My Heart

Posted February 14, 2017 & filed under Notebook.

My heart

is the sea

brushing on

the rocks

My heart

is an invincible

sumo wrestler

My heart is


morning over

and over

My heart

is fierce,

an unbelievable


It is all true

because it is

my heart.

By Nelson, 3rd grade

Originally published Dec 10, 2010.

Gingerbread House

Posted December 18, 2013 & filed under Notebook.

I love to make gingerbread houses

because I can eat while I work

I use gummy bears and M&Ms

and lots of sprinkles everywhere

Marshmallows make perfect snow

and icing keeps it all together

except the year when it fell apart

By Jazz, 3rd grade

Where I’m From

Posted December 17, 2010 & filed under Notebook.

I’m from the smell

of strawberry muffins

and blueberry waffles.

I’m from the sound

of the blue waves,

from missing my

cousin’s voice.

I’m from laughter

and every time

we chased him around.

I’m from the sweet


that shines so bright.

I’m from Christmas

and nights when we

just have fun.

By Bria, 4th grade

Chocolate Ice Cream World

Posted December 16, 2010 & filed under Notebook.

I wonder what kind of dog I will have.
I hear the ocean.
I see the beach.
I want Christmas to come.

I am kind.

I pretend Christmas is here.
I feel a thousand feet tall.
I touch winter’s snow.
I worry about my mom and dad.

I cry for my mom when she is sick.

I am kind.

I understand math and science.
I dream I am a superhero.
I fly 100 miles per hour!
I try my best.
I hope the whole world
will be made of chocolate ice cream.

I am kind.

By Alexander, 2nd Grade

Photo by wintersoul1 via Flickr



Posted December 9, 2010 & filed under Notebook.

I love hot chocolate

and when Christmas

lights light up the

Christmas tree

I love holiday

shopping and opening

presents and snow on

Christmas morning

I love the smell

of gingerbread men

when they come

hot out of the oven

I love to make

round snowmen

with big tummies

I love when

Christmas lights light

up the town tonight.

By Jenna, 4th Grade

A Place

Posted December 8, 2010 & filed under Notebook.


Snow Snow

cold as ice

fun to play with

Snow Snow

pure snow water

diamond clear

ornaments hang

reach the sky

By Lily, 4th Grade

Photo by annkelliott via Flickr


Posted December 16, 2009 & filed under Notebook.

It is Christmas
and I am outside playing snowmen,
I mean snow women.
My grandmother, my mother,
my grandfather, my father, and I are all
outside lighting firecrackers.

The sound is loud as gunshots.
It hurts my eardrums but
the fireworks are colorful.
They look like flowers in
the night sky. It is real
cold outside. I am wearing
a pink, fluffy coat. The firecrackers
are flying up in the sky. My God-
brother and I are eating some of the
snowflakes as they fall. I smell fire
from the firecrackers, a sparkler in my hand
feels funny. I am throwing snowballs
at my family and they are throwing them
back to me. I let them hit me.
They’re cold.

Inside we have a contest to see
who can open their presents first. We drink
eggnog and we eat Santa cookies
and Rudolph cookies. We eat Popeye’s
chicken thighs, red beans and rice, and for dessert
we have Popeye’s apple pie. It’s still warm
in my mouth when we play
hide and seek in the backyard.

Whoever gets hit with a snowball is it.
I go across the street to get my best friend
and we play until my grandmother
comes to get me to go to my
great-grandmother’s house.
I like Christmas.

By Xythia, 10 years old

Where I’m From

Posted December 22, 2007 & filed under Notebook.

I am from toys,
from turkey and chicken.
I am from the garage.
(Relaxing, peaceful
I hear the birds singing.)
I am from roses,
beautiful and colorful
Christmas dinner I
as if I made it myself.
I’m from Christmas and being smart,
from Elvis and Isis.
I’m from liking pizza and always having someone to talk to,
from do your homework and be good in school.
I’m from Catholicism, we believe in God and
the tradition is to go to church
I’m from Houston, Texas, Guatemala and El Salvador,
tortillas and rice.
From my great-great grandmother who
is the image of the family
to my grandpa’s wife who is not really my grandma.elvis_wallpaper1024_1.jpg
Under my mom’s bed there was an
album of pictures;
they all had smiling faces.

by Carina, 3rd Grade