For the longest time, I left Love & Gelato by Jenna Evans Welch on my to-read shelf like an ice cream cone in the summer sun. It was too frilly, I reasoned. Too generic. Next to the plethora of suspenseful dystopian and fantasy novels I had yet to read, Love & Gelato didn’t seem like it would be worth my time. But that’s when my friends began to pelt me with book recommendations, a primary one being this book. I was skeptical, but curious. Would it really live up to the hype? In the end, I decided to borrow the novel from my local library just for laughs. Boy, oh boy. Maybe my pediatrician wasn’t ever going to recommend I eat gelato left and right, but this book was exactly what the doctor ordered. In Love & Gelato, the stage is set in Tuscany, Italy, where seventeen-year-old Lina Emerson is on a visit. Under different circumstances, Lina would immediately fall in love with Italy’s shimmering waters, quaint villages, and captivating artwork, but she’s only there to satisfy her mother’s dying wish for her to meet her long-lost father, Howard. Even though Howard tries to make Lina feel comfortable, Lina simply can’t accept him back into her life so quickly. After all, if he really cared, he would have contacted her earlier. Does he really think he can enter the picture sixteen years later without any hard feelings? Then Lina is given the journal her mother kept when she lived in Italy years ago. Suddenly, Lina is reading about bakeries, artwork, and secrets that she’s never known about before. In fact, the diary starts out with the cryptic message, I made the wrong choice, which leaves Lina to ponder: What was this bad decision? Curious for answers, Lina decides to go from city to city with her charming new friend, Ren. At the same time, she deals with family drama and troubles of the heart. The highlights of Italy may be love and gelato, but there is much more to this country than meets the eye. If nothing else, Love & Gelato is incredibly delightful to read! It has just the right balance of character development, suspense, romance, and humor. Lina is a sarcastic, food-loving narrator who sometimes makes rash decisions, but is really just trying to navigate the volatile waters of adolescence: friendship, family, and relationships, just to name a few. The descriptions of Italy are a cinematic experience—the view of Florence is detailed as “a sea of red rooftops under an unblemished blue sky and soft green hills circling everything like a big, happy hug.” I mean, come on; if that doesn’t give you warm fuzzies, I don’t know what will. And don’t even get me started on the food. After this, I’m getting the milk and cream out to make my very own stracciatella gelato! The plot only complements the adorable writing style. The premise of Love & Gelato is very unique and interesting, and it’s highly enjoyable getting to read Lina’s mother’s diary entries and to see Italy from a different point of view. Though the story is mostly predictable, there are some minor twists I didn’t expect. This is one of those books that I don’t mind being predictable, just because it is so fun to read. After reading so many hard-hitting books that often left me feeling pessimistic and despondent, Jenna Evans Welch’s bestselling debut novel gave me the truckful of sweetness I needed, all served with a tangy side of mystery. If you are looking for your next lighthearted summer read, your search is over—Love & Gelato will not disappoint! Love and Gelato by Jenna Evans Welch. Simon and Schuster Books for Young Readers, 2017. Buy the book here and support Stone Soup in the process!
The Roots of Our Peace, by Meleah Goldman, 10
Meleah Goldman, 10 (Oakland, CA) The Roots of Our Peace Meleah Goldman, 10 When I think of peace, I look to nature. I have spent so much time during this pandemic looking outside of my large, clear window. In the background, I can hear the worldwide marches of Black Lives Matter on my television. While our fellow humans are fighting for basic peace, my window shows me endless examples of how different parts of nature work together, each tiny gear depending on peace and cooperation within their differences. Peace is the blueness of the sky being different from the purple of the flowers and the green of the sea, yet they all work together. Peace is accepting the rich history and memories inside the roots of the many different trees. Like humans, they long to break through the heavy sameness of the concrete that coats the streets of every town and city. Peace is not walking the streets of earth, worrying if you are safe because of your roots or the color of your skin. No. Peace is finally breaking up the concrete, releasing the long-covered wild roots and allowing them to color our world. Why should nature be better at creating equality and peace than our own human race? Our sun beats down its warmth freely and equally; it leaves no one in the shadows. So why should anyone shine their rays of discrimination on the faces of our beautiful human race? Peace is not found in a shattered mirror; a dangerous, broken glass, holding only reflections of people who look and act the same. No. Peace is an infinite sky, where the possibilities are limitless. Peace is you and me, together in our humanness, celebrating the power of our garden of roots.
