"Only in the Bakery" - Natalie Kellett

While my mother was growing up, her nuclear family would commute to Nebraska on a semi-annual basis to visit their extended family. My mother’s grandfather (my great-grandfather), Bill NImmich, owned a small bakery in the tiny town of Pawnee City, Nebraska. When her family visited Nebraska, they would all squeeze into the humble living space located above the Nimmich bakery.

As my mother experienced these family get-togethers, she saw the love and dedication her grandfather put into his baking. Her grandfather would faithfully wake up at 4:30 every morning to assemble the pastries. Through his adoration for baking, my mother gained her own fondness for the art. When she turned five years old, my mother started working alongside her grandfather in the bakery. Her passion for baking continued throughout High School where she was employed at the small school bakery. At this informal bakery my mother made cinnamon rolls that were famous school-wide.

Seeing Dead Loved Ones - Jordan Harder

It was freshman year; I was excited to finally be a high school student, ready to meet new people and make new friends. In my child development class I met one of the sweetest boys I have ever met, his name was Josh. We became close friends and hung out a lot; even rode the bus home together. The child development class had a project of taking home a fake baby for a few days. It was supposed to make teens understand what being a parent is like at such a young age. Josh named his Alaska. He made me do most of the work for him but I was fine with that because that meant I got to spend more time with him. As time went on we started to grow apart, we talked less, and I could tell something was different about him. Semester two started off with me trying out for the soccer team.