Skip To Content
JEWISH. INDEPENDENT. NONPROFIT.
Culture

I know a home

Editor’s Note: The Forward is featuring essays, poems and short stories written for our Young Writers Contest. Today’s entry was written by Lois Geraldine Proeller, a 7th grader at Sutton Middle School in Atlanta. You can find more work from our young writers here

There is never a day that passes by when Robin doesn’t consider running away.

As seconds fly through the air, all she can imagine is the soft, loving touch of sunshine kissing every inch of her toffee skin. She dreams of running through fields of emerald green clovers, her unruly chestnut curls and the overwhelming feeling of safety blurring her field of vision. Her feet push down against the tiny leaves as the sky beams proudly down onto her, assuring her that this is the place she belongs.

Lois Proeller

Contestant: Lois Proeller is a 7th grader at Sutton Middle School in Atlanta. Image by Courtesy of Lois Proeller

All the gray the world held is left behind as she and the wind run hand in hand, the feeling of pure liberation trailing not too far behind. It was a feeling that she hadn’t felt before, an overwhelming sensation that allowed the floral touch of May into her brain to come to a full bloom.

Sunflowers, yellow leaves, and brown seeds shield her from the cold memories the night held, as the grass rubs up against her calloused fingertips. It is green, soft enough to pick and blow into the breeze as evergreen trees smile down at her chocolate chip dotted nose. She was safe.

The sea sings her mind to sleep, her free heart would be thrown into the midst of the sleepy air. The sky painted with firm brushstrokes of teal, and the shade of sand reflecting the blues of the place Robin will go.

Robin would escape, run away to a house that would hold all of the safety she craved and the protection she needed. The fear, once grasping her, would leave her on the side of a cracked road beside the house, her mind seeping in the silence of love.

Robin will fall to the Earth. The sun will beam on her with every thought and shade of soft orange and yellow. Her soul will be free, and she will be at rest.

And there she will stay.

A message from our Publisher & CEO Rachel Fishman Feddersen

I hope you appreciated this article. Before you go, I’d like to ask you to please support the Forward’s award-winning, nonprofit journalism during this critical time.

We’ve set a goal to raise $260,000 by December 31. That’s an ambitious goal, but one that will give us the resources we need to invest in the high quality news, opinion, analysis and cultural coverage that isn’t available anywhere else.

If you feel inspired to make an impact, now is the time to give something back. Join us as a member at your most generous level.

—  Rachel Fishman Feddersen, Publisher and CEO

With your support, we’ll be ready for whatever 2025 brings.

Republish This Story

Please read before republishing

We’re happy to make this story available to republish for free, unless it originated with JTA, Haaretz or another publication (as indicated on the article) and as long as you follow our guidelines. You must credit the Forward, retain our pixel and preserve our canonical link in Google search.  See our full guidelines for more information, and this guide for detail about canonical URLs.

To republish, copy the HTML by clicking on the yellow button to the right; it includes our tracking pixel, all paragraph styles and hyperlinks, the author byline and credit to the Forward. It does not include images; to avoid copyright violations, you must add them manually, following our guidelines. Please email us at [email protected], subject line “republish,” with any questions or to let us know what stories you’re picking up.

We don't support Internet Explorer

Please use Chrome, Safari, Firefox, or Edge to view this site.