The Candy Smash (16 page)

By Christopher Bay

 

Dear Friend in 4-O,

I feel terrible. I did something I'm not supposed to do. Nobody knows. Every day I feel bad. I keep waiting to get caught. What should I do?

Signed,
Guilty in the Fourth Grade

 

Dear Guilty,

You're never going to feel better until you confess. Go to a grownup you trust and tell the truth. I guarantee you'll be happy you did.

***

 

Dear Friend in 4-O,

Why do we have to make valentines for everyone in the class? I don't like everyone. In fact, there are some kids I REALLY DON'T LIKE. Why should I make valentines for them?

Signed,
Tired of Making Valentines

 

Dear Tired,

I hear you! Making 27 valentines takes a lot of time. I spent about four hours making mine. But you
have
to give one to everyone so no one feels left out. How would
you
like it if you got just a few valentines? So here's my advice: Go to the store and buy a box of valentines. That way, you won't be so tired.

***

 

Dear Friend in 4-O,

This is really embarrassing, but my feet smell bad. Not all the time, but when I wear boots in the winter and run around on the playground, my feet really sweat. Then we come in from recess and take off our boots. Two kids told me my feet stink. Help me!

Signed,
Stinky and Sad

 

Dear Stinky,

First, those kids shouldn't tell you your feet smell bad. That's just rude. Second, I asked my mom about your problem, and she says there are things you can buy at the drugstore that take care of foot odor. Also, do you wash your feet every day? You should. So try those things out and hopefully your problem will be solved.

***

 

Dear Friend in 4-O,

Because of all the poetry we've been reading in class, I've decided I want to be a poet when I grow up. Is that a real job? Do they make a lot of money? Is it hard to be a poet?

Signed,
In Love with Poetry

 

Dear In Love,

Your name says it all! If you love poetry, then you should be a poet. I asked Mrs. Overton, and she says poets don't make much money at all. But I say you should still do what you love. For instance, I love writing this advice column, and I don't get paid any money at all!

Here are the scores for the fourth grade girls' basketball games that were played this weekend:

 

Tigers 22 / Raptors 27
Polar Bears 5 / Wildcats 12
Eagles 31 / Hornets 19

 

Here are the scores for the fourth grade boys' basketball games that were played this weekend:

 

Bulls 19 / Hawks 22
Grizzlies 17 / Lakers 16
Pacers 39 / Celtics 20
Mavericks 7 / Thunder 27

 

All the indoor soccer games had to be canceled because the roof is still leaking at the indoor field. No one knows when it's going to be fixed.

(All poems reprinted with the permission of the authors.)

 

 

Secrets
by Megan Moriarty

 

Some secrets are
Nice,
Like shiny, wet pearls
You string on a
Necklace.
One, two, three!

 

Some secrets feel like
Rocks
That hang from your
Heart.
They pull you down.

 

Some secrets are like
Needles.
They poke and poke and poke,
Wanting to be told.
Those are the most dangerous
Of all.

 

Stanley
by Malik Lewis

 

My dog is yellow and mellow.
He sits on my foot and crushes it!
I shout, "Get off my foot!"
But he's a dog, so
He just licks my face.
I love my dog.

 

Tepee in the Woods
by Evan Treski

 

You see
  Broken branches
I see
  A perfect palace

 

You see
  Twisted string
I see
  Someplace safe

 

You see
  Nothing much
I see
  A home

 

Poem for My Mom
by Jessie Treski
(with help from Evan Treski)

 

A vase is just a vase
Until you fill it with flowers.
A wand is just a stick
Without its magical powers.

 

A diamond's just a rock
Until you cut it right.
And a sunrise looks like nothing
Unless you start with night.

 

My mom is like a sunrise,
Warm and beautiful and gold.
My mom is like a diamond,
Strong and clear and bold.

 

But my mom is not a flower
That grows in rainy weather.
Instead, she's like the vase that
Holds us all together.

 

This Is Just to Say
by Jessie Treski

 

I have taken
the poem
you kept in
your room

 

and which
you were probably
trying
to keep private

 

Forgive me
it was so good
and I wanted
you to shine

 

(
Note to the Reader: Mrs. Overton says it's okay for me to use William Carlos Williams's poem like this because everyone knows it's an imitation. A poem like this is called a parody, except a parody is supposed to be funny and my poem is serious.
)

 

The Quarrel
by Eleanor Farjeon

 

I quarreled with my brother,
I don't know what about,
One thing led to another
And somehow we fell out.
The start of it was slight,
The end of it was strong,
He said he was right,
I knew he was wrong!

 

We hated one another.
The afternoon turned black.
Then suddenly my brother
Thumped me on the back,
And said, "Oh, come along!
We can't go on all night—
I was in the wrong."
So he was in the right.

 

(
Note to the Reader: This poem is written by a famous, dead poet. It's my favorite poem of all time.
)

There were 9 clear days, 7 partly cloudy days, and 15 cloudy days.