Growing Up On Smith Farm

October 24, 2008
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My daddy ran an orchard filled with apples, peaches, and pumpkins. The hint of cinnamon was always in the air with Mamma’s cooking. As I was walking, I noticed the orchard was in full bloom. Apples hung from each tree like a pair of dangly earrings. The smell of fresh cut grass filled the air as the horses grazed in the pasture. The farmhouse had always been next door. Sweet old Nan and Pop loved to baby-sit me and my sister when we were little. They let me pet the horses; smooth, soft fur running through my small hands. I would listen and almost hear the fruit growing on the trees. Life looks different from a country girl’s eyes. My name is Haley-Anne. I’ve always loved writing my name in cursive, especially the little loop on the Y. My last name is basic with no flavor whatsoever. It’s Smith; I know three other people in my grade with the same last name. Most kids these days go to school and then come home and do more school. I go to school, come home and play in the orchard, dancing among the fruit with my sister, Chloe. She is only two years older then me. I’m in the ninth grade and she is a junior. I’ve been told I look older; but the people who know me say that I don’t look or act near my age. I skipped the third grade so I am only thirteen as a freshman. I’m the youngest in my entire high school. Sometimes I wish that someone had the same kind of mind as me, fun loving and amazed at the smallest things. Like, did you know that a little caterpillar can have an entire peach eaten within a day? Things like that never cease to amaze me. Now that takes talent! Living on a farm, it takes a while before you realize you actually have a talent. My Mamma says I should sing but I have other plans in mind. One day, I’m going to get out of Tyler, Texas and make something of my life. Like being a big CEO or someone really looked up to. I’m always looking up to everyone. It would be nice if once and a while I could look down for a change.

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