Somebody Else

We have always been a family that just seems to have a lot of bad luck. Nothing that we can't overcome, but enough to make you wonder "why me?" sometimes. This reminds me of no real specific memory, but more like a fabricated memory kind of thing. I see myself and my mom riding in the car going to Chicago to visit my sister. Things have already started to go wrong. Just a bunch of simple things though. We woke up late because our alarms didn't go off. We didn't leave town at the time we meant to. We didn't get to eat breakfast because we woke up late. We missed our exit. The air conditioning in the car isn't working. Then we're finally getting close to the city, and we start hitting the toll booths. Toll booths already suck, but after the day we've had, dropping the change for the toll on the ground is just the breaking point. We both get really frustrated and mad at each other for things that haven't really been that big of a deal. Then we look up and see a missing child poster and it puts everything into perspective for us. My mom has always been the kind of person who always says "as bad as things might seem, somebody else always has it worse" or something along those lines. As bad as our morning might have been, we don't have anybody in our family that has gone missing or anything like that. It makes both of us chill out and realize it's going to be okay and we're upset over nothing. We just dig out some more change and continue on with our day.

slept through the alarm
missed breakfast
no time for a shower

Neema's Smiling Eyes

This summer I had a job at Kanakuk Kamps in Branson, Missouri. I was a camp counselor there for a month and each week I would get 12 girls in my group and I would get to know them individually and do fun activities with them. The camp is a life changing experience for those that come to it, I just never realized the impact it would have on me. I remember one day of kayaking classes I taught while working at camp. After I explained to all the girls about kayaking and the game they were going to play while out there, I get them all into their kayaks and we head out onto the water. I head out in my kayak and watch the girls laugh and play while they are paddling around playing a game. I just sit them in my kayak and let the waves take me when they want to go. Just watching those girls have no cares in the world and constant smiles on their faces was a joy to see. It got better when I see one of my girls not really playing the game, but just kayaking all over the place. I start paddling into her direction. The girl's name is Neema and she is a refugee from Congo. She was sent to the camp for the week by some nice generous people. Neema has not experienced many of what a normal kid at the camp has experienced before. Everything she did was special because usually it was the first time she had ever done it. That was the case with kayaking. I went over to her and we did not really talk much. She spoke limited English so I would always have to ask yes or no questions to get an answer out of her. Neema looked at me with a smile on her face and curiosity in her eyes. Together we started exploring the banks of the lake in our kayaks. Our kayaks would just glide across the water and Neema's eyes would just wander around looking at all the nature that surrounded her. I just followed her the rest of the time and it made my heart content seeing her enjoy something as much as she was. Her smiling in that red kayak of hers in an image I won't forget for a long time.

paddling away
waves reflect her eyes
no words needed

The Beast

When I was in 5th grade I was a paperboy for my neighborhood and carried a huge bag full of newspapers. I would rollerblade to each house and toss the papers onto their front step. The last house on my route always scared me because their driveway was full of little stones and wasn't smooth. This made it extremely difficult to rollerblade on without falling. I also would notice a gigantic dog bed with a half eaten bone on it on my way up to the driveway, but I had never seen the dog. Most days I escaped from the house safely, but one day was much different than the others. I approached the driveway and headed to the front door until I was stopped dead in my tracks. My eyes were locked with a huge Rottweiler's eyes while he destroyed a bone in the yard. I remember murmuring the words; "Uhhh nice doggy?" then threw the newspaper at the door and took off on my rollerblades. The gigantic beast lunged towards me barking liked it wanted to rip my head off. I tried to rollerblade as fast as I could, but I took a tumble over the stony driveway. My arms and knees were scraped up and bloody. I turned over to look at the dog right as it was jumping to attack me. The dog launched at me, but its chain was not long enough to reach me and it got pulled back. I sprung up and took off toward home thanking God for saving my life that day. Ever since that incident, I refuse to go anywhere near that house when I am walking or biking.

