Making Sarah Cry
by Cheryl Costello-Forshay
He stood among his friends from school,
And he joined their childhood games
Laughing as they played kickball
And when they called poor Sarah names.
Sarah was unlike the rest;
She was slow and not as smart,
And it would seem to all his friends
She was born without a heart.
And so he gladly joined their fun
Of making Sarah cry.
But somewhere deep within his heart,
He never knew just why.
For he could hear his mother�s voice,
Her lessons of right and wrong
Playing over and over inside his head
Just like a favorite song.
�Treat others with respect, son,
The way you�d want them treating you.
And remember, when you hurt others,
Someday, someone might hurt you.�
He knew his mother wouldn�t understand
The purpose of their game
Of teasing Sarah, who made them laugh
As her own tears fell like rain.
The funny faces that she made
And they way she�d stomp her feet
Whenever they mocked they way she walked
Or stutter when she�d speak.
To him she must deserve it
Because she never tried to hide.
And if she truly wanted to be left alone,
Then she should stay inside.
But every day she�d do the same:
She�d come outside to play,
And stand there, tears upon her face,
Too upset to run away.
The game would soon be over,
As tears dropped from her eyes,
For the purpose of their fun
Was making Sarah cry.
It was nearly two whole months
He hadn�t seen his friends.
He was certain they all must wonder
What happened and where he�d been
So he felt a little nervous
As he limped his way to class.
He hoped no one would notice,
He prayed no one would ask
About that awful day:
The day his bike met with a car,
Leaving him with a dreadful limp
And jagged -looking scar.
So he held his breath a little
As he hobbled into the room,
Where inside he saw a �Welcome Back� banner
And lots of red balloons.
He felt a smile cross his face
As his friends all smiled, too
And he couldn�t wait to play outside-
His favorite thing to do.
So the second he stepped outdoors
And saw all his friends waiting there,
He expected a few pats on the back-
Instead, they all stood back and stared.
He felt his face grow hotter
As he limped to join their side
To play a game of kickball
And of making Sarah Cry.
An awkward smile crossed his face
When he heard somebody laugh
And he heard the words, �Hey freak,
Where�d you get the ugly mask?�
He turned expecting Sarah,
But Sarah could not be seen.
It was the scar upon his own face
That caused such words so mean.
He joined their growing laughter,
Trying hard not to give in
To the awful urge inside to cry
Or the quivering of his chin.
They are only teasing,
He made himself believe.
They are still my friends;
They�d never think of hurting me.
But the cruel remarks continued
About the scar and then his limp.
And he knew if he shed a single tear
They�d label him a wimp.
And so the hurtful words went on,
And in his heart he wondered why.
But he knew without a doubt
The game would never end, until they made him cry.
And just when a tear had formed,
A voice spoke out from behind.
�Leave him alone you bullies,
Because he�s a friend of mine.�
He turned to see poor Sarah,
Determination on her face,
Sticking up for on of her own tormentors
And willing to take his place.
And when they did just that,
Trying their best to make poor Sarah cry,
This time he didn�t join in,
And at last he understood exactly why.
�Treat others with respect, son,
The way you�d want them treating you.
And remember, when you hurt others,
Someday, someone might hurt you.�
It took a lot of courage
But he knew he must be strong,
For at last he knew the difference
Between what�s right and wrong.
And Sarah didn�t seem so weird
Through his understanding eyes.
Now he knew he�d never play again
The game of making Sarah cry.
It took several days of teasing
And razzing from his friends,
But when they saw his strength,
They chose to be like him.
And now out on the playground,
A group of kids meets every day
For a game of kickball and laughter
And teaching their new friend, Sarah, how to play.
Somebody Should Have Taught Him
Retold by Jane Watkins
I went to a birthday party,
But remembered what you said.
You told me not to drink at all.
So I had a Sprite instead.
I felt proud of myself,
The way you said I would,
That I didn�t choose to drink and drive,
Though some of my friends said I should.
I knew I made a healthy choice
And your advice to me was right
As the party finally ended
And the kids drove out of sight.
I got into my own car,
Sure to make it home in one piece,
Never knowing what was coming.
Something I expected least.
Now I�m lying on the pavement.
I can hear the policeman say,
�The kid that caused this wreck was drunk�
His voice seems far away.
My own blood is all around me,
As I try hard not to cry.
I can hear a paramedic say,
�This girl is going to die.�
I�m sure the guy had no idea,
While he was flying high,
Because he chose to drink and drive
That I would have to die.
