The Bear (A Limerick)

I recently ran across a "book of poetry" I had written for a 5th grade project. For our poetry unit, each time we'd discuss a new type of poetry, we were then given the assignment to write in that genre. At the end of the poetry unit each student then compiled his or her completed works into a booklet. When I found this book recently, and read through it, I mostly laughed or cringed at how some of it sounded. However, I must say I thought my limerick was pretty clever for a 5th grader. Enjoy!!!
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The Bear

There once was a little bear
She had some fuzzy brown hair.
A little boy gave her
a little red razor
and the little brown bear was bare.


COPYRIGHT 2009. Emma C Miller. Any reproduction of this story may not be made without express written consent of the author.

The Parable of the Frog

My Bloggy Friend, Ronnica (click here for blog) , posted an experience about her roommate finding a frog in their pool. She then equated it to her own spiritual journey. I told her what a cute Parable this would make. So, here is My Rendition of Ronnica's parable of a frog.
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Mr. Frog was a curious frog. Day after day he would sit on his lily pad in the pond and wonder what life in the "outside world" was like. Mr. Frog could often hear splashing and laughter coming from the nearby pool. "Sounds like fun!" Mr. Frog thought.

One day as Mr. Frog was sitting on the lily pad he became truly bored, and the flies seemed anything but plentiful. Mr. Frog decided that was the day; the day he would jump from his pond in search of the fun and excitement over in the nearby pool.

Hop, hop. Hop, hop, hop. Not too much farther, Mr. Frog thought to himself. When Mr. Frog finally arrived at the bright blue shiny pool, he was amazed to see no one else there. Not a human in sight. Not even other frogs. Mr. Frog stood at the edge of the pool wondering what he should do next. Then his eyes beheld something glorious: A pool full of all kinds of bugs and insects skimming the water! Even better was that he had hopped upon this feast by himself; he wouldn't have to share with any other frogs! With that, Mr. Frog took the plunge.

What Mr. Frog didn't realize is that the chlorine in the pool was causing damage to his skin. The only thing on Mr. Frog's mind were all of those bugs just waiting to be swallowed!

Soon, however, a human girl spotted Mr. Frog near the edge of the pool and decided save him. She knelt down, scooped Mr. Frog out of the pool, and sat him down on a nearby pool chair. The poor little frog was in shock. He didn't move a muscle for several minutes. He had been removed from the water environment in which he was initially comfortable. There was food and water and recreation. But the human girl knew that he had a much better home in the pond only a few yards away.

The human girl knew that as long as Mr. Frog remained in the barely adequate home of the pool, he could never enjoy the long-lasting, nutrient-rich, bug-friendly natural waters that are his true home. He needed a little push to get there, as he certainly wasn't willing to start back on his own. After all, who wants to leave a place that you are enjoying for a promise of something grander?

Often times we find ourselves to be like Mr. Frog on our Celestial Journey. When we get caught up in the enjoyments of this world, the beauty and attraction of Heaven grows dimmer. At some points, Heaven doesn't even seem all that appealing, and certainly not as much fun. No doubt we are tempted by other luxuries or distractions. We may even think like Mr. Frog; that we are happy enough where we are, swimming around the pool eating the yummy flies.

Fortunately, we have a Father in Heaven who knows what is best for us, and like the Human Girl, will scoop us out of this world and remind us that our true home is somewhere much more grand, somewhere we truly belong. For the day when all of our sins will be removed and we see our Savior face-to-face how great will be our Joy. If this remains our focus, the cares around us and our earthly desires will begin to lose their grip.

Though our earthly ponds may sometimes have a little "scum" in it, or at times may appear depleted of yummy flies, may we remember our ultimate goal of returning to the place which our Father in Heaven has prepared for us. It is in this that we may find Joy in our Journey.



Copyright 2008. Emma C. Miller. Any reproduction of this work may not be made without express written consent of the author.

Don't Be Mean, Charlene!

Meanness begats meanness. This story came about because of all the girls out there who can sometimes be soooo mean. The thing about mean girls, is that they sometimes grow up to be mean women. So - here's to all the Silly Jilly's of the world - saving the planet, one Mean Charlene at a time.
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Silly Jilly loved everything about everything and she loved everything about everyone. Well, almost.