The Sky’s the Limit, a personal narrative by Jaslyn Kwan, 12
Jaslyn Kwan, 12 (Palo Alto, CA) The Sky’s the Limit Jaslyn Kwan, 12 Goodbye San Francisco, hello Tampa! Ever since COVID-19 started, I had been stuck at home along with everyone else. Being able to finally travel to places other than the local grocery store gave me a feeling of freedom. I was heading off to compete in the United States (US) Finals for the prestigious ballet competition, Youth America Grand Prix (YAGP). Excited, I made a long packing list as soon as I got the invitation and started gathering items daily – casual tops and leggings, toothbrush, hair accessories, shoes, makeup, a dress for the award ceremony, etc. Not until the day of departure did I realize that I still hadn’t packed everything! I ended up rushing to finish ten minutes before we left for the airport. I was throwing everything into my bright yellow suitcase, triple-checking my long checklist, wondering why I didn’t do this earlier, and before we knew it, we were off. When we boarded onto the plane, it dawned on me how I would be staring at the back of a seat during the whole flight, unable to move left or right, the whole time getting squished. Gazing at my phone for what seemed like hours, bored out of my mind, I came to wonder why time crawled so slowly. After a few dreadful hours, I finally got comfortable in my seat. Looking out the window, the sky was filled with fluffy clouds – they looked as if they were meant to be danced on. The golden sun was about to set, colorful brush strokes painted across the sky – at last, everything was perfect. I felt so refreshed when I stood up for the first time in 5 hours. Thrilled to see my friends, I jumped into a taxi as fast as I could – hotel, here I come! After meeting up with my friends in the hotel lobby, my mom and I went to the 6th floor. The second we stepped foot into our room, we looked around only to see that the ground was dirty, the room was smaller than expected, and a COCKROACH was on my bed! Having a phobia of bugs, I screamed so loud that I didn’t even hear my mom shushing me. I woke up from my first night only to feel an annoying itch on my thumb. That’s when I saw 3 huge bright red bug bites on the bottom of my thumb! I hated this hotel more than ever and just wanted to get out as fast as possible. Tiptoeing around the dirty floor, I got ready for my dance, and fled the room for a warm-up class. At the end, I came to realize that my mom had already packed up all our belongings and moved to another hotel! When I saw our new room for the first time, I couldn’t believe my eyes. Everything about it was pristine: the furniture was clean as a whistle, the carpet nicely vacuumed, the mattress as white as snow, and no dust anywhere. I felt like the most fortunate girl in the world. The day of competitions and master classes finally arrived. Jaslyn at the YAGP Finals After a light breakfast, focused and determined, I started intensely stretching and conditioning for the upcoming events. In the class, I glanced around and saw so many gifted girls from all around the US in the room. I have to work even harder than these girls to make an impression, I thought. Squeezing my muscles, I did the first plié (bending my knees) as the professional photographer came up to me, attempting to find the right angle for a photo. Looking straight and smiling, I tried my best to hold in my excitement. I was also hoping that the one judge in the room could see me and notice how hard I was working. After a long but exhilarating class, I was pumped to go on stage – the big moment. Backstage, there were several heavy black curtains hung from the ceiling, a little table with a lonely lamp, and a tall slender woman in all black – black shirt, pants, microphone, and clipboard. I figured she was the stage manager. I gave her my number for my dance, and off I went for Open Stage, a time to practice on the real stage. Marking my grande jeté (a split jump), I was surrounded by all these talented girls rehearsing quadruple pirouettes, high arabesques, and such crazy jumps. I couldn’t help but think, “What if I do bad? What if I fall?” I didn’t know what to expect – anything could happen. Even though you may not get the best placement, it only matters that you tried your best, I thought, trying to reassure myself. Jaslyn performing Soon enough, it was time to perform. Dressed in my rhinestone-embellished all white tutu with a cream scarf covering my arms, I laced my pointe shoes and immersed myself into a shadow – the character of my variation, La Bayadere. As I danced, I felt like I was flying on the clouds I saw earlier on the plane. It was like nothing could stop me – not even a little stumble. Gliding down the last diagonal of relevés (rising onto pointe), I was so excited and relieved to hit my last pose. Bowing to the audience’s applause felt like a weight had just been lifted off my shoulders. Then came the most intense part of this experience; it was time to see if I made it into the final round of competitions. I sat on the bed at 10pm into the night, exhausted, staring at my mom’s computer screen, butterflies flying in my stomach. The anticipation was killing me. All sorts of emotions kicked in as the final scores were about to come out. Soon, however, I couldn’t wait any longer and dozed off on my mom’s shoulder. That night, I dreamt about
