Michael Arthur Patterson tipped his head to one side and ran his fingers over the oddly-shaped piece of wood Mr. Fontaine had just handed him. Four little legs, so it must be an animal.
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So Solly took a deep breath, let it out in a sigh, and quietly petted Sultan until his eyes stopped showing fear. Then he took extra time brushing Sultan down gently before putting him into his stall for the night and filling his feed dish.
Kenya’s eyes opened wide. “That’s what happened to us!” she exclaimed. Then she put her hand over her mouth.
By Debbonnaire Kovacs Solomon Nassim El-Charif was whispering to himself and looking worried. If any of his friends could have heard him, they wouldn’t have understood a single word he said. Solly had been thinking a lot about the program the primaries planned to have in the park next Sabbath. What could he do? He
Michael Arthur Patterson carefully lifted one finger at a time off the holes in his recorder. Each time he lifted another finger, the note he played was higher.
By Debbonnaire Kovacs Solomon Nassim El-Charif bit his lip and studied the paper before him on the table. Writing was so hard for him! He wished he was poetic like Susannah. She wrote all kinds of stuff. Kenya, of course, had finished quickly and was now decorating her paper with stars and glitter and crayon
Solomon Nassim El-Charif looked around the Sabbath dinner table at his family. “Mother, you’re wearing blue. You can be my partner.”
Susannah May Farmer’s room was a little messy. Actually, it was a lot messy. OK, the truth was, the goat stall looked better!
Michael Arthur Patterson ran around with his hands out, laughing. Running into a body, he grabbed hold, calling out, “I got Susannah! Susannah’s it!”