half eaten bone
between the jaws of a monster
our eyes meet

Into the Evening Lights

Many summer days throughout the years my family, in particular my father, gets a group of friends together to play soccer. We have a fairly large side yard and two goal areas that we use. It has always been a favorite thing of mine to do because I get to spend time with my family and friends in a great, and slightly competitive, environment. It is always warm outside with clear skies with the occasionally humid day. Every time we play we go from the sun being high in the sky until the sun sets and we cannot see anymore. The soft ground under my feet, and the grass being torn up from playing so much take me back to when we would have upwards of twenty people come over and play with us. The last time I played before coming to school was a great time. My dad and I were kicking the ball until my sister brought some of her friends, and from then we started playing with teams. It was four against four and we had a long and drawn out game that went close until we scored ten goals. The second set of playing we did also lasted a long time but we were off by one goal and lost it. For a tie breaker we played one last one 5 and we were all so tired. By then it was only two against two because some people had to leave. My dad and I were against my sister and one of our friends. The game went into the evening and we eventually brought out lights so we could finish. After five hours of playing, my dad and I took the final goals and making it five to four. The exhaustion that we felt and drenched clothing that clung to us was a gross and bad feeling yet somehow satisfying. It was a wonderful thing to experience before coming back to Millikin. I have always loved spending time with my family.

old and worn
the goal nets
from summers past

Movie Night

Although this haiku was talked about a lot in class, I couldn't resist writing about it for my memoire of my childhood. Because this haiku encompasses many days in my childhood, I will describe a typical one that I have experienced. I remember waking up on a bed of blankets and pillows in the living room of my home. The scent of what is cooking on the stove as well as the soft speaking from the living room television is what wakes me up from my slumber. I am reminded of the fun of last night, my cousins coming over to my house and watching scary movies before falling asleep hours after midnight. My cousins are awake around me, watching television, and I am consumed with a feeling of togetherness and comfort. My father is the one cooking breakfast. He is making pancakes from the box, as well as cooking up bacon and sausage on a separate griddle. This mixture of all three is enough to wake anybody up. I am reminded that it is Saturday, and I have an entire day to do whatever I want with no obligations and no school the following day, and I am instantly overjoyed. The breakfast tastes better knowing it is a weekend. We decide to spend the rest of the morning finishing a movie we didn't finish the night before, as many of us fell asleep. But we are no longer scared since it is now daytime. My dog walks into the living room and sits with the rest of the family, and it feels like I am surrounded by everything I love. Everything feels so simple, and I am so lucky to have this life and family. The rest of the day I spend doing whatever I want. We go outside and play wiffle ball in my backyard in the afternoon. After that, we ride bikes around my subdivision with my neighborhood friends, and we all get along and have fun. These were times where I didn't have anything to worry about. As the sun starts to go down, we go back inside and my parents take us to dinner. Afterwards, we drop my cousins off at their house and say goodbye. But we know we will most likely see them in just a few days. Knowing this makes me warm inside, and I am once again grateful to be surrounded by such loving family.

bed of blankets
soft glow of the television
morning sunlight through a curtained window

Saturday Morning

Saturdays, when I was younger, meant watching morning cartoons with my sister. I'll always remember that instead of sitting on the living room furniture that was across the room from the TV, my sister and I would bring blankets and pillows downstairs from our bedrooms and lay as close to the Tv as we possibly could while watching. After a few hours of watching cartoons, I remember that my parents used to come downstairs from their bedroom. After they came downstairs, one would head into the kitchen to begin making breakfast while the other would come into the living room to say good morning to my sister and I and to ask how we slept the night before. Following the short conversation, my sister and I would go back to watching cartoons while both parents would then be in the kitchen getting breakfast ready together. I can distinctly recall the feint sounds from the kitchen ion the background of whatever cartoon was on at the time. There was sounds of talking and laughing between my parents, sounds of the stove and oven beeping to signify that food was either ready to begin cooking or that the food was done, and I remember the sounds of the food crackling on the stove as it was being cooked. The smell of the different foods would soon take over the house, one week it was pancakes, the next waffles, the next eggs and bacon, the next biscuits and gravy. And each Saturday, I remember ending the morning with a family breakfast full of good food, good company, and good memories.

