There Are Very Few Bad People. There

It Meant That She Belonged Some Place. She Was A Brooklyn Girl With A Brooklyn Name And A Brooklyn Accent. She Didn't Want To Change Into A Bit Of This And A Bit Of That.

No Matter Where Its Seed Fell, It Made A Tree Which Struggled To Reach The Sky. It Grew In Boarded-up Lots And Out Of Neglected Rubbish Heaps, And It Was The Only Tree That Grew Out Of Cement. It Grew Lushly, But Only In The Tenements Districts.... That Was The Kind Of Tree It Was. It Liked Poor People.

Serene Was A Word You Could Put To Brooklyn New York. Especially In The Summer Of 1912. Somber As A Word Was Better. But It Did Not Apply To Williamsburg Brooklyn. Prairie Was Lovely And Shenandoah Had A Beautiful Sound But You Couldn't Fit Those Words Into Brooklyn. Serene Was The Only Word For It Especially On A Saturday Afternoon In Summer.

If There Was Only One Tree Like That In The World, You Would Think It Was Beautiful. But Because There Are So Many, You Just Can't See How Beautiful It Really Is.

Oh, Magic Hour, When A Child First Knows She Can Read Printed Words.