Wonder what children think about hell, careers and catastrophes? Sit back and listen to three poems with some insights into their private worries.

Theology of hell

I was worried. I was sevenand Daddy (as we called him then)was tucking me into bed.I was worried about hell.I wasn’t sure how bad you had to be.

So I asked him, “When I diewill I go to heaven orto hell?” Not a chatterboxhe thought before he answered.We always could see him thinkingwith his eyeballs and his mouth.

He said, “I don’t believe in hellfor God is a loving God.But if there is a hell, I’m surethat only a very very fewwould go to hell, and only after doingsomething very very bad.”

“Like what?” I pushed.Again he pondered. Then he said,“Like killing a person on purposeand never feeling sorry.”He was a vicar, and he knew.

He kissed me goodnightand left me healed.I knew for sure and certainI would never killa person, not on purposeand if I did, I would be sorry—so I wouldn’t go to hell.

Vocational Guidance

You have to say something when they askand they always ask.But I haven’t decided yet.

I might be an anthropologistor I might be a lady with a nail polish shopor I might be both, and in my spare time

I might be a ballerina.When I get tired of being a ballerinaI will have a baby called Hannah

and she will be my friend.But I can’t have two friends called Hannahso I will give my baby Hannah

to my other friend, Layla.Actually I won’t get tiredof being a ballerina.

Elsie's Scale of Terribleness

Having no one to play with is four out of tenif it’s only a single day.A sunburn on your bones is an eight.Dropping your lunch in the dirt is a five.A zombie attack is about a nineA ten would be if my dog died(that would make me very sad)or if all the humans of the worldgot destructed by the God of Mudbut Granny dying would only bea five, because she’s old.

All poems are from How To Be Old, for sale at any New Zealand book store (if not, they'll order it) or buy direct from The Cuba Press.