Emily Gu, 9 Defeating Covid-19 Together Emily Gu, 9 Purell had always wanted to get this much attention. Before he became the most popular kid in school, he was an unused loner sitting on the counter. Even worse, sometimes he was desperately waiting to be rescued from the dark locker where the big “bully” tossed him away. Even though he was over 99.99% awesome at wiping out germs and disease, the students ignored him. They excluded him because they thought they were tougher than the germs. Therefore, they washed their hands so casually that they only rinsed it a bit. The teacher always tried to make Purell’s classmates give attention to him, but they just wouldn’t listen and kept teasing him about how he was a poor substitute for Washing Hands. Just because Washing Hands had warm water and bubbly soap didn’t mean Purell was useless; he just wasn’t appreciated. Suddenly, thanks to our enemy, Covid-19, Purell became a quick and easy star! Now Purell’s classmates are always fighting for him. On the other hand, Washing Hands couldn’t believe this was happening. He couldn’t ever had imagined being traded for the “used to be,” stupid Purell. But there he was sitting in the smelly bathroom waiting for someone to use him. Washing Hands had dropped down to the last person on the list. Now, whenever Purell’s classmates saw him, they would grab a hold of him and take him away to a secret place as if they were stealing him so they could use Purell for themselves. At the end of the day when the school bell rings, the custodian finds Purell either in the cabinet, in the bathroom, or even in the janitor’s closet! As the days went on Purell got more and more popular. One day, a classmate brought him to the bathroom. He was sitting on the floor when he looked up and saw Washing Hands. Uh oh, he thought.Washing Hands was sitting near the sink offering soap looking very lonely and sad. Purell realized that there was no harm intended this time. Washing Hands was really sad, so Purell walked up to him and said, “Hello Washing Hands. Is everything ok?” Washing Hands didn’t reply; he just shuffled away to a corner as his stomach grumbled. Purell sat down beside him and took out his lunchbox. “Want some of my sandwich? You look quite hungry,” he asked as he offered him half of his sandwich. Washing Hands took it. “Yes, thank you” he said shyly. “You are very welcome!” Purell replied with a smile. Before starting to eat, they traded anti-germ strategies. They each took a bite. Then another and another until their mouths were full of peanut butter and jelly. They grinned from ear to ear with messy hands and became best friends ever since. Now, whenever classmates came to clean their hands, they used both Purell and Washing Hands working together to keep their classmates from getting Covid, and the evil virus was finally defeated.
Saturday Newsletter: October 24, 2020
A note from Jane Do you keep a journal? When I read Talia E. Moyo’s lyrical “Where I’m From,” featured in this week’s newsletter, I wonder if she is someone who keeps a regular journal. I feel as though she has crafted some of the kinds of everyday details one might write in a diary into a beautiful form of narrative poem. She asks and answers profound questions of identity using a myriad of carefully chosen and beautifully arranged details of her life. Each paragraph paints a vivid picture of all the places and people she is “from.” I encourage all of you to read and listen to Talia’s own reading of her work via the links below, and use it as inspiration to write a poetical personal narrative. Try to use tiny details and well-chosen words to reflect on where and what you are from. Alternatively, make this the weekend you decide to start a journal, and start building up a resource to draw on for future writing (or just to enjoy reading in the future, when you have forgotten the details of a wet Tuesday in October 2020!). I am a very irregular journal writer, and for me it’s always a case of all or nothing. I’ll go at it with huge enthusiasm for a while, then just as quickly stop writing anything in it for months on end. Sometimes, writing at least three pages of stream of consciousness is the first thing I do when I wake up in the morning. Even if I think I have nothing to say, I’ll just write that down until something else comes out. Often, it’s a dream I was barely aware I’d had, a memory of the days or years before, or a hidden worry that might have spoiled my morning if I hadn’t got it out onto the page before the new day really began. Other times, I’ll write about the view from the window or the smell of my coffee or the sounds my kitten makes when she wakes me nuzzling and purring. When I look back, as long as I can read my handwriting I find that it gives a little snapshot of the seasons and time passing—as well as a sometimes surprising record of some very peculiar dreams! To encourage all of you in your journaling and note-taking, we have produced a gorgeous new range of writers’ notebooks and artists’ sketchbooks, all available for pre-order now in our online store. We are so excited to share them with you! Each one has the matte finish and soft feel of the print edition of Stone Soup, and all of them feature a different artwork or photograph by a Stone Soup artist on the cover, either on the front or as a wraparound image. There are six different A5 notebooks for writers, with ruled lines on white interior paper (cover choices right and below); two more in the same size, with plain, unlined interior paper in creme, for either writing or drawing (cover choices below); and three larger (8″ x 10″) sketchbooks