I used to like to draw. Every second I had to myself I drew. Sometimes I drew pictures of my mom, or Grandma, or my best friend Mike. In the summers, I sat on the curb with Grandma as she struggled to get enough money to feed the family. I didn't And know what it meant when I was younger. And if I knew we would soon have to pay for clean air to breathe, I would've laughed. I wish I was still a small girl. Maybe I would still have my dad. Maybe we wouldn't be struggling as much to pay the oxygen bill. Maybe I could still swing with Mike under our favorite tree. But I'm not as young as I used to be.