I was in JoBeth's class (almost 10 years ago) the first time I read Where I'm From. We used it as a mentor text and wrote our own Where I'm From poems. I remember writing about Stove Top Stuffing and chicory from my grandparent's back yard. It was like a walk down memory lane - thinking about what really made you what you are. The small things that are forever ingrained into you.
Today the girls brought home the Where I'm From poems that they wrote at school and Chris and I both teared up a little. Ok, some of us may have teared up a lot.
Where I'm From
By Chandler Pendley
I am from the Roman plates in the dishwasher
from the tide detergent and lemon scented dusting cream kept in the lower cabinet
I am from the colorful rooms that are never depressing. It smells like apple cinnamon during the holidays.
It sounds like the clank clank from my little brother playing with his toys
I am from the lambs ears, the flower bed
I am from the Italian food on Sundays and blue eyes
From Angie and Chris
I am from Saturday movie night and church on Sundays
from goofball and shake it honey,
I am from Oconee Street United Methodist Church,
when the choir fills the room with the most beautiful music.
I am from European ancestry
sausage and potatoes
The pathway that my grandparents put in their backyard and the way my mom makes her jewelry
from the photo box on the shelf in my parents' closet, that holds stray pictures but not forgotten ones
I am from everything important to my family
Where I'm From
By Casey Pendley
I'm from thick, hardback books, from papermate pens and 5 star notebooks
I'm from the pots and pans in the unorganized cabinet that leave black smudges on fingertips
I'm from the bright yellow daisies and tiger lilies that dance in the spring breeze
I'm from family picture days and blue eyes
I'm from Chris and Angie
From don't let the bed bugs bite and give it all you got
from the people that sing to everything
I'm from glory to God in the highest and the children of God
I'm from Athens, GA, from salad and lima beans
from the love found in Italy and lettuce on people's heads
I'm from the dancer's feet with blisters and bumps and a girl that will never give up.
Big sigh. Tears. Tomorrow is their last day in elementary school.