It doesn't stop. No matter what, it just keeps...going. If there's rocks it just goes around it. The river is so different to my life, our family just keeps hitting rocks head-on. We can't go around them, we just have to deal with them. But we struggle doing that. Dad doesn't have a well paying job but he does his best. Lately we have just got enough to pay for the house and we had to sell the car. So many things fill my head at home, dad's working non-stop to pay for the house. So I hardly ever see him. With that, my mum is out of the story, she left us when I was three, And never looked back.I can't not worry for dad and me, I can't just not stress, but when I come to the river it's like I can IMAGINE. I can think about me for a few moments. I can put me first. I love my dad dearly but I'd love to be able to live a normal life. Dad would go to work for just a few hours and I could go to school, have friends and I could run and climb near the water after school for hours on end. Oh the river. It's so fresh and cool. Every day after I wash the dishes, clean the clothes, make dinner and set the table, I come to the river. With my paper in one hand and pencil in the other. I can't afford good art supplies, I got my paper from the school down the road (which we can't afford to go to) and my pencil from our neighbour Ms Gilben. Next to the river there is a massive old tree, I climb to the highest branch and listen, I listen to the river.

I sat at the table in silence, my food was going cold. He still hadn't came home. Dad said that tonight he would be home on time.

 We ourselves feel that all we do is just a drop in the ocean

But the ocean would be less without that drop.

-Mother Teresa