The Racist Warehouse It was a beautiful August morning. The sun was brightly shining on my sunglasses while my mother drove the U-haul truck to a warehouse in Santa Ana, California. As my mother drove down the streets of Santa Ana, I looked out the window and began to realize that the mixture of people was no longer a mixture; there was only white. When we arrived at the warehouse, I had to peel my arm off the side of the hot door like a burnt sausage off a skillet. There were not many cars in the parking lot, and I could see the heat waves.

Giving Life It was a hot summer day. My dad and I were getting ready to go out for a ride on the boat with my friend Katie and the dog. That’s when the phone call came, the call that made that bright, beautiful day a cold, dark, gloomy one. I had just put on my suit, shorts, and tank top, and packed my bag with sunscreen and everything else I would need for the day. I ran into my parents’ room to find Dad. When I saw him on the phone, he was crying. I’d never seen my dad cry before. My heart sank. What possibly could have happened? “Max, I’m so sorry,” I heard him say. That’s when it hit me.

The Great Paw Paw Memory. The dictionary defines it as the mental ability to recall past experiences. We think of it as that picture we saw, the words she said. Who in your life is so vivid in your memory that you could describe him or her without a second thought? For me, it’s my grandpa. But when I was small, I couldn’t say “Grandpa,” so 13 years ago, Theodore Lazarus became Paw Paw. To all the grandkids, Paw Paw was full of fun and games. We all remember his favorite expressions, the ones that would pop out each time we saw him. Luckily, we visited Paw Paw quite often.

A Cowboy's Journal I am so upset at myself. I don’t know where my head was. Finally, here I was, with $80 to my name (which is meager compensation for a two-month cattle drive), and then I lose it all gambling. Just one night, and now I am bankrupt all over again. Yesterday was my 22nd birthday, as well as my payday, so I allowed myself a little gambling in Abilene, Kansas, a cow town.

Linden’s Library It was a normal Saturday on Oak Street—the same morning dew sparkling on the grass, the same cherry blossoms swaying in the breeze, the same daffodils bursting with color. Yes, as far as anyone could tell, it was a normal day in Washington, D.C. When Katie awoke, she got dressed, brushed her teeth and hair, and checked her “to do” list. Then she hurried down for breakfast: rich, fluffy, chocolate-chip pancakes; fresh orange juice; crispy bacon; and crunchy, buttered toast.

How the Stars Came to Be Long ago and once upon a time, there lived a princess. Her name was Oriana, and her entire court loved her. She always helped those in need and had a smile for everyone. Oriana wasn’t vain, although she had every reason to be. She had wavy, raven hair that fell past her knees; pure, olive skin; and a face that was perfectly oval. Her real beauty, however, lay in her eyes. Whenever Oriana felt an emotion strongly, they changed from their usual ebony to true gold. It seemed that nothing could make her angry; but alas, it was not so.