This morning I received an email of a poem that my niece wrote for a school assignment she read to her classmates.  

Just Maybe

I came home from school to a notice on the door. 

It’s not the first time, it’s been happening more and more.

This time it’s our water, last month the gas

Who knows what it’ll be next time, the money just doesn’t last.

This month we’ll make the car payment, we’ll hold off on cable for now.

Next month, we’ll work on credit cards, it’s hard, we’ll have to figure out how.

Maybe that will be enough to save the house.  Just maybe.

Don’t cry, honey, and don’t answer the phone.

Maybe I can get a second job, or maybe a family loan.

I can sell my pet hamster, one less mouth to feed.

I will baby-sit, mow lawns, go without, whatever you need.

Don’t worry, she says, tears on her face,

You shouldn’t have to struggle to save this place.

Maybe that will be enough to save the house.  Just maybe.

I came home from school to moving trucks outside.

My belongings in boxes, my tears I try to hide.

We tried in vain, and tried so hard

New house, new school, new friendships to start.

I’m nervous and scared, but cover it with a smile

I’ll be back on my feet, but it may take awhile.

Just wasn’t enough to save the house.  Just wasn’t.

by Shayann ~ 16 years old

Her words touch me…yes, she’s my sweetie-pie and I’m so sorry that her family lost their home last year.   I wonder how many other classmates of Shayann and kids like her are feeling the pain of foreclosure.