|Voices on the Wind||Voices from Teen Years|
In the Junior High Art Room Annex by Wilda Morris I thought all people either good or bad— and only bad boys smoked— until the day I encountered Jim as I set my watercolor to dry. Jim sighed. When I turned to look, he pointed to a classmate’s painting on the table and whispered, It’s beautiful, just beautiful. Then I knew beneath the tough-guy tee-shirt with the pack of Camels in the pocket, there was a soul, deep and lovely and spiritual.