Dust Bowl

My name is Lily, and I live on a big, sunny farm. My best friend is my puppy, Dusty. We love to play outside. The sun shines so bright, and the sky is a big blue blanket. We run through the tall, tall wheat. The wheat tickles my nose and makes me giggle. Swish, swish, swish go the wheat stalks in the wind. Dusty wags his tail and barks. We play hide-and-seek until Momma calls us in for supper. Our farm is a happy, sunny, wonderful place to be. I love my home.

Then, one day, the rain stopped coming. Our sunny fields turned from yellow to brown. The ground felt crackly under my feet. In the 1930s, something strange happened. A big, rumbling cloud came, but it wasn't a rain cloud. It was a giant cloud of dust. It was so big it covered the whole sun, right in the middle of the day. Whoosh, whoosh, went the wind, whistling a loud song. Dust was everywhere. It tickled my nose more than the wheat. It got in our house and even on the yummy cookies Momma baked. I held Dusty close. It was a little bit different, but Papa said we would be okay. We called it a black blizzard.

After the big brown clouds went away, everyone decided to help our farm. We had to work together. Papa and our neighbors planted long, long rows of little trees. They said the trees would be like a big hug for the land, to keep the dirt from blowing away. I helped plant a tiny tree, just my size. I gave it a little water. Then, guess what. The rain came back. Pitter-patter, pitter-patter. Soon, little green sprouts peeked out of the ground. Our farm was getting healthy again because we all took care of it together.