In the eyes of: Radu I woke up this morning And stifled a yawn I looked ‘round the bunkroom But Harlan was gone. No wonder I slept well I heard no one snore Harlan left early And rushed out the door. A strange thing for Harlan Since he values sleep I wonder what secret He’s trying to keep. I get up and listen For any clear signs Of a happy-go-lucky Early-bird guy. I hear a faint whistling From Davenport’s room It sounds much like Harlan Is that where he looms? How can he be happy When he goes to class He hardly knows answers He cant even pass. I quickly get ready And rush off to meet The red-headed teacher With quick-running feet. I rush in the door And colors astound The walls are bright green And red spread around. Is this some sick joke? To make my head ache? With nothing to do, My seat, I go take. I sit and I listen As class now embarks Ms. D tells us stories Of old times and harks. She tells us of tree tinsel And a thing called an “angel” She describes all the festives And talks about a manger. If this is what it takes For me to get along, Then give me a nice Christmas tree And lyrics to a song. Although the culture’s odd And filled with song and cheer, They celebrate with family Every single year. My family, the Christa Along with time to spend. This holiday seems better And will bring a happy end. ~Radu