Silly Jilly loved to walk her dog. She loved to help around the house. Silly Jilly even loved cleaning her room. Well, almost.

Silly Jilly loved to be silly, which is why everyone called her Silly Jilly. And most of all Silly Jilly loved being silly with her friends. Everyone at school was Silly Jilly's friend. Well, almost.

Silly Jilly was nice to everyone and wished everyone was nice to each other too. But there was one girl at school that wasn't very nice to the other girls. She had red, unruly hair and freckles and everyone called her Mean Charlene. Well, almost.

Silly Jilly tried to be nice to Mean Charlene. She decided that if Mean Charlene were ever mean to her, she would do her best to forgive her.

Once Mean Charlene took away Nicki's ball. Another time she pulled Belle's hair. Mean Charlene made fun of Barbie and told her she couldn't be in her secret camper's club anymore. Mean Charlene made lots of girls cry.

When Julia fell down and scraped her knee, Mean Charlene laughed at her. When Timberly dropped her books in the hall, Mean Charlene kicked them out of her reach. And when Emmy-Lou cried on the first day of school, Mean Charlene called her a baby for the rest of the year.

The girls in the class had enough. They were tired of Mean Charlene being so terribly, horribly mean. Even though Timberly wanted to get even and kick her in the shins while she wasn't looking, all the girls decided they would start to ignore her. If she talked to them, they would walk on by. If she said something mean, they would pretend not to hear. Even if Mean Charlene wasn't acting mean, the girls decided they would pretend like she no longer existed.

Silly Jilly wasn't too sure about this idea. However, she knew it was better than holding her down and kicking Mean Charlene in the shins. So, over the next several days, that is what the girls in the class did. They completely ignored Mean Charlene.

Then one day, at recess, Silly Jilly noticed Mean Charlene standing at the back of the playground by herself. She was crying. Silly Jilly looked around the playground and true to their word, every girl was ignoring Mean Charlene. Silly Jilly felt awful inside and decided to find out what could possibly make someone as mean as Charlene cry.

She approached Mean Charlene, feeling a little nervous that she might make Mean Charlene more upset.

"What are you looking at?" Mean Charlene snidely asked.

"Why are you crying?" Silly Jilly questioned.

"None of your big fat business," Mean Charlene snarled.

"Do you want to play with me?" asked Silly Jilly, doing her best to over look Charlene's meanness.

All of a sudden, Charlene stopped crying and looked Silly Jilly in the eye. "You would want to play with me?" she inquired.

"Well, yes," Silly Jilly stammered. "On two conditions."

"What?" sniffled Charlene.

"You have to apologize to all of the other girls and you have to stop being so mean, Charlene."

Charlene thought for a moment and then agreed. She slowly walked over to the other girls who were playing on the jungle gym. She told them how sorry she was for all of the mean things she had ever done to them. She apologized for stealing their balls, pushing them around, kicking their books, calling them names, and every other mean thing she ever said or did that she could think of. Belle asked her why she was so mean.

"I don't know," replied Charlene. "I guess because I am jealous of all of you."

Charlene went on to explain that she was jealous of each of the girls in one way or another. The girls in the class seemed to have better clothes. They were smarter. They could play four-square better and run faster. She was jealous that they each had beautiful, soft, "normal" hair and smooth skin, while she had straw-like bright red hair and freckles all over her face. Charlene didn't think the other girls would like someone like her, so it was just easier to be mean.

"Well, we don't know if we like you or not," said Emmy-Lou. "You haven't given us a chance to even get to know you. You've always been so mean."

So, from that day forward, Charlene decided she would no longer be mean, the girls decided they would no longer ignore her, and Silly Jilly decided that she would continue bringing peace and happiness to every girl in the class, every girl on the playground, and every girl in the world. Well, almost.

The End.


COPYRIGHT 2008. Emma C Miller. Any reproduction of this story may not be made without express written consent of the author.

