MacKenzie Isabelle Evans slammed shut the fat book on her lap. She slid out of the big overstuffed chair by the wood stove. The book slid to the floor.
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“Nothing’s the matter!” Mac hollered. “Just come over! I just got the best Christmas present in the world! I can’t even believe it!”
“What’s the matter with you?” Mac demanded. “This is the third game you’ve said you don’t want to play!” She ticked the games off on her fingers. “First, we played Dominoes and you quit. Then we played Go Fish, and you said it was a silly game. Now you don’t want to play Checkers. What do you want to do?”
By Linda Porter Carlyle Joseph Anderson Donetti stared at the ceiling from where he sleepily lay on the living room rug. He gave a contented sigh. Rain drummed against the side of the house, but the woodstove filled the room with comforting warmth. He heard a tiny rustling sound as G.M. turned a page of
Joseph Anderson Donetti hurried down the hall to his classroom. He hoped he wasn’t late. He hated being late.
MacKenzie Isabelle Evans watched a large brown maple leaf drift down to the sidewalk. She promptly stomped on it and grinned at the crunching sound. Autumn was her favorite time of the year. And leaf stomping was one of her favorite autumn activities.
By Linda Porter Carlyle Hannah Maria Estevez tugged at her mother’s sleeve. “What are those ladies doing?” she whispered. Mama looked up from the can label she was reading to see two women gesturing excitedly with their hands farther down the aisle. “They are talking to each other in sign language,” she explained. “The women
Trevor Paul Monroe sprawled across the bed on his stomach. He chewed the end of his stubby pencil while he read the story problem in his math book. Story problems! Trevor sighed. He wished story problems had never been invented. “If Tom sold his outgrown roller blades to Mitch, how many birthday cards did Jenny receive?”