So why do people do it,
Knowing it ruins lives?
But now the pain is cutting me
like a hundred stabbing knives.
Tell my sister not to be afraid,
Tell Daddy to be brave,
And when I go to heaven
To put �Daddy�s Girl� on my grave.
Somebody should have taught him
That it�s wrong to drink and drive.
Maybe if his mom and dad had
I�d still be alive.
My breath is getting shorter�
I�m getting really scared.
These are my final moments,
And I�m so unprepared.
I wish that you could hold me, Mom,
As I lie here and die.
I wish that I could say
I love you and goodbye.
The Graduation Speech
by Cheryl Costello-Forshay
Jesse was well liked by everyone, so everybody anticipated what he had to say
As he walked up to the microphone, on graduation day.
For a moment he remained silent, as he peered at the faces from his senior class,
And then Jesse leaned into the microphone, and finally spoke at last.
�As your class president, I�m here to speak to you today.
I was up most of the night, considering what words that I should say.
I reminisced on school days, and all the many things I�ve done,
So many thoughts came to mind, but my thoughts kept me focusing on one.�
And then Jesse held up a photo, and he moved it all around,
As everyone leaned to view it, and silence was the only sound.
You could hear a pin drop, as Jesse placed the picture in full view,
And began talking of a classmate that no one really knew.
�Charlie�s life seemed meaningless, compared to yours and mine,
Because none of us understood him, we never took the time.
We saw only what we wanted to, that Charlie was not cool,
He was far from being popular, the butt of all our jokes in school.
�That�s what we knew of Charlie, that much we decided on our own,
He simply wasn�t worth our time; he was an outsider who deserved to be alone.
But you see Charlie had a passion, deep within he had a dream,
It was his one desire, to play soccer for our team.
And of course that was ludicrous, it was totally absurd,
Charlie was no athlete; he was the senior nerd.
In gym class he was never captain, he was always chosen last,
He was the poster child for unpopular, he preferred history, science, and math.
�And some of us took it upon ourselves to keep Charlie from wanting to play,
For weeks we taunted him with insults, day after day after day.
We made sure he wasn�t welcomed, by anyone else on the team,
For whatever foolish reasons, we were set on destroying his dream.
And I�m here now to tell you, as your class president, I was wrong.
I�m here to speak for Charlie, who couldn�t be here, because you see he�s gone.�
Jesse paused for a moment, to give time for his words to sink in,
As he looked about the faces of parents, teachers, and friends
�I�m not sure if you all know it, I�m not sure if anyone cares,
But the reason Charlie isn�t with us is a reason I feel I must share.
Cruel words they are definitely weapons, they destroyed Charlie�s body and soul,
For all of the taunting and teasing left Charlie feeling out of control.
�And Charlie, alone in a battle, gathered his weapons to fight.
He purchased some drugs from a dealer; his mother found his body last night.
Maybe it was only an accident, maybe Charlie wanted to die,
But no matter how it happened, we as his classmates know why.
For who hasn�t been teased, or made to feel unbearable shame,
I�m certain that everyone in this room has endured some heartache and pain.
And maybe boys will be boys and girls will be girls, and we each have our battles to fight,
But no matter our justification, hurting Charlie was never right.�
And Jesse took Charlie�s picture and held it in firm in his hand,
And spoke to the photo before him, words unrehearsed and unplanned.
�If only I�d helped you somehow, given you guidance to conquer your dream,
If only a teacher, a classmate, if someone would just have intervened.
But I know I can never go back, I can never undo what has been.
For you will never receive your diploma, or ever play soccer again.
But deep in my heart I wonder, I can�t help asking what if�
I would have reached out to you Charlie,
Would you school years have ended like this?�
Jesse stood lost in his thoughts, of a life that ended too soon,
Until muffled coughs caught his attention,
and nervous whispers began filling the room.
And then Jesse turned with a smile, before retreating back to his chair,
Teaching a valuable lesson, with his final words filling the air:
�I would like to introduce our valedictorian, he will be speaking today,
Please give him your full attention, please hear all that he has to say.�
And then Jesse set Charlie�s picture down on the podium facing the crowd,
As silence told Charlie�s story, a message quite convincingly loud.
Us Two
by A.A.Mline
Wherever I am, there's always Pooh,
There's always Pooh and Me.
Whatever I do, he wants to do,
"Where are you going today?" says Pooh:
"Well, that's very odd 'cos I was too.