Back to the Zoo! (A Counting Book)

I wrote this story for LittleDuckling I was pregnant with PrettyPrettyPrincess. Enough of you encouraged me to dig out the little pictures I drew to go along with them. It's just a silly little counting book. Nevertheless, here is the story...again. Enjoy!
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COPYRIGHT 2000. Emma C Miller. Any reproduction of this story may not be made without express written consent of the author.

Polly Pinkerton and Her Blankie

* This story was written for Keenan, before moving away from his little best friend, Evan. They were both 2 years old.
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Polly Pinkerton was a little girl
with bright green eyes and golden curls.
Her family moved next door one week,
which excited me, for you see
I was the only girl on the block;
with no one to play with or to talk.

I invited her to come play with me
and when she came she brought her blankie.
In fact wherever we went she tagged it along,
whether playing with dolls or singing silly songs.
Being six I thought she was a little old
to be toting a blankie in her hold.

Other kids at school made fun of me
for playing with the with girl and her blankie.
Once a boy snatched it up, and Polly began to cry.
I helped her get it back, but I had to know why-
Why did she drag around that hideous thing
to the yard or the park, or swinging on swings?

When I asked Polly the question her eyes filled with tears.
She said, "I've had since I was a baby. It helps calms my fears.
I know I'm too old to carry this around.
I must find a way to lay this blankie down.
Will you help me get rid of if for good?" Polly asked.
Of course I said yes though it would be no easy task.

From that day forward, when Polly and I played
I tried to help her forget the blankie she put away.
And if she started feeling lonely or down or afraid,
We would sing happy songs, recite poems or pray.
It worked! It worked! She didn't need it anymore.
Now we could do the things we haven't done before.

Riding bikes, swimming, making angels in the sand.
Polly Pinkerton simply became my best friend.
Then one afternoon my mother gave me bad news.
My dad got a new job and we would have to move.
As we packed the last box and loaded up the van,
My eyes filled with tears and down my cheeks they ran.

I looked over at Polly's house to wave good-bye
when she called, "Hang on! I left something inside!"
She came out with a box wrapped in a pink bow
and said, "Open it now before you go!
I'm giving you this gift so you'll never forget me."
And I opened the box to find her beautiful blankie.

The End.


COPYRIGHT 1996. Emma C Miller. Any reproduction of this story may not be made without express written consent of the author.

Jenna Jing Loved to Sing

Jenna Jing Loved to Sing
at day or night about anything.
She'd wake up and jump out of bed,
singing good morning to her brother Fred.

For breakfast she would sing her melody
for whole wheat toast and strawberry jelly.
At the dinner table she would bellow,
"Will someone please pass me the JELL-O?"

Wherever Jenna Jing was at
she preferred to sing rather than chat.
She sang to her friends on the playground;
to neighbors and store clerks all around.

At first they thought it was quite cute.
They said she sounded just like a flute.
But day after day of Jenna's singing
left some folks with their ears ringing.

They began to cringe as she went by.
They'd roll their eyes and give a sigh.
Nonetheless, Jenna sang out-
getting louder and louder without a doubt.

Then one day Jenna's voice got worse.
She could barely sing; her throat was hoarse.
Her mom took her to see Dr. Titus.
He said, "Jenna's got Laryngitis."

"What is that?" Jenna's mom inquired.
The doctor said, "Her voice got tired."
For two whole weeks Jenna's voice was out.
She couldn't whisper, talk, sing or shout.

The neighborhood was very quiet.
The people were happy. They couldn't deny it.
So Jenna just sat at home.
With no way to sing, she felt alone.

Near the end of the two weeks the townspeople grew bored.
Where was that voice they once adored?
In spite of the quiet they enjoyed so much,
they missed Jenna's singing just a touch.

Then Jenna's voice finally came to.
She skipped through the park singing, "Loo-loo-loo."
Her friends came to play. The townspeople smiled.
They were glad to hear the songs they hadn't heard in a while.

They all reached a decision, even Jenna Jing.
As long as it wasn't too much, they liked to hear her sing.

Copyright 2000. Emma C Miller. Any reproduction of this story may not be made without express written consent of the author.