Journalist by day; writer by night.
"Hope is the thing with feathers, that perches in the soul, and sings the tune without the words, and never stops at all." --EMILY DICKINSON
"And sweetest in the gale is heard, and sore must be the storm, that could abash the little bird that kept so many warm."Just did this poem a couple weeks ago with my 5th grade class. Took them a bit to work their way through her style of phrasing, but when they finally got her message, there was a moment of appreciative silence in the room. "Oh wow," somebody said.Those are the teaching moments I love. I get chills.