Saturday morning cartoons
two children wait
patiently for a family breakfast

Speedy Moma Bear

This past summer my mom, dad, sister, and I visited Estes Park, Colorado for the first time. We whitewater rafted the Poudre River, went on an off-roading tour through Roosevelt National Forest, visited the Stanley Hotel, and hiked many miles through Rocky Mountain National Park. However, the most memorable experience was hiking through Rocky Mountain National Park on our second day in Estes Park. We hiked out to Fern Falls, a 3.4-mile hike from the trail head that we started at, and were heading back to the trail head when clouds began to roll in. Rain was coming. Fast. None of us in the Maynard family decided to pack our rain jackets as we were leaving the hotel that morning. We should've known better as we knew the weather could change quick in the mountains but simply forgot. Due to this lack of proper rain gear, we decided to pick up the pace so that we wouldn't get rained on. We put tour heads down, watched where we were stepping and speed-walked our way back to the trail head. About a mile from the trail head an older fellow about 30 yards in front of us pointed into the brush and called out, "Did you guys see that? It looked bigger than a deer." We responded by saying no and stopped for a second to see what it was the man saw. Then we saw it. Something moved in the brush, something bigger than a deer. Something that was a bear. That bear, whose head was down in the grass, was no more than 30 yards from where we were standing on the trail. We were whispering to each other in amazement when the bear looked up and right at us all of sudden. I stepped closer to the man who stopped us to try and get a picture. The bear must not have liked that as he began to take a step towards us. I immediately put my phone in my pocket and quickly continued on my way down the trail. Nothing ended up happening to us on that day, other than getting rained on for a short period of time, but I did learn something about my mom. I learned that she may be the glue that holds our family together but if there is a bear nearby, that glue quickly turns into a big 'ol scaredy cat who will leave her family behind to get attacked by a bear. I love my mom.

in a rush
rain coming
a bear stops us

Wet Socks

This summer, I visited Disney World with my mom, dad, sister (Adara), and my sister's friend (Haley). We arrived at the resort around noon, and then headed straight to the Animal Kingdom, filled with excitement. At nine o'clock at night, we had fast passes to visit the new Pandora attraction, so we decided to just stay there all day. Throughout the entire day, it was pelting down rain on and off. My family purchased rain ponchos, which protected us from the recurring, Florida showers. By the time nine came around, we were all wet, tired, and grouchy. Despite our awful moods, we decided to still go to the attraction.

As I entered Pandora, I was suddenly covered in black lights. Hanging over the path were black lights,glow-in-the-dark flowers and plants on my left and right. The rain falling from the sky glowed from the lighting and made the pavement shimmer. My sister and her friend wore white t-shirts, that radiated light blue, under the intense luminosity. I took my phone from my pink purse, and began to photograph the beautiful scenery around me. Ahead of me, I witnessed Adara and Haley capturing selfies, and pretended not to notice. In the distance, I could see a few extremely, large boulders with a ragged rope bridge in between. The enormous rocks hold areas of bright greenery and a waterfall that shimmers electric blue, standing out because of the surrounding darkness. My family and I speeded for cover, under a boulder, that's suspended between the two surrounding rocks. Over the course of that wet Thursday, my rain poncho ripped several times allowing water into it. By this time, I had tolerated feeling damp and chilly for too lengthy a time.

Irritability was beginning to settle in. I couldn't help but daydream about the warm, dry bed waiting for me at our suite. My mood commanded my mind, disallowing me to fully appreciate the surroundings. For the next fifteen minutes, every time somebody attempted to talk to me, I only spoke one word sentences grumpily and proceeded to play on my phone. On account of drying off under cover, I became warm and cheered up.

