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There Is No One Like Me
by Renata Amanuela Murg - seventh grade
There once was a garden of flowers,
All of them shone a luscious red.
All except the one in the middle;
The only yellow one in the garden bed.
The many others would laugh and point.
They all would call her nasty names.
The yellow flower was always left out,
Out of their fun and out of their games.
Soon the little yellow flower
Began to believe what they would say.
She was a problem, a big mistake,
And no one wanted her to stay.
The little flower began dying.
Her petals soon began to wilt.
No one loved her.  No one cared.
None had pity.   None felt guilt.
Till one day a llittle child
Saw the flower, and he said,
"Why is the queen of this garden dying,
The one that rules the garden bed?"
When she heard these words exclaimed
The little flower threw up her head.
Soon she realized what had happened;
The truth in what the child had said.
God had made her a yellow color.
God had made her a different one.
God had made her very special.
God had made her like the sun.
She was different, but unique.
She was happy, filled with glee.
Proudly now the flower proclaimed,
"There is no one just like me!"
by Maria Paula Murg - junior
When days are bright and lives are calm
When all is well and as it should
We live in peace without a qualm
When God seems near, and God seems good
Then, He is Faithful.
When troubles come, our paths do cross
And all is dark and so unknown
At every turn, another loss
And God seems far, and we, alone
Yet, He is Faithful.
In darkness and in pain and tears
In light and joy and calm and peace
In every circumstance He hears
To watch us He will never cease
Yes, He is Faithful.
And yet most wondrous thing of all
Is that He feels our every pain
He watches o'er our every fall
His heart does leap at every gain
He is so Faithful.
He is our Father, just and true
He is our Friend at every turn
He is our Guide, He'll see us through
Another name we've yet to learn
His name is Faithful.
Should I Take Up His Cross?
by Miriam Sinitean - freshman
Should I take up His cross,
Or will it be too hard?
Will it hurt my back?
Will I get scarred?
Will it cause me to bleed?
Will it bring me pain?
If I take up His cross,
Will people remember my name?
On the road to Golgotha,
Should I take up His cross?
Will it be a good gain,
Or a terrible loss?
What if I get tired
On the way up the hill?
The cross falls off my back -
Everything is still.
Then would Jesus come
From among the crowds?
Would He help me up?
Would He say He's proud?
Will He take His cross,
And place it on His back?
Will He whisper in my ear
"When I die, all the stones will crack"?
As He goes up the hill,
I make up my mind.
I run to Him,
And He looks behind.
"I will carry Your cross," I say,
As I take it from His back.
He turns to me and smiles.
And in that moment I know,
That I should have been carrying it for a while.
Jesus - the Jew
by Irina Murg - senior
The virgin birth
This holy night
Bringing much mirth,
Joy and delight.
A Gift of worth
To earth brought light.
No cry did ring
For babe forsook,
But angels sing
And shepherds look
In worship
Their hearts were shook.
So few do know
And do adore
Oh, to their woe,
Christ, the Savior.
He loves you so;
His heart you tore.
He came for you
To His own loss.
Jesus, the Jew,
Died on the cross,
For those so few
To cleanse of dross.
A Rock
by Luca Daniel Murg - fifth grade
A ROCK so strong
That you never went wrong
When you stayed on it
When you fell in a pit
All you needed was faith in Him
To get out and be clean
Acknowledge your mistake
Forgiveness you must take
As long as you will stay on with patience - I say,
Your victory is won
He is your salvation
Just have some faith in the Son


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