The trees shook madly as Carmen Gonzalez made her way to a towering oak named El Grande Oak. She sat down on the roots that had managed to break through the ground. It was the only place she could be away from the chaos of her own home and relax in the quiet of the Marongo woods. Wildflowers and thornbushes covered the ground, while oak and birch trees towered overhead. It was the quietest place in the small town of Marongo, a town a little south from Madrid. Nobody chose to vacation to Marongo, but it was not frowned upon. There were no national landmarks, but small miracles were popular. It was not paradise, but it had its own inner beauty. Carmen situated herself against the great oak as she opened her journal and took out her pen. Then she started to recite the day’s highlights in her head. Every night, after the candles went out, she would sneak a match and candle from the cupboard. She would then make her way quietly with her journal and pen to the big oak where she sat now. Nothing at her home was ever like the calming Marongo woods. Carmen had three sisters (one younger, two older) and three brothers (two younger, one older). She was the middle child, and “the beauty of the family” While her mother and siblings had short, stringy hair and big, long noses, Carmen had long, thick hair and a short, cute nose. Her outer beauty shone brighter than her inner beauty, though, for she was very shy. She liked to keep to herself, which was extremely hard at home. Her brothers and sisters were always playing loudly and obnoxiously, while Carmen enjoyed calmness and quiet in a household. Suddenly, a bright light came from nowhere,and in it appeared a small girl. Carmen had had a friend once, named Maria Rodriguez. Maria had moved to New York, with Carmen’s father as the guide and helper. They had all died in the crashing of the World Trade Center. Every night, after visiting the Marongo woods, Carmen would lie in her bed and recall the details about her father and her best friend. Carmen thought of her friend often, also kind yet very shy. She was so kindhearted, though, she would have achieved great things if she had lived, Carmen thought. Suddenly, out of the darkness and the stillness, a bright light came from nowhere, and in it appeared a small girl. She had short black hair and a beautiful, Hispanic face. She was dressed in a gold ball gown, with white lace on the sleeves. Carmen thought the girl was strangely familiar. Then it hit her. “Maria,” Carmen said very quietly, almost like a whisper. “Hola, Carmen,” Maria said in a clear, tall voice, which was highly peculiar for Maria was very shy, even with her friends. “I have been sent on a mission to tell you a story I heard right before I died.” “Once, there was a beautiful maiden named Rita Diaz. She was daughter to the baker of the town. She was shy and quiet, but very kind. One day, Rita received a letter asking for her hand in marriage. She was too shy to refuse, so she was sent away to live with her new husband, Antonio Rivera, and his family She soon realized that he was a cruel, mean man who even disobeyed his elders. Rita was too shy to ask for a divorce, so she stayed. Her husband made many terrible choices for her, so she was led into a hard, cold life. The end. “Rita is like you, Carmen,” Maria said after finishing her story “If you wish to have a lovely life full of grace and happiness, you must learn to speak your own voice. Do not be scared to show your feelings. Carmen, do not be shy any longer, for I am watching over you, as is your father. Find your voice, and use it.” With that, there was another burst of light, and Maria Rodriguez floated up into the sky, producing beautiful, silver wings. Carmen let Maria’s words sink in. She had been letting other people take over her life. She had to get a voice, one that was her own. She knew it would not be easy, for she was already fourteen years old. Yet she knew that if she tried her hardest, she could succeed. Erin Bennett, 11Chicago, Illinois Susannah Benjamin,12Greenwich, Connecticut
Diversity
Piggy Bank
The airport is packed. It’s so hot! I wish they had air-conditioning inside the Managua airport. Managua is the capital of Nicaragua. It’s nighttime. I can’t believe it can be this hot at night. I don’t want to know how hot it gets to be during the day. When the porter is taking our bags to the exit of the airport, I notice a stand with all these cool toys. I try to convince my dad to buy me a toy, but he refuses. Instead he gives me forty dollars, telling me that I have to spend it on something special. We walk out of the airport, when suddenly all these children come rushing to me and my family. We’re now surrounded by kids my age and younger trying to sell me gum. My mom tells me to follow her. I get into the car sadly. The image of all these kids trying to sell me items is stuck in my head. I try to picture me and my friends selling gum to people. I can’t. Our hotel is nice. The people there are friendly. Our room is tiny, but we have a big window. My mom says Nicaragua has changed since she had been here last. I ask her how Nicaragua was when she was growing up. She tells me it’s too late and that I have to go to bed. But I can’t. How can I go to bed with the images of those kids? How can I? Just when I think I’ll never fall asleep, I do. On the way out I reach into my pocket to get my money. I give it to the boy selling flowers The next day my mom wants to go to a restaurant she read about for lunch. My dad has to go to the lobby to rent a car. We meet him down in the lobby for breakfast, and then we go to the mall across the street to get some clothes for the hot weather. The mall has all the stores that are in the U.S. but it’s run down. I see a horsey ride that is missing its nose. The area around it is all messed up and dirty. It makes me want to leave. Later we get into the car that we rented and head for the restaurant that my mom wanted to go to. I can see the soldiers patrolling the streets. We’re at a red light, when all of a sudden all these kids come rushing to our car. They offer to wash our windshields and try to sell us gum. The kids look sad. Some of the bigger boys sniff glue. I wonder why? My mom tells me that sniffing glue kills hunger and brain cells. I can’t believe that these kids have to work. It’s not fair. Kids like me have play dates, go to the movies and stuff like that, while these kids just try to get food on their tables. Why don’t I have to go and sell gum? I want to give these kids all they ever wanted, but I can’t. It