Hope

By Connor Van Alstine

At Hope, all my troubles melt like flaming ice. I wake up and sneak past my parents' bed, step out on the wooden deck and breathe in the fresh morning air and listen to the sweet sound of the red-tailed woodpecker.

In the late afternoon we go out to pick the apples that make our Thanksgiving applesauce, but always saving some for the car ride home.

Hope is heaven.

• Connor Van Alstine, 7, lives in Anchorage.