Children's Almanac — Hoover Middle, Mrs. Bryant's Grade 6

Children's Almanac — Hoover Middle, Mrs. Bryant's Grade 6

Students in Mrs. Bryant’s Grade 6 English class, Hoover Middle School

Children's Almanac

Students in Mrs. Bryant’s Grade 6 English class, 

Hoover Middle School


Name: Imir Ruka

Age: 12

The good news reaches your ears.



And yet,




Anger fills the heart.

They ask, “To whom thy anger?”

To which you respond, “To life, to life I anger.”



Yet distraught.




Thou shall feel, yet not.

Numbness, coldness,

And yet,

Warmness, peacefulness

Comforting yet uncomfortable.

And then, life wins the battle.

And thou cry

But thou art relieved,

You do not have to fight in thine battle


And sadness

And dread

And yet not all shall be sad

And disgraced

But thou shalt be




Not alone

Life usually wins

But that doesn’t mean you can’t be happy.

“A Relationship Between Two”

Name: Layla Greene

Age: 11

A good friend you say,

Well each person has another way

To describe the person fit for them

But there are qualities you need to not condemn.

Looks might matter to some, but it’s from within

What really matters is under the skin.

Your heart, your brain, should have more to give

When mistakes are made they can forgive.

When you are down, not feeling ok,

They help you find the right roadway

To keep you on the path, not holding back

On your full potential making sure you don’t lack

What you need to do to keep them too

This relationship between you two.


Name: Rehan Van Dam

Age: 12

Devices control humanity

Work, school, and video games

Going outside

Devices waste time

Time lost, forever

Hours pass fast

Years pass faster


Endless scrolling 

It never ends


Working all day on a screen


Eye strain and back pain 


Video games



At home

At school 

By day; by night


Social media 

Likes and follows

Approval seeking


Mental health crashing,

Missing out





Lad: A Dog

Name: Joanna Wang

Age: 11

That stubbornly sweet Lad,

So brave and enduring.

He rescued many, making them glad, 

Willing to get hurt, even die securing.

So brave and enduring;

He’s sincere and wants sincerity.

Willing to hurt, even die securing,

He saved and loved Lady sincerely.

He’s sincere and wants sincerity,

Affectionate and friendly to Lady.

He saved and loved Lady sincerely;

Devoted to his Master and Mistress, and loyal? Completely

Affectionate and friendly to Lady;

He rescued many, making them glad.

Devoted to his Master and Mistress, and loyal? Completely,

That stubbornly sweet Lad.

“Making Mom’s Favorite Food”

Name: Annika Sebastine 

Age: 12

Every year

(Although there’s no exact day)

My family gathers 

Around the marbled kitchen counter

To make pani puri,

My mom’s favorite food.

We start with her describing to us about

What life was like

“Back in my day”

She chatters away about how she 

Would always get pani puri

From one of the vendors

Lining the streets of Mumbai.

She tells us how much she loved 

One of the vendors pani puris

And how it’s now her favorite food

Blah, blah, blah

I think, 

Great story! 

When can we start eating?

Finally, she stops

And we can finally start making 

The food.

I snatch one of the shells 

Out of the plastic carton.

Crack! Pop!

Goes the spherical shell

When we crack a little hole

In it

With our fingers. 

As I grasp the pale yellow oval

With two fingers.

Then, I spoon in some 


All mashed up 

As a base

So the liquid doesn’t leak out.

The pani puri water

Green, black, or red 

Gets poured into the hole of our shell.

A little bit of yogurt is added to cut 

Back on the spice 

And it is topped with aloo bhujia,

Crispy pieces of fried potato. 

We mix and match the different 


Trying to find out our favorite combo. 

A little bit of potato goes in 

Then some red sauce with yogurt and 

Aloo bhujia

The first time

And maybe just

Black liquid and potato 

The next. 

The first bite 

Is the most special. 


Goes the shell when

It snaps between my teeth

And the spicy sauce soaks 

Into my tongue 

As I grab a glass of water.

I take another 


Out of the box

For my brother.

He hates spice

So I make sure 

To make it extra spicy

Just for him.

I fill up a plate

With three

Or four puris

And sit down 

At the dining table

Crunching away


One more through the lips

My mouth overwhelmed by a wave of sauce

Rushing down my throat

I guess that one had

Too much liquid

I think

So I get up 

To make another one

Once again I taste it

This time it’s too spicy

Standing up again

And again

And again

As I cram


And more

And more

Down my throat

Critiquing myself on each one I make.

I race

With my family

To see who can eat 

The most puris 

My mom says 

Her friend has eaten

Sixty at once.

The most I can eat

Is thirty.


My mom tells me

That that was just an appetizer

As she brings out more food to eat.

But after all that

I can’t eat any more.

So I collapse on the sofa 

With a full belly 

And a wide grin on my face. 

Hope Within The Air…

Name: Ashra Siddiqui 

Age: 12 

The flowers blooming slowly

The sun giving life to all, 

Shining through my room

Not a single cloud in the sky

I smile, a big wide smile

The birds dance in the sky gliding with the soft wind

The bees were buzzing along hovering above the flowers

The air is crisp, with the smell of flowers blooming all around

The grass is verdant full of little insects hopping joyfully

A little boy plays in the fields,

Giggles merrily

The sun’s beams brushed my face to feel warm all over

I take a deep breath, 

Taking in all of the beauty

As the day goes on,

The sun rises within the sky

More beauty and life emerge

The senses of nature pleased my eyes,

And tears formed in the corners 

A small Blue Bird perches on my windowsill

It sings it’s heart out, whistles flowing gracefully

Until it’s voice cracks to a piercing screech

The clouds darken 

Flames emerge gradually

The grass loses its verdant color 

The flowers sink down into dust

Branches falling with might         

Everything turns gray

And the whole world bursts into chaos right in front of my eyes

Loud noises coming from every which way

Glass breaking

Scarring into my skin

It cuts deep, 

Blood drips out

Just like the color drained out of the world.

As the night emerged things only got worse

The wolves woke up from their sleep and moaned through the night

The last leaf falls on a dead tree,

Slowly drifting down to the ground

I crawl on the creaky floor, 

And I find a small puzzle piece 

It’s full of vibrant colors

It felt strange,

Something was not right

The piece glowed with a golden hue

I placed it on my palm

It grew brighter by the second

As the hours went on

For what seemed like eternity

I was filled with glowing puzzle pieces

Bundled up in my hands

With my scarred body,

I scrambled every nook and corner

To find more

Of these mysterious pieces

As I put the pieces together one by one,

They grew even brighter all together

The shine blinded my eyes

Piece by piece,

The world trickled back with color

I could sense it,

There was HOPE  in the air

I could smell it 

Tickling the hairs in my nose

I could hear it

Soft, joyful noises filling my ears

I could taste it

Tingling my taste buds with its sweet flavor

I could feel it

Brushing my face and goosebumps all over 

I could see it

There was HOPE  in the air