Let's go together," says Pooh, says he.
"Let's go together," says Pooh.
"What's twice eleven?" I said to Pooh,
("Twice what?" said Pooh to Me.)
"I think it ought to be twenty-two."
"Just what I think myself," said Pooh.
"It wasn't an easy sum to do,
But that's what it is," said Pooh, said he.
"That's what it is," said Pooh.
"Let's look for dragons," I said to Pooh.
"Yes, let's," said Pooh to Me.
We crossed the river and found a few -
"Yes, those are dragons all right," said Pooh.
"As soon as I saw their beaks I knew.
That's what they are," said Pooh, said he.
"That's what they are," said Pooh.
"Let's frighten the dragons." I said to Pooh.
"That's right," said Pooh to Me.
"I'm not afraid," I said to Pooh,
And I held his paw and I shouted , "Shoo!
Silly old dragons!" - and off they flew.
"I wasn't afraid," said Pooh, said he,
"I'm never afraid with you."
So wherever I am, there's always Pooh,
There's always Pooh and Me.
"What would I do?" I said to Pooh,
"If it wasn't for you," and Pooh said: "True,
It isn't much fun for One, but Two
Can stick together," says Pooh, says he.
"That's how it is," says Pooh.
Daddy's Day
by Cheryl Costello-Forshay
Her hair up in a ponytail, her favorite dress tied with a bow
Today was Daddy's Day at school, and she couldn't wait to go
But her mommy tried to tell her, that she probably should stay home
Why the kids might not understand, if she went to school alone
But she was not afraid; she knew just what to say
What to tell her classmates, on this Daddy's Day
But still her mother worried, for her to face this day alone
And that was why once again, she tried to keep her daughter home
But the little girl went to school, eager to tell them all
About a dad she never sees, a dad who never calls
There were daddies along the wall in back, for everyone to meet
Children squirming impatiently, anxious in their seats
One by one the teacher called, a student from the class
To introduce their daddy, as seconds slowly passed
At last the teacher called her name, every child turned to stare
Each of them were searching, for a man that wasn't there
"Where's her daddy at?" She heard a boy call out
"She probably doesn't have one." Another student dared to shout
And from somewhere near the back, she heard a daddy say
"Looks like another deadbeat dad, too busy to waste his day."
The words did not offend her, as she smiled at her friends
And looked back at her teacher, who told her to begin
And with hands behind her back, slowly she began to speak
And out from the mouth of a child, came words incredibly unique
"My Daddy couldn't be here, because he lives so far away
But I know he wishes he could be, with me on this day
And though you cannot meet him, I wanted you to know
All about my daddy, and how much he loves me so
He loved to tell me stories, he taught me to ride my bike
He surprised me with pink roses, and he taught me to fly a kite
We used to share fudge sundaes, and ice cream in a cone
And though you cannot see him, I'm not standing all alone
'Cause my daddy's always with me, even though we are apart
I know because he told me, he'll forever be here in my heart"
With that her little hand reached up, and lay across her chest
Feeling her own heartbeat, beneath her favorite dress
And from somewhere in the crowd of dads, her mother stood in tears
Proudly watching her daughter, who was wise beyond her years
For she stood up for the love, of a man not in her life
Doing what was best for her, doing what was right
And when she dropped her hand back down, staring straight into the crowd
She finished with a voice so soft, but its message clear and loud
"I love my daddy very much, he's my shining star
And if he could he'd be here, but heavens just too far
But sometimes when I close my eyes, it's like he never went away"
And then she closed her eyes, and saw him there that day
And to her mother's amazement, she witnessed with surprise
A room full of daddies and children, all starting to close their eyes
Who knows what they saw before them, who knows what they felt inside
Perhaps for merely a second, they saw him at her side
"I know you're with me daddy." To the silence she called out
And what happened next made believers, of those once filled with doubt
Not one in that room could explain it, for each of their eyes had been closed
But there placed on her desktop, was a beautiful fragrant pink rose
And a child was blessed, if only a moment, by the love of her shining bright star
And given the gift of believing, that heaven is never too far
Fingerpaints & Crayons
by Cheryl Costello-Forshay
With chalk in hand she wrote her name, across a board once bare
And then she sat behind her desk, without a single care
And for fifteen minutes, she did not make a sound
Until the final student, had finally settled down
Then she stood before them, and told them all her name
And then politely asked, each student to do the same
Then without hesitation, she took papers from a sack
And placed them in two piles, one white, the other black
And deliberately quite slowly, with a slight and mischief smile
She began handing out the papers, up and down each aisle
And once each student had a piece; she continued within their sights
To gather two piles of crayons, one black, the other white
