By Elisabetta, Age 8
I hopped off the bus, wondering how long we will not go to school. “About one month,”
my mom says. “I hope so,” I thought. It was the only thing I could do. The few days of
virtual school were ok, I would say. At the end of 1st grade, I started a pod with my best
friend. Life was harder with a mask but I kept putting on my mask. I was always worried
for my great grandma, who was 96 years old, but I still had hope. One day, we had to move, but at least it was in Atlanta. I had hoped to start a new adventure in a new house. Covid kept going. It hit
my grandfather, Nonno, who lives in Italy. I read books to make me feel better.
The Front Desk series was one. When my school decided to take off masks, fireworks exploded in
my chest! I knew a better life would come because I had hope.