When I was eight


I woke up before dawn.
The house still asleep.
Not a creak could be heard.
Except for Dad snoring.

I had woken before the alarm.
Restless to jump out of bed.
To start the day now.
But no one was awake yet.

I was restless waiting.
It always feels longer.
I hear the clock ticking.
But time seem to crawl.

The alarm clock rings.
At last I hear movements.
Mum and Dad are up and about.
I jump out of bed smiling.

My Mum has put out my white dress.
I stare at my dress. Pretty frills.
And a lovely veil with a crown.
I cannot wait to wear them.

I am excited. Butterflies in my tummy.
An important day for an eight-year-old.
Today is my First Communion.
I am impatient to receive Jesus.

By C.E. Pereira


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