makes me feel powerless. I want to give them my whole piggy bank. We’re in the restaurant, but I can’t eat. The restaurant is adobe red. The food is good. People are eating gallo pinto. A guitar player comes to play us some mariachi music. Everyone is laughing and having fun, but I’m just playing with my food. My mom looks concerned. She knows what’s bothering me. My mom says that I can’t fix everything. I don’t want to believe her. Through the whole meal, I notice a kid outside of the restaurant trying to sell flowers. He’s short, about five years old, and has a hopeful and stubborn look on his face. No one is buying the flowers. Then I remember the forty dollars that my dad gave me so I could buy a souvenir. My dad pays the check. After the waitress returns with my dad’s credit card, we thank her. On the way out I reach into my pocket to get my money I give it to the boy selling flowers. He offers me a flower, but I refuse. He joyfully walks away I smile, wishing I could do this to whomever I want. I tell my mom that I can fix some things. Andreas Freund, 11San Francisco, California Zachary MeyerShelby Township, Michigan
Second Chance
Mina gazed across the playground—over fifty children her age were scattered in front of her, but not one of them would be her friend. It wasn’t that they were unfriendly; three of them had already asked her if she wanted to eat lunch with them, but it was Mina who had vowed not to make a single friend at this school, or any school in the entire United States for that matter. What was wrong with Jordan anyway? thought Mina. Looking at all the other students though, she did half wish she had been friendlier when first introduced to them. Mina would have stayed at the edge of the playground scowling, wishing the bell would ring, if the girl hadn’t approached her. “Hi, I’m Hannah… you’re the new student from Jordan, aren’t you?” said a girl who looked to be about eleven, with dark brown eyes and a gentle smile. “I saw what you painted in art today, it was really good. I wish I could paint like that…” Mina just glanced at Hannah and then went back to scowling. “I just moved here from Boston a month ago… actually, I think I live across the street from you…” Here Hannah trailed off, looking expectantly at Mina as if waiting for her to say something. If Hannah was expecting a gracious “Nice to meet you” or “Hope to see you around the neighborhood,” then she was going to be disappointed. It wasn’t too late to say any of these things, but Mina was obviously not going to. Seeing this, Hannah looked at the grass beneath them and muttered, “I think someone’s calling me,” and sprinted off. As Mina looked at the strong, mature trees around her and the clear blue sky above her, she thought wistfully of how she could paint this place. Mina was not boasting when she said she could paint. Apart from Hannah, only her parents had commented on her work, but she knew she had talent. Mina’s favorite things to paint were the mosques and the gold souk, both of which she knew well from living in Jordan. She had come to the United States thinking her painting days were over, that there would be nothing interesting to paint here, but to find such beauty… no, she thought. In fact, she would paint even more pictures of the sand dunes and the Hajal mountains that were Jordan. Seeing Hannah’s pale blue top in the distance, Mina started regretting her cold behavior towards Hannah, but stopped almost as soon as she started. She was going to stay strong on her vow, not to make a single friend. And besides, she liked standing in the shade of the trees, all alone. “Hi, I’m Hannah… you’re the new student from Jordan, aren’t you?” “Have you made any friends yet?” asked Mina’s mother, at dinner. “No, and I’m not going to. I hate school. I want to go back to Jordan,” answered Mina. Her parents looked at her, the disappointment shining in their eyes. “We came to America for your future. And now you say you hate it here?” asked her mother, even though she knew the answer. “What was wrong with Jordan?” asked Mina. After a pause, her father answered, “Think of the opportunities you will have here. You will have twice as much as you would in Jordan.” “But everything is different. I prefer my old life to this one,” said Mina, thinking her father couldn’t possibly have an answer to that. But seconds later, he put his fork down and, changing his tone, said, “Mina, habibti, don’t you see? No matter what country we are in, we are ourselves. The only person stopping you having your old life is yourself. ” Enraged by his words, and somewhat offended, Mina shouted, “You say you came here to make my life better. All you’ve done is made it worse.” Before she knew it, she was running down the road, away from her house. As she ran, she thought about what her father had said. Though they were in a new country, they still ate lamb, okra and saffron rice, they still spoke Arabic and, most importantly, they still prayed to Allah. Though their lives had changed, how much had they changed? She slowed down as a chilly breeze swept in, and by the time it left, so had her anger. She turned around, and started running back home. As she ran, she started composing what she would say to her father. She ran in, going straight to her father and, kissing his hand, apologized, saying she “hadn’t thought before speaking.” After being forgiven, she asked if she may go somewhere, and although they were puzzled, her parents told her to go, but to be careful. “I won’t be far,” said Mina, “I’m just going across the road.” She smiled to herself; she knew what to do, and that was to apologize to Hannah. * * * Mina found herself in front of a one-story, brick house with Hannah’s shoes by the door. Mina couldn’t believe such a simple house could be so beautiful. The whole section was bathed in shade supplied by a huge oak tree. The tree’s bark was cracked, and though it looked very old, it also looked very sturdy As for the house… Mina just couldn’t stop looking at it, with its rustic red bricks, and dark green vine crawling up the side. Mina gave the house one more look, then rang the doorbell. After waiting a few seconds, she was greeted by a woman with dark brown eyes and a gentle smile. It could only be Hannah’s mother. “Um, hi… I’m Mina, Hannah knows me from school… could I talk to her?” The woman’s expression suddenly changed and she said, “Oh, Hannah’s told us all about you, and how you treated her… well, I’ll go and get her,” and she walked away Mina was embarrassed by what the woman had said, but even