And then she took a painting, from behind her walnut desk
Then placed a painter's smock, overtop her navy dress
And to no one unparticular, she spoke in peaceful tones
"I've been working on this painting, for years in my own home"
She stood staring at the painting, its brilliant colors mixed as one
Upon a vast horizon, the presence of a sun
It indeed was not a Rembrandt, a Picasso, or Michelangelo to say the least
But it nonetheless was beautiful; its presence spoke of peace
And no doubt that lovely painting, had taken so much time
For every color known to man, seemed to intertwine
And so it came with wonder, what they witnessed with surprise
The act that took them all off guard, done right before their eyes
With finger-paints now gathered, and opened on her desk
She smeared the colors upon her hands, in an entangled awful mess
And then as though she'd lost her mind, she smeared her hands across
The painting once so beautiful . . . now a total loss
It did not make a bit of sense, they did not understand
As they sat and watched their teacher, wipe the paints from off her hands
And then she took the crayons, and went up and down the rows
And handed to each student, the colors that she chose
"Now", she told her students, "I want you to create
A picture filled with beauty, devoid of any hate"
Mouths dropped open widely; mumbles filled the room
And students looked to one another, as unasked questions seemed to loom
For the students with white paper, were given crayons the same shade
And the students with black crayons, had been given, a raven colored page
And how could one create splendor, with no colors to mix and match
The students were quite certain, their teacher had left out most the facts
"Teacher", a student's voice was heard, "I'm not sure I can"
Staring at the white crayon, and white paper in her hand
Silence overtook the room; it eerily crept about
Causing the teacher's gentle voice, to erupt into a shout
"You each share the same problem, you each possess the power to resolve
But only the students with open-minds, will have the ability to solve"
Minutes ticked away, class was nearing to an end
And not one single student, knew quite how to begin
And when the bell rang out, and they hurried to their feet
Their teacher told them commandingly, to return back to their seat
"Before you leave this classroom, I think you each should know
For this assignment you receive a failing grade, for you have no work to show
And tomorrow and the next day, your assignment shall be the same
And those who fail my class, will have only themselves to blame"
The next day and the following, students weren't quite sure what to do
Until at last, a solution, began to surface through
When one student with his crayon, and paper both in black
Turned to the student behind him and asked, "May I borrow that?"
The student hesitated, but then gave up his crayon made of white
And ultimately the assignment, no longer seemed a plight
For students all throughout the class, switched crayons up and down the aisles
And certain that they'd found the solution, their faces lit with smiles
And just as every student began to draw, across an empty page
The teacher whom they'd all began, to see as certainly quite strange . . .
Collected all the pages and crayons, without a single mark
And then spoke a loud, "thank you, for bringing hope into my heart
You see, I wanted you to realize, that in order to create
A picture filled with beauty, devoid of any hate
You needed first to recognize, that a problem did exist
And that a practical solution, could be found within your midst
And that racism is a problem, each of us must face
Working all as one, before it's much too late
And with open eyes and open hearts, we must see the person, not the color of their skin
And come to the understanding, that racism has to end
For together we are family, we cry tears, we all feel pain
And though we may not look the part, inside we're all the same
And we battle over crayons, that's exactly what we do
For crayons are just colors, that's all our skin is too"
Students looked about the room, a variety of colors on their skin
As the point she was trying to make, began to settle in
The looks upon their faces, readily explained
That they each were trying to contemplate: that indeed they were the same
A nervous shuffling of papers, and coughs throughout the room
Portraying the vital image, that fighting over crayons was a stupid thing to do
It was then each student realized, the purpose of crayons and papers the same shade
Was to prove they each needed the other color, to help fill their empty page
Silence seized the moment, as one student raised his open hand
And then spoke in hesitation, "I just don't understand . . .
Why you took your painting, the one you seemed to enjoy so very much
Gathered up your finger-paints, to destroy it in a touch"
Sadness filled her face, as a tear trailed upon her cheek
And in slow and heartfelt words, she began to speak
"To show you each that colors can be beautiful, but they also can destroy
Everything we love and work for, everything we each enjoy
And the destruction of something that I loved, was to make a point to you
That racism destroys the beauty in us all,
And that fighting over colors, is a wasteful thing to do"