I remembered today how we used to be eight.
In the days when we would scuttle noisily
Through the church halls, maybe wearing
Lacy dresses that made us look like porcelain dolls.

When we would whisper things about our brothers
And try to stifle the laughter we knew would
Wake my sister.

And sometimes we did things like every other 'normal' girl,
Like put on too much make up and go through our mothers'
Closets to find too-big high heels, and pushing
Teddy bears around like babies in carriages.

Or maybe we would stand by the road with signs,
HONK  IF  WE'RE  IDIOTS
And getting passed by the small town hicks in limousines.

When we were older we discovered 'Nsync',
And we liked JC or maybe Joey just because nobody else did.
But we both knew we liked Pearl Jam,
And soon we'd be the girls with chains on our jeans or maybe wear a
'Best friends' bracelet (Just to prove some point).

But we've stopped crawling on our hands and knees
To pretend we are cows or dogs or just lunatics,
And we don't listen to the same music or watch the same movies,
So we don't have much to talk about.

So maybe we could write the occasional letter
And say, "I  MISS  YOU  SOOOO MUCH"
In sloppy pen scratches.

Let's be best friends again.

- Lydia Ankrom   (age 12)
Coshocton, Ohio, U.S.A.