Hello! Back again and I think, I think things are going to settle into a routine and I may, I may be able to bring myself to the computer a bit more frequently.
I would love to share this poem Rachel wrote for an English assignment this week. I'm sharing it without editing so don't feel a need to correct her mistakes - this is how she'd put it if she were talking it out.
I shared a bit from the Art of Coming Home a while back. The transition has certainly had it's ups and downs. This poem reflects, in my mind, how Rachel as a "Third Culture Kid" (seriously, there's a whole book on this topic) sees herself. I thought it was beautiful and maybe it's just me, the mom, speaking but you can let me know:
I am from dusty old scrapbooks filled with happy memories. I am from foreign yearbooks sitting at the bottom of a closet shelf. I am from new pop CD’s and gossip magazines. I am from dark and milk creamy Swiss chocolate. I am from Thanksgiving pumpkin and apple pie making. I am from a hundred pens scattered all over desks and tables in my house. I am from peach colored sheep paintings from Stockholm. I am from camera’s that capture wonderful moments on trips to the Italian Riviera.
I am from nagging old habits. I am from dark sky blue Faberge eggs of Russia. I am from good-smelling perfume air freshener from France. I am from scenic postcards written by dearest friends. I am from funny and girly birthday cards going back to three years old. I am from the Harry Potter books, dark, mysterious and thrilling. I am from the mythical books of Percy Jackson, romantic and exciting.
I am from skiing on large, majestic Swiss alps, covered in powdery, crystal snow. I am from swimming in a deep green lake. I am from friends that will stay by my side through dark, scary and horrible times. I am from cream colored, silk soft sand of Oman. I am from computers that take seven minutes to start up. I am from a closet so messy that you can hardly see the cream colored carpet below.
I am from thick, delicious, moist vanilla cake with sugary, creamy chocolate frosting. I am from brown tinted sunglasses that are always clouded with finger prints. I am from a bright, lime green elementary school with windows framed with bright, strawberry red.
I am from long, steamy, and hot showers. I am from warm, moist Abigbrot eaten with hot and spicy chili on a cold winter night. I am from soft, sandy beaches with clear, turquoise water; lapping gently against the shore. I am from below zero degrees winters, with fresh snow every morning. I am from Christmases filled with mirth and warmth, from opening beautiful presents in the morning and playing in the new fallen snow in the afternoon. I am from these happy, sad and angry moments.
I can think of many other "froms" she could have shared but it's her work and reflects how she sees herself at this time. I'm from a lot of those places too.