"Ruben and the Rain" by Raquel E

The sound of the soothing, calming rain fascinates us. The continuous rain drops falling hard on the tin roof; rice on an aluminum plate. Everyone in my class likes the rain and up until that day, Ruben was the only one thought to not like the rain, but we were wrong. Ever since that day, every time it rains, we all gather around Ruben.

Ruben who has been in the first grade two times, and talks about his past school years and acts so tough tells us something new. Ruben, who never knows the answer when a teacher asks him a question, and has friends around the whole school, and talks about his past school years, has another past.

That day as we watched the heavy rain all sitting down cross-legged, Ruben joined us. He left the tree that he goes to when it rains andjoined our line at the edge of th concrete basketball court, letting wind blow water to our faces. That Ruben comes, breaks the silence, and say, "My Papa in Heaven makes the rain." We all turn to look at him and see his tears blend in with the rain. Ruben who never knows the answer to a question, and has friends around the whole school, has another past.

"The Blue Tears" by Stephanie O

The Blue Tears

of the bright eye

cry out loud the soul

of the courageous guy

as his beloved, shiny tears

become the shadow

of his life.

"My Name" by Roberto G

My name in Spanish means strength and humility. My name a color of beans; it is my dad's Colombian records blasting. My name is like an old, cranky rooster that stands alone, brave and not afraid to speak out.

At school, they say my name American...Bob. But it is better than my sister's name, Jennifer, which is too plain for me. But this is my intented. This name, Roberto, is as rich as my culture. My name stands alone from the rest.

"The Closing Door" by Felipe S.

I'm off to work, my mom says--loneliness overwhelms me with a cold, sweaty shiver. Slowly by surely, I mature. My parents are divorced; my mom works at two places to help my sister and me. I try my best at school. I have friends, I am ready to be a young man--the absence of my father prevents this, but I try. The two jobs, the ones that limit me from experiences of having a family, do not let my life unfold. I do have a home, school is my home. The place in which my life is focused on. I am am afraid. I don't want to spend all of my life working two jobs like my mom. I want a family. A circle of unity--love.

"Hairs" by Tania E.

Everybody in our family has different hair. My dad's hair is like a dry, stiff mop that you stop and look with a glare. And me, my hair is obedient. It always obeys as I command. Mario's hair is thin and straight. He never needs to comb it. Luz' hair is curly--curls in your finders. And Emily, who is the youngest, has hair like a soft teddy bear.

My mom's hair is like cinnamon rolls. Sweet candy circles all curly and fluffy; therefore, she pins them and curls them in pin curls. When she is holding you, holding you and you feel safe it is the warm smell of cinnamon while you bake it, is the smell when she makes space for you on her side of the bed still warm, covered with her smell, and you sleep near her, the wind blowing outside and Daddy snoring. The snoring, the wind and Mom's hair that smells like cinnamon.

"Rears" by Estrella P.

Everybody in my family has different butt sizes. My papi's butt is flat because he has none; he claims it makes him dance better. And my butt, my butt is small, so small I'm afraid to put on tight jeans. My brother Carlos' butt has a curve that makes it seem big at an angle, but smooth at another. I have envy of my sisters; their butts make a perfect round, not too big rear that no one in my family has.

My mother's end is so cute and small because the black pants she wears makes it seen round, but in a way that you know it is not big. When I wish my rear was bigger, I think of the times I see my mother's pretty end and know its not so bad because I got it from her, better than my dad.