Dear Gratitude...

Dear Diary,

Fifth grade was The best of the worst. The school year was not the best, but there were places to find the good in things other than school. My friend Grace's mom and dad got divorced and she has been sad ever since; she only gets to see her dad every other week and still her time with him is slowly decreasing because of his new job as a doctor. My mom and dad are very close, they always sort out problems quickly and never forget their counseling sessions with Karen. But how thankful I am they aren't divorced, and I enjoy every moment they are not. I myself will never get divorced when I get married- if I get married. There are ups and downs, but having a husband has benefits other things don't give you. Right now I am outside feeling the breeze slowly over my face sweep, glad God created such a thing man could never create, I mean, without a fan that is. Grace is calling me, I'll be back.

Dear Diary,

playing with Grace was fun, and a good thing to refresh my brain. We rode our scooters back to her house which was a couple blocks away and on the way, we stopped for Icecream. "So, how was your weekend with your dad?" I asked her. She Stopped licking her cookie dough so viciously and frowned. "Um, it was good... we went to dinner at the food 'n' fun... and mom picked me up from there..." I could tell the subject was sensitive and changed it as soon as possible before damage was done. "Do you know what class you're in this year for middle school? I got Mrs. Windle, are we in the same class?" The question was forced and too excited to seem normal, but Grace didn't notice. "I have Mrs. Windle too, We knew we would be in the same class!" She hugged me. "Yay!" I said, and as I took the last spoonful of strawberry, I said: "Yes, but just as easily, we could have been in different classes."

Dear Diary:

I talked to my mom and told her that Grace was not herself. "Her dad is a huge part of her, and as he goes away, Grace does too." I Sadly listed. "We need to do something, and before school starts." My mom contacted Graces' mom and told her the problem. We thought she would already know, but her mom said Grace seemed to hide that and never spoke about it. They planed that every week Grace would go over on the weekends and spend the night with her dad. They would do fun things each day, like bowling, arcade, and more that would maximize her time with him. So, one day Graces' mom drove her and me to her dads' house. She frequently asked where we were going, but we didn't answer until we arrived. When she saw her dad at the door, she ran up to him and hugged him for a long time. Her mom looked at her dad and started to have tears in her eyes. Though divorcing was their decision that they still thought was best, a tiny part in their heart showed regret.

Dear Diary,

Sixth grade was starting and I was so excited. Grace was always in the back of my head, but I focused on the good and the first day. I wore my favorite pink shirt with a cat on it, a white blouse, and jean shorts with a little rainbow on them. My backpack was heavy and full of new books, notepads, a dog print lunchbox, and writing tools. I was so glad I had those things, what would I do without my new unicorn fluffy keychain? My backpack was still the same tiny, sticky unikitten backpack, but everything else was new. I walked into school and inhaled the familiar smell of the hallway when walking by. It wasn't the most pleasant smell, with gym clothes usually strung around the floor and tubes of makeup squishing under your new shoes, but the smell was comforting, letting me know I was home, and home was school.

Dear Diary,

I went to my class and sat down on a desk in the back row. I'm not usually late, but I took so much time fixing my hair my seat was the one farthest back. I looked around for Grace and saw her all inn and sit next to me. It was going to be so hard not to talk during class! Part of me wanted to move so we wouldn't talk, but the bigger portion longed to sit with a friend. The first day was decent, consisting of gym, science, the other classes, the boring stuff. But Grace told me after school that two people told her she looked pretty, and one was a boy named Jim. She said Jim talked to her in the hall and said he was a science nerd and wanted to be a scientist when he got his degree. I told her she and Jim should talk more often and sit together at lunch, but she waved off the idea. We both agree sixth grade is to young for that, but I could tell Grace liked him a lot.

Dear Diary,

Me and Grace enjoyed more of school and She saw her dad almost 4 days a week! We had times when our moms would allow us to ride our bikes to the diner and have lunch so they could talk, and Grace had already been out with Jim 3 times in two weeks. I told her to not take Jim for granted, because I could tell she spent a little to much time with him than her mom liked, though her mom didn't want to ruin her fun. We had so much fun and I showed Grace my gift to her for her birthday, a best friends necklace for us! I knew we could never be parted, because we were truly best friends.

Dear Diary,

In sixth grade, Grace was very optimistic and she almost never frowned when speaking of her dad. We met new friends and enjoyed The year, and even now I look back at that breeze in my face, my friendship with Grace, the look on her face when she saw her dad for the first genuine time, I will never forget that, how much it meant to me, and that I would never take anything for granted, for God gave me things Many others will never have.