for artists, with plain white paper (covers above). All of them are 160 pages long, and designed to inspire creativity at all ages! Please consider choosing your favorites and giving them as gifts this holiday season. Every one you purchase supports Stone Soup. To show our appreciation for any pre-orders, you’ll receive 10% off on all of the new designs until the end of this month. Until next time, Highlights from the past week online Don’t miss the latest content from our Book Reviewers and Young Bloggers at Stonesoup.com! In his poem “Together,” Ethan, 10, emphasizes the ways that we have learned to remain connected during this challenging year. Sita, 11, reviewed The Blue Wings by Jef Aerts on the blog this week. She calls the book “a one-of-a-kind moving read.” Alina Ji, 13, made a breathtaking collage honoring the doctor who first alerted authorities about the virus and who died treating people. Have you heard of the book The Count of Monte Cristo by Alexandre Dumas? Grace, 13, writes about why she found the book about revenge so compelling. Chloe, 9, did not expect to enjoy The Long Winter by Laura Ingalls Wilder as much as she did. Read her review to learn why the book is her favorite of the Little House on the Prairie series. Talia E. Moyo, 10Hopewell, NJ From Stone Soup October 2020 Where I’m From By Talia E. Moyo, 10 (Hopewell, NJ) I’m from the hot deserts of Africa, with Sekuru’s delectable, rich mushroom stew, and Mama’s avocado pudding, and the African adventures with waterfalls and dancing in the night with fireflies as night lights. And the red dusty villages of Cameroon, with rains that come almost once every month. And Sekuru’s little straw hut-like chapel, where stories and the Bible are read. The big continent of Europe is where I’m from, with silly, little, annoying, cute, frustrating cousins who follow me everywhere I go. And aunties, who make delicious cake pops and table grill and German sausages and treats and grow mouth-watering fruits that drip down my shirt, and cook everything possible everywhere they go. I’m from Hopewell, New Jersey, with its green luscious forests, and with Lotta, our dog, following my every single step. And seeing her perform a routine of sit, lie down, paw and guess which hand your treat is under. And the soft sandy beaches of the New Jersey shore and their warm grains of sand cushioning my feet under cool water with shells of all shapes, sizes, and colors. Click here to read more—and hear a recording of the author reading her work aloud! Stone Soup is published by Children’s Art Foundation-Stone Soup Inc., a 501(c)(3) educational nonprofit organization registered in the United States of America, EIN: 23-7317498. Stone Soup’s Advisors: Abby Austin, Mike Axelrod, Annabelle Baird, Jem Burch, Evelyn Chen, Juliet Fraser, Zoe Hall, Montanna Harling, Alicia & Joe Havilland, Lara Katz, Rebecca Kilroy, Christine Leishman, Julie Minnis, Jessica Opolko, Tara Prakash, Denise Prata, Logan Roberts, Emily Tarco, Rebecca Ramos Velasquez, Susan Wilky.
Zoom Sagas, creative nonfiction by Stella, 11
Stella, 11 Zoom sagas Stella, 11 “I ain’t never used this alien program!” —Darlene I The only thing my sister could see of her second grade teacher for the whole first week of school was Mrs. Watson’s eyebrows. She couldn’t hear much either. Probably because Mrs. Watson had all twenty-nine kids’ microphones unmuted. So you could hear everything from Aliza’s dad talking about how everyone in the government was spies to Niklish’s mom cooking masala in the background. On the first day of my sister’s first week of second grade, Hana showed up in Mrs. Landis’s fourth grade classroom. Turns out, Mrs. Watson gave her the wrong Zoom link. By the second day, my sister was so bored that instead of listening to Mrs. Watson talk about subtraction, Hana had learned to take screenshots of her friend Lily’s face and edit them. II “Welcome to the Rancho Simi Park and Recreation District board meeting. . .” [ Black screen] “Frank! Frank! Frank, darling! Can they hear me? I can’t see myself! What in Lord’s name is going on! Frank!” “First, I would like to thank everyone for attending. . .” [Black screen] “Frank!” “But could everyone please. . .” “Hi, My name’s Darlene, and this is my first time using this Zoom thing. I’ve never used this futuristic alien program before! It feels like being in outer space!” “Mute their mics. . .” [ Black screen] shhhhhsjkdiskshktisksssssssk weneedskkkkkktosssssavekkkkkkktheshkshAsh treehkdiskhhhhin the park! [Screens freeze] III Mrs. Rozenberg was explaining decimals to the class. Just like she did yesterday. And the day before that. And the day before that. Because learning about how a decimal point represents a whole number and a fraction of the whole number needs to be taught everyday, for two and a half months straight. And about how a decimal point is a point that we use to separate the whole part of a number from the fraction part of the number. We’ve already heard that twelve times. No one can bear to look at the teacher anymore, and two of the students have taken to playing charades in the chat. Then, out of nowhere, Noah’s little brother wanders into the room in nothing but his brightly colored superman boxers. Clueless, unsure of what to do, he shrugs, waves hello, and scurries away from the utterly horrified thirty-eight pairs of eyes staring at him. IV “And to move the aperture. . .” [Freeze] “. . .you need to. . .” [Freeze] “. . .also make sure your elbows. . .” [Freeze] “. . .so your camera doesn’t. . .” [Freeze] “Everyone got that?” [Freeze] “Okay, moving on.” You have lost internet connection.
