cares about Earth as well. I thought I’d tell you about that because I know that must worry you a lot.
I asked Mum today why people do bad things like mess up the planet. After all, Earth is our home. I asked her about you, too. ‘Why doesn’t God fix things up? Why does he leave a lot of the important things to us?’
Mum said, ‘Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.’ She sipped her cup of tea for the longest time. Then she said, ‘People have free will. That means they can make up their own minds.’ She said that she believes that you gave people choices, maybe for reasons that we can’t understand, but that you always hoped that we’d make good choices.
Well, now I’m wondering why you’d givepeople the right to make up their own minds and stand back with your arms folded (that’s if you have arms) while we mess things up. Wouldn’t it just be easier if you did the thinking for us?
Hello God,
Sorry I don’t talk to you every night like I said I would, but you being so busy, I’m sure you understand. Sometimes when I go to bed I just flop like a rag doll I had years and years ago and fall fast asleep. Hey, do you ever sleep?
My nan has come to stay for a week. She’s sleeping in my bedroom in my bed. I’m sleeping on an uncomfortable blow-up mattress on the floor as far away from Nan as I can get. She snores and makes little whistling sounds. She also puts her false teeth in a glass before she goes to
But sometimes there’s this business of being a kid, wanting to be liked, worrying about how you look, having the feeling that you’re all alone even when your family is around you. This gets in the way of feeling lucky.
Hello God,
School is a heap of brick buildings stuck together with bunches of trees around them. School is a teacher blowing a whistle. School is a lot of kids standing in lines, waiting for instructions, then one following the other into classrooms. School is about learning maths and English, reading and writing. School is a battleground sometimes. Some kids punch. Others use bad language. Some are just annoying.
A new girl has come into our class. Nobody really likes her. Her name is Stephanie. She tries tomake us like her by offering us cucumber sandwiches. Cucumber sandwiches? If you’ve ever tasted them you’d understand. But I suppose you don’t need to eat. Do you? You’re missing out on some good stuff like chocolate ice-cream.
So, you’re probably wondering what’s wrong with Stephanie. School life in the playground is like playing snakes and ladders. (The board game—you’ve got that name on file, haven’t you?) If you are one of the in kids then you just keep climbing up the ladders. If you are not in , and there’s a kid in every class who isn’t in, then you just keep sliding down the snakes.
Stephanie has a small mouse-like face and little lips. She has thin, straight brown hair, and she never smiles. She always does her homework, and when the teacher asks a question she holds her hand up straight. She never waves it. She knows all the answers, too. She’s quiet. She’s different. She also eats weird sandwiches.
She wears glasses, so we call her four-eyes. That’s teasing. I think, God, it’s something you must want us to do, otherwise why would we do it? The thing is that she follows us around. Danielle, Stacey and me. Particularly me.
What do I do? I want to tell her to buzz off. She’s one of those dorky kids and if I’m seen with her I’ll be a dork too. Then the other kids will pick on me. I don’t want that to happen. I’ve never been really picked on, but I don’t think it would be fun.
I understand that you’re busy and there must be lots of kids like me telling you their problems. So send me a sign, or something, huh, just so I know you’ve heard me.
Dad went to a conference in Canberrayesterday where famous scientists talked about pollution. Dad doesn’t just care about the rest of the galaxy, he cares about Earth as well. I thought I’d tell you about that because I know that must worry you a lot.
I asked Mum today why people do bad things like mess up the planet. After all, Earth is our home. I asked her about you, too. ‘Why doesn’t God fix things up? Why does he leave a lot of the important things to us?’
Mum said, ‘Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.’ She sipped her cup of tea for the longest time. Then she said, ‘People have free will. That means they can make up their own minds.’ She said that she believes that you gave people choices, maybe for reasons that we can’t understand, but that you always hoped that we’d make good choices.
Well, now I’m wondering why you’d givepeople the right to make up their own minds and stand back with your arms folded (that’s if you have arms) while we mess things up. Wouldn’t it just be easier if you did the thinking for us?
Hello God,
Sorry I don’t talk to you every night like I said I would, but you being so busy, I’m sure you understand. Sometimes when I go to bed I just flop like a rag doll I had years and years ago and fall fast asleep. Hey, do you ever sleep?
My nan has come to stay for a week. She’s sleeping in my bedroom in my bed. I’m sleeping on an uncomfortable blow-up mattress on the floor as far away from Nan as I can get. She snores and makes little whistling sounds. She also puts her false teeth in a glass before she goes to
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