Blast From the Past

Peace

As soft as the flowers blooming in springtime,
With the wonderful, surprisingly sweet smell of the evening,
And with the waterfall splashing into the river
It makes me feel like a butterfly fluttering softly through the trees.

By Davonne Parks, written at age 14

Have you ever?

Have you ever wondered who made the river run?
Or who put the sky in front of the sun?
Who made the grass green,
Or the birds sing?

Who put the stars next to the moon,
Making the evening end so soon?
Or who made the flowers scent
As pretty as a peppermint?

Have you ever wondered who made the sound of someone’s laugh
As refreshing as a clear water glass?
Or who made it possible to love
Something as simple as a beautiful white dove?

Who gave us the hope to trust
And love, and do as one must?
Who gave us peace of mind,
Not knowing what we may find?

There’s only one answer
Only one hope, one love
One joy, one faith, one Truth
Only one God.

By Davonne Parks, written at age 12

I AM

I am a teenage girl.
I wonder who it is I am intended to spend the rest of my life with.
I hear my heart pounding in my ears so loudly it is deafening.
I can see myself and, at the same time, wonder how others see me.
I want to live a fulfilling life and, when I die, to be with my Maker for all eternity.
I am a teenage girl.

I pretend that I am a well known writer.
I feel the pressure of succeeding weighing heavily on my heart.
I touch the moon, feeling it slip slowly through my fingertips.
I worry that I will not complete the work in this world that I was meant to complete.
I cry when I think of something someone did for me, so I may have the hope of eternal life.
I am a teenage girl.

I understand the pain of losing someone close to you.
I say there is a perfect plan for everyone on this earth, myself included.
I dream of one day touching the stars.
I try to make others feel happy, just by knowing someone cares.
I hope that one day I will have a beautiful family.
I am a teenage girl.
But, more importantly, I am me.

By Davonne Parks, written at age 14