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A Book of Short Stories
A Book of Short Stories
A Book of Short Stories
Ebook55 pages47 minutes

A Book of Short Stories

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Marie B. Jackson-Peoples, a retired educator and author from the District of Columbia Public schools. She taught elementary education, special education and bilingual education during her tenure. Later, she became an administrator for the school system. She served as an advocate for several preschools in the Washington, DC area. Currently, Mrs. Peoples works part-time as an administrator and board member for an infant and child development center.
LanguageEnglish
Release dateJan 27, 2016
ISBN9781483437606
A Book of Short Stories

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    Book preview

    A Book of Short Stories - Marie Jackson Peoples

    Peoples

    Copyright © 2016 Marie Jackson Peoples.

    All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored, or transmitted by any means—whether auditory, graphic, mechanical, or electronic—without written permission of both publisher and author, except in the case of brief excerpts used in critical articles and reviews. Unauthorized reproduction of any part of this work is illegal and is punishable by law.

    ISBN: 978-0-5781-6550-9 (sc)

    ISBN: 978-1-4834-3760-6 (e)

    Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

    Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

    Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

    Lulu Publishing Services rev. date: 02/12/2016

    CONTENTS

    CHIDREN LEFT BEHIND

    HOMECOMING DAY

    A CHILD WITH HOPE

    THE TUNNELS

    A SCHOOL DAY WITH BRIAN

    MY EIFFEL TOWER EXPERIENCE

    FRANKIE’S SWIM MEET

    PIGLETS ON THE FARM

    GO-CARTS ON THE MOUNTAIN

    ALEX’ DILEMMA

    BIOGRAPHY

    This book of short stories shall be dedicated to my grandchildren. I wish to thank the readers at the Institute of Children’s Literature, West Redding Connecticut. The excellent staff of readers inspired me to write these stories.

    CHIDREN LEFT BEHIND

    The sun shone through the dusty blue sky in Johannesburg, South Africa as we entered an orphanage that housed about eighty children. These children had been orphaned or abandoned as a result of AIDS and/or violence. The orphanage teaching and training was centered around Christian beliefs. With that in mind, a sense of gladness soothed my spirit. I no longer felt sad because these children had found a place of refuge from the harsh conditions of Soweto.

    It was about noon and children were nearing the end of lunch. Crumbs, empty water and juice cups littered the floor and the wooden tables with benches attached. Large motor fans stirred hot air through an opened window of a large dining area. A smell of peanut butter filled my nostrils while little ones tugged and pushed to get closer to us. They swarmed around and tightened the human circle that surrounded our group of ten. Eyes sparkled in faces full of big smiles. Bread crumbs and spatters of milk stuck to their faces. At once, singing, chanting and clapping of hands began. It was as if the children were expecting us. Many stretched out their arms toward us. Their desires were so strong that we felt overwhelmed by their grandiose expression of love. Spontaneously, I reached out to touch one little girl. As I picked her up, I noticed that her under clothes were soiled, but she didn’t seem the least bit concerned. Her yearning eyes told me that she felt relieved that someone had touched her. Someone came to see her. The workers moved quickly to pull the children away from the wide doorway. However, we signaled the leaders that it was okay for them to greet us. Suddenly, everyone was talking, children started grabbing our hands. We squatted down and they were able to touch our hats, pull off our sunshades and stared intently into our eyes. Their soft brown velvet faces lit up when we started unpacking our bags and laying toys and clothes, toiletries on tables in an adjoining room. The preschoolers looked on with an expression of O! They moved slowly toward the tables. Many of them were shoeless, but this is common practice with African whether they are black, brown or white. Every child took at least one toy. The joy in the room was palatable and it wasn’t just about toys. It was a feeling. The feeling I knew as a child. I wasn’t forgotten. Somebody thought of me, I matter.

    Singing children were guided

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