Eleven years old, now in middle school
You can’t wait until you’re eighteen
So you can say bad words
Don’t think I’ve ever seen you pout
Though I’m sure you’re able
You love to eat whatever
Is fresh from the garden
Or cold from the old fridge in the garage
About Me
- Wanda
- Wondering…always questioning, testing and re-thinking * A student of people whom I love and whose path I simply cross * Never bored with color to see, books to read, garden to tend, paths to walk, and doodles to do * Deep desire for peace * And committed to follow Jesus’ way toward it
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