The clock hit nine and we headed towards the Pandora ride. Our fast passes prevented us from waiting in line. We all took our seats. My sister and Haley occupied the seats in front, while I sat beside my parents. The ride set into motion, leaving into a dark tunnel with mesmerizing, glowing flowers. I snatched my cellphone out of my purse, attempted to catch the beauty of the moment, and failed. Disappointed in my poor photography skill, I stow my phone away and focus on the moment. We pass an incredibly detailed, animatronic Avatar character, that performed movements so fluently that it seemed almost as if it was living. My family and I reviewed the ride together, on our way back to the Disney transportation stop. We concurred, that it while it succeeded at being enchanting and and visually beautiful, it isn't a fantastic ride. It was definitely worth riding though, for the tremendous style that embodies it.

a breath-taking
blacklight soaked pathway
incandescent wonder

Stop Talking

I was thinking of a great afternoon spent with my friends this past summer. I had a lot going on this summer—job, musical, family issues—that caused me a great deal of stress. One day, I was feeling particularly overwhelmed as I and three of my best friends sat by my pool and chatted about what we needed to do that week. Suddenly, I asked them if we could stop talking, and instead lay down and look at the clouds together in silence. They immediately said yes, so we did. I will always remember that day for how peaceful and simple life seemed to be. The day was beautiful. The sky was robin's egg blue, and the clouds were all white and fluffy. The house cast shade on us so it wasn't too hot. Birds were chirping in the trees, and I played calming music from my phone. Towels cushioned our heads from the concrete, and our toes dipped lazily in the pool. We only spoke when we wanted to point out a particularly interesting cloud. We laid like that for hours, just enjoying one another's company. It warms my heart to think of that day, because it makes me appreciate my best friends even more. They didn't question why I needed to be quiet and look at the clouds; they just knew. And they were more than happy to oblige.

white clouds
on a clear blue sky
for a moment, peace

Stained Glass Window

I remember one of my earliest memories of being at church. I was about four years old, in an older church with my younger parents. When I was at this church, I actually thought that my pastor was God. Ever since then, I almost fashion God from the likes of that pastor—black hair, parted neatly down the middle, and of fair skin and medium height. An apostle, to me, has almost the same mysterious feel as God himself, so sometimes the mind—especially a childlike one—must shine an imaginary light over things like for clarity. I am reminded of happy times such as bible study, music, and vacation bible school. On the flipside, I am imagining the holy, open feel to the sanctuary, and especially the areas surrounding the sanctuary.

Easter Sunday
God sings along
beneath his pastoral robes

Making Ends Meet

In 2008, we were in a place that we were able to do an addition up to the garage, the kitchen, and the plumbing. So most of our house was new and very nice, but since we had to stop before it was finished, there was a huge hole in the ceiling of our kitchen because of leaky pipes and things of that nature. It was years that my father was moving from job to job and delivering pizzas until 3 or 4 am to pay the mortgage. My brother and I both got jobs in order to help any way we could. After years like this, my father started to work for his brother and we finally were able to make ends meet. My dad stopped delivering pizzas and we could have our annual “Day after Christmas Party” that we always had. But we still have that hole in the ceiling so when people come to our parties they always ask why and we give them a vague answer. But to me that hole reminds me of a few years that my family was incredibly close and pulled together. It also reminds me that my father would and has done everything he can for his family.

Day after Christmas Party
hole in the ceiling
how'd that get there?

Coyote Chorus

I live about a half a mile away from a metropark system, so I often go down there to run on the paths, sit by the rivers, or hike to find unexplored places with friends. It was a warm summer night a couple days after my birthday and my friends and I were feeling adventurous so we decided to go exploring in the woods. We were slipping and sliding down the hills because it had rained the night before but we did not pay attention to how muddy we were because we were too busy enjoying each other's company. We climbed up trees, chased the rabbits that would pop out of nowhere, and howl along with the coyotes singing their nightly song. We were just enjoying the freedom of summer, as this was our last summer together before we all parted ways to our new lives at college. As we were exploring we hear this rustle in the bushes close by to where we were. We all were a little spooked because we had no clue what could come out of there. We all cautiously joked around, placing bets on who was to go figure out what it was. My friend Colin was the sore loser, and tiptoed to the bushes, praying it was not a skunk with his tail in the air, already prepared for an attacker.

