If Home Was the Sky
Ani, Age 7, Naperville, IL

(Inspired by Floyd Cooper)

My family was flying on an airplane, which, Daddy said, was going to a place full of happiness.

It was hot, summer air outside, but as dark as a cold, wintry day. The dark made sounds, sounds that only I could hear. The dark made pictures that only I could see. Pictures like an eagle, or a lonely girl with a dog in her lap. She said to the dog: "You're my only friend." The little bit of wind created her hair, the stars made her eyes and nose. The upside down moon made her mouth. Her face was made of the large, black sky.

When lunchtime came on the plane, it was sunny outside. The sounds and starry pictures disappeared. The sky was all plain and dull. But the clouds made pictures and the sun made the dull sky shine bright, almost as bright as the stars in the night sky. The shiny sky created the best sight I had ever seen. Home. Home, where skies were high, where day beauty turned into a work of art. The sky was a work of art; it was changing like a butterfly. Home was here. But Daddy said we were going to Chicago. But for me, home was always the sky; it had pictures like the ones in houses. The sun and stars and moon would make a light with some shade from the dark sky. Home was there, I just knew it. I was happy there. I WOULD be happy there. Happy in the clouds with the blazing sun looking at me. I would play over the houses like I always dreamed of. I would dance in the sky like the hot summer air, and nobody would have a home like mine. My home would be like paradise. I would be up where God was out there somewhere. When I found God, he'd be up there, lying down in deep sleep, like a lion after a long chase in the wild.

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