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I received the following email several months ago from my oldest niece. In it she expresses herself in a way that never in a million, billion, zillion years would occur to me: poetry. As a point of reference, I am The Math Fairy (the back story will have to wait for another day) and share the following with her permission.

The subject line read: Math Fairy I Need You

Dear Math Fairy,

I am in desperate need of your help! I wrote a poem about math to help you understand my feelings towards it. Hope you enjoy it :-(.

What Math is to Me
By Emily

Math is evil,
Unforgiving,
Math is hard to understand.
Math is way worse than a first-grade band.
Math is hated,
Unlegible,
Math is hard for me.
**********

Wow.  I have never written a poem to express my feelings about anything without it being assigned. Clearly, she has strong feeling about Math and TMF (The Math Fairy) wrote the following response:

Dear Emily,

(This is Math speaking, by the way, I’m borrowing Aunt Amy’s computer),

I thought I’d start off with a poem about what you are to me.

What Emily is to Me
by Math

Emily is kind,
Her smile warms me.
She helps people
and her laugh is like listening to a cool summer brook
She is loved.
I want her to be my friend
**********

Hey, what was Math doing on here? This is now Aunt Amy …. looks like Math wrote something. Let me see what she said. (I’m back now, I scrolled up) I agree with Math’s poem about you! It seems that Math knows you well and that it’s a little hard for you to know math. Is that another way of seeing it? (She’s not really evil, you know. Not like a wicked step-mother in Cinderella!)

I have a new MFIT here in Beijing (Math Fairy in training). Want to know how you become one? All you have to do is notice someday that math is a little bit more fun than you thought! If that ever happens, let me know! There is a real certificate for being a MFIT and everything (and everything means that Isabel and I will put on our fancy dresses and skype you).

I am seriously sorry that math is so FRUSTRATING for you. But know that Math WANTS you to “get” her. She’s not playing hide and seek or being mean. She likes you. Not as much as I do!!!!!! But she DOES like you.

And I LOVE you :)!

Love, AA

*******

Through this exchange (and the subsequent emails) I discovered that Emily has a poetry notebook and often writes poems to process and express her life. That’s right. Poetry. Take that all those who fuss about “the youth of today.”

She has graciously agreed to let you peek into her world through these poems.

Wind, oh glorious wind
By Emily Smith

Wind, oh glorious wind
You swirl my hair about my face
The trees have rhythm with your grace
Stirring up hibernating leaves,
You are alive with freshness and ease
My favorite type of weather: wind!
Wind, oh glorious wind

Downpour
by Emily Smith

The rumble of distant thunder
interrupts my thoughts.
A lightning finger
streaks across the sky to snag something
The pitter patter of rain
pounds at my head…
Like a constant drumbeat.
Outside is a wall of black clouds,
leering and laughing at me.
A torrent of water
falls from the sky;
The beginning of an all-night downpour.

Piano Playing
by Emily Smith

My eyes dart across the page,
My fingers dart across the keys.
I love it when I get to play:
I’m having lots of fun today.
Suddenly a salsa, waltz, tango,
Ballet too.
Peddles pumping,
Keys a’thumping,
Eyes are darting too.
Hands are clapping,
Feet are tapping;
Piano playing’s great!
I love it when I get to play for her and
him and you!
*********

Emily, thanks for sharing. You are now a published author and I look forward to the ways your poetry will bless you and others over the years. Love, AAA

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