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for you。”
I pulled off the towel; and there was my tree。 My beautiful; majestic sycamore tree。 Through
the branches he'd painted the fire of sunrise; and it
seemed to me I could feel the wind。 And way up in the tree was a tiny girl looking off into the
distance; her cheeks flushed with wind。 With joy。 With
magic。
“Don't cry; Julianna。 I want it to help you; not hurt you。” I wiped the tears from my cheeks and
gave a mighty sniff。 “Thank you; Daddy;” I choked out。
“Thank you。”
I hung the painting across the room from my bed。 It's the first thing I see every morning and
the last thing I see every night。 And now that I can look
at it without crying; I see more than the tree and what being up in its branches meant to me。
I see the day that my view of things around me started changing。
Brawk…Brawk…Brawk!
Eggs scare me。 Chickens; too。 And buddy; you can laugh at that all you want; but I'm being
dead serious here。
It started in the sixth grade with eggs。
And a snake。
And the Baker brothers。
The Baker brothers' names are Matt and Mike; but even now I can't tell you which one's
which。 You never see one without the other。 And even
though they're not twins; they do look and sound pretty much the same; and they're both in
Lyta's class; so maybe one of them got held back。
……… Page 21………
Although I can't exactly see a teacher
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