“We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars.”
– Oscar Wilde
Snowflakes danced in the air
lightly drifting towards the frozen ground.
I trudged through the snow
in my cozy pink boots.
This was before I can even remember
when the days came slow and happily
and my little head
had nothing to think about
other than catching
one of the falling white dots on my tongue.
My father stood behind me,
waiting with his arms outstretched
in case I stumbled.
My mother was by the window
sipping on a mug of hot chocolate
and watching me laugh as white flakes
landed on my rosy cheeks.
I stomped and picked up
chunks of cold snow with my mittens,
they crumpled and fell
in lumps onto the ground.
Sometimes I try to remember
what it was like back then
when our family unit
was wound tight and secure.
I try to grasp those days
when my mother was content
and my father satisfied.
Most times my memories
and the stories told to me
are meshed together
into a quilt of recollections
of different times.
But the present
and the past
seem disconnected
in ways
I cannot understand.
People have difficulty
in moving on.
One moment
can live in our
hearts until
the day we die.
One day
can damage our
lives forever.
So this is my story,
it needs to be heard.
Because a moment
is why
I am who I am.
Laura Haskin is in the eighth grade at the Masterman School. She enjoys painting, drawing, writing, and reading (of course).