A Special Home by Dewi Zarni

I first lived in D.C., then Chicago, then Berkeley, (which some people call Berzerkeley). My favorite was D.C. I loved the snow all white; it was like the clouds had dandruff. I was six months old. We lived in a big house that we shared with our friends. I slept in a white room with wall-to-wall carpet that had a little slide near my bed. I had all my friends down the hall, and my godmother across the street. We had a pink cherry blossom tree outside and it looked magical in the spring. There was a group of kids who lived across the street and whose parents neglected them because their families were poor. Their parents had to always work. So my mom let them come over and play. One kid's brother was in a wheelchair and his parents put him on the street to watch the cars go by.

My friend Lila (she was seven), liked to press the ice machine until there was a pile of nearly melted ice for someone to clean up. But, nobody noticed because I was going on the slide with my friends from across the street and my mom was trying to get me to say mama, "Say Mama, Say Mama" which I finally said. She looked like she was going to sing Joy to the World.

Then Chicago. My room was almost the same; except for I had more Spanish things because of my Spanish speaking babysitter. My mom told her to mostly speak Spanish to me so I would learn. The other thing I had in my room was my own boom box so I could play Twinkle Twinkle Little Star.

Then last was Berkeley. When we moved from Chicago all our friends from D.C. moved to Berkeley. So I almost knew everybody on my block. I'm not going to tell you anymore about Berkeley because that story hasn't ended yet and I hope it never will.