It needs courage to build a school ! It needs courage to touch children’s hearts ! It needs courage to welcome homelessness ! It needs courage to stand with us in one line ! It needs courage to open an educational house ! It needs courage to trade hope for hopelessness ! It needs courage to give pens to those who have never touched a pen before ! It needs courage to paint the black-and-white world of the wounded ! It needs courage to advocate from silence ! It needs courage to give shelter to others ! It needs courage to stay a human ! It needs courage ! It needs courage BECAUSE . . . It’s easy to destroy ! It’s easy to break hearts ! It’s easy to shout at the silenced ! It’s easy to close your eyes on truths ! It’s easy to hurt those who have been hurt many times ! It’s easy to sit aside ! It’s easy to show your power against weakness ! It’s easy ! But we will never give up ! We will build again, stronger than before ! We will help again, more committed than before ! We will bring happiness and stay happy, happier than before ! We will make islands free Parwana Amiri, 16Herat Province, Afghanistan;Ritsona Refugee Camp, Greece About the Project There are millions of children affected by war, social collapse, and climate change now living in refugee camps, or dispersed in host countries far from their original homes. The work that appears here is a part of Stone Soup’s growing collection of creative expression by young people whose lives have been upended by such conflict throughout the world. To explore the entire collection, please visit the Stone Soup Refugee Project online: https://stonesoup.com/refugee-project/

 The woodpecker pecks at the tree peck, peck, peck with a calming sound as I walk by. I wonder what it’s looking for (bugs? ants?), so diligently pecking at. The bird is yellow, a bit smaller than a hawk. He seems to look at me, for a second. Then he flexes his wings and leaps off a branch, gliding through the air like a paper airplane, as if to say, Farewell. Summer Loh, 8New York, NY

Beneath the protection of its strong branches, I hear birds chirping and singing their songs. The leaves rustle as squirrels race to their nests. The tree is high, thick, and rough. There is a bud of a flower on top of the leaves that I hope will bloom one day. And I see some birds that months from now will be miles away. Bits of bark float off into the air as leaves bow down gracefully to the high and mighty winds. Summer Loh, 8New York, NY

~Sylvia If the sky is blue, then fly with me! If the sun is bright, then fly with me! If the sea is rough, then fly with! If you have wings, then fly with me! If the wind blows through your wings, then fly with me! Come here and fly with me! ~Parwana The sky is dark, please help me! The sun is sad, please help me! The sea is stormy, please help me! My wings are small, please help me! The butterflies are afraid, please help me! My world is ignored, please help me! I am a refugee, please help me! Please help me! Help me! ~Sylvia & Parwana Never be scared! We are together, with no fear! We are together, full of courage! We are together, with strong fists! We are together, with powerful steps! We are together, to fly and spy in the air! We are together, to make a storm of happiness! We are together, to stand up against all odds! We are together, no one can stop us! Because We are together, we are together! Parwana Amiri, 16Herat Province, Afghanistan;Ritsona Refugee Camp, Greece About the Project There are millions of children affected by war, social collapse, and climate change now living in refugee camps, or dispersed in host countries far from their original homes. The work that appears here is a part of Stone Soup’s growing collection of creative expression by young people whose lives have been upended by such conflict throughout the world. To explore the entire collection, please visit the Stone Soup Refugee Project online: https://stonesoup.com/refugee-project/

I make a move. His bishop falls down. Well, there goes his queen and her shiny crown. My knight soars through the air, stealing the square of his pawn without any care. My pawns are in a line. Minutes pass by. My position is fine. I’m playing my best, my position is great, and then . . . checkmate! Summer Loh, 8New York, NY

i had my first strand of white hair at thirteen it was an ordinary day turned into an un-ordinary day mom was combing my hair i was daydreaming, blissfully unaware when mom told me her finding my heart screamed and screamed how could this be possible? it simply could not be! i shook my head frantically denial, denial the light must have played tricks on her i could not believe it for the world my kind sister showed me proof a photo on a mobile phone, a sympathetic “oof” and that was when i thought: i will grow old someday ———- an hour later, in school, i was feeling blue i cast glances of envy at the classmates around me gossiping and nodding smiling and laughing they were perfectly ordinary they were perfectly happy they did not have their first strand of white hair at thirteen my teachers walked into the classroom heads of hair like flowers in full bloom radiating from head to toe the very definition of “glow” they were, compared to me, years and years older not a strand of white hair on their shoulders one thing’s for sure they did not have their first strand of white hair at thirteen ———- looking in the mirror i thought i’d see that strand of white hair clearer i wanted to launch a vicious attack but it was lost in a sea of black a sea of black . . . like everyone else into the crowd, it melts but i was never normal i was born different inside reassured i stepped away from the mirror it’s okay to be different and have your first strand of white hair at thirteen that consoling reassurance vanished with a puff i thought i could be strong, but it proved tough when an article appeared on the news talking about that writer’s old-age blues fading memory . . . fading body . . . old soul full of spite . . . bare head full of white . . . was this a sign of the end? did i need to say goodbye to my friends? was i going to grow old? was i going to grow as old as mold? i checked my skin for wrinkles i checked my skin for a single crinkle just in case just in case it’s not okay to have your first strand of white hair at thirteen ———- i came across an article about not wasting time how we can be more productive and earn another dime the writer said we should always remember we won’t be living forever we should focus on the life we are leading instead of wallow in self-pity that got me thinking maybe getting white hair isn’t such a big thing why should i wallow in self-pity and be a bore when i could be doing so much more? they say that the day you know you will die is the day you start living for me the day i knew i had white hair was the day i started living it doesn’t matter if you have your first strand of white hair at thirteen Sim Ling Thee, 13Singapore

Scrub the wall to form froth, then coat it with water like the coastline after a wave. Soapy water will slide down to the floorboards. Sit down at the edge of the water, hold your shawl with one hand, and dry the floor. Be careful not to get water in between the tiles. Pull out the brush from the cleaning cart, its drawers tiered like bleachers. By the window, you can see the gardeners trimming the trees below, one of them leaving for a break. The lake to the side reflects the birds flying around in chains, as if trying to clasp the sides of the sky. After cleaning the walls, make sure to put new soap in the tray below. Go inside the corner room to finish today’s breakfast. Soheon Rhee, 12Taguig City, the Philippines