Before Colin got too close to the bush, a baby deer popped out of the bush, obviously dazed and confused as to why there were so many people surrounding her in the middle of the night while she was trying to get some rest. We all admired the organic beauty of the baby deer, trying to get closer to it. Not longer after we took a couple steps closer, the mom comes leaping from the long grass, in front of her daughter as protection from us. Although we wanted to stay at witness nature's creations, we knew that it was our best interest to leave that situation before a male became involved. But that night was an extremely memorable night with some great friends and this haiku was able to bring back that special memory.

warm summer night
deep in the woods
singing with coyotes

Wicker Park

Sometimes I like to go to “new age bookstores”, usually in Chicago, although I have visited a few in New York City and Seattle. I like visiting used bookstores especially because they usually have the most unique/strange subjects. In Seattle, I visited an “Anarchist” bookstore with some friends just to see what it was about. There were so many different subjects, especially about politics, different theories, philosophy, politics, psychology, and of course, anarchist subjects. The books were cheap too. Upstairs, there was a little reading nook which overlooked Pike Place Market, and the smell of rain seeped through. It was very relaxing to sit on the red pillows and read a bit. There were so many books crammed on those shelves that the shelves bent in the middle, and seemed as if they were about to crack in half. I remember going to used book stores in Chicago with my father, because we both love to read. The whole store smelled of old books (a pleasant smell), and some of the books had an index card sticking out; a description of the book. I have read very strange books from these stores. One of them was a novel about a young woman living in the Renaissance Era who was forced to marry a gay man but fell in love with another man her age. I hadn't realized the strangeness of this book until I bought it and read it. There are also a lot of books on Marxism, history, and abstract topics. One of the coolest used bookstores I've been to is in Wicker Park (a Chicago neighborhood), and there was a coffee bar! It was lovely to drink coffee and read some interesting books with my father. The combination of the smells of the coffee and the books was very pleasant, and I did not want to leave when it was time. Skimming these books and considering what people are interested in made me more curious about the world and how people think. There are so many different perspectives on life and for me, it's interesting to think about how everyone goes through life with a completely unique perspective, and no one has the exact same experience, and these experiences shape the way we think, feel, and who we become as people. Going into these bookstores and seeing the books my friends like to read shows a lot about who they are as people and what they are interested in. Also, looking at the way an author writes a book can illustrate a way they think about life as well.

a stranger—
page 300:
a friend

Mountain Crickets

Last summer we had a family vacation to Colorado. The house we were staying at was up in the mountains, and there were a bunch of nature trails we could take to go hiking. We would go on walks and we would sometimes see deer. We had to be very quiet so that we wouldn't scare them away; all we could hear was the chirping of crickets. One night my dad and I took a walk together. It was the summer before my senior year of high school, so we were talking about my future. We walked down a light grey gravel path. In the horizon, we could see the periwinkle outline of the mountains against the changing tones of the sunset. As we were walking, we came across a meadow, where we saw a moose with her two babies on the border between the clearing and the forest. We stood together and watched them. They were so far away that we could barely make out their silhouettes, they just looked like dark brown blobs, but it was still exciting to see in person rather than on TV. I hold this memory dear because it was a good bonding experience between me and my dad. We talked about how I wanted to go into theatre, and he told me that I had his full support and that he believes in me. I felt very sentimental, knowing that I would be leaving for college soon and I wouldn't be able to be around him or the rest of my family for a while. I am feeling especially homesick right now, so I wish I could go back to that moment when I was surrounded by my family, and I had the time to enjoy little things like chirping crickets and sunsets.

gravel crunches softly
father and daughter
in silence