Introduction to this Stone Soup Art Activity For the artist, every workplace is a separate world with its own unique environment of light, sound, smell, and activity, and each picture is a story in line, shape, and maybe color that tells about that special place. The seven-year-old artist from Sri Lanka who painted the picture on the front cover did an excellent job of telling the story of a unique world she has seen, but that we may never see — the world of a tea plantation. Look at how she creates her picture world. She shows us the geography: the hills surrounding the plantation. She shows us the weather: clouds over the hills and a blue sky above. She shows us how the tea plants are arranged in rows, and she shows us the building that is a part of every tea plantation, the building where the tea leaves are sorted, fermented, and prepared for shipping to the world’s tea drinkers. In the middle of this scene she shows us a woman picking tea. She appears to be a young woman and has long hair. She is wearing a blue blouse, a red polka-dotted dress called a sort, and silver bracelets on both wrists. On her back she carries a large basket filled with tea leaves. The basket is undoubtedly heavy and the work is hard. Project 1: Working Outdoors Make a picture of someone working outdoors. You might make a picture of a gardener, a coach for soccer or baseball, someone building a building or working on a road, or a telephone repair crew. Sometimes you may work outdoors too, for instance, if you rake leaves, clear snow, or mow lawns. Through your picture tell as complete a story of the workplace as possible. Tell your story so that someone from another country who doesn’t know anything about the place you live, or about the people who work there, will understand what you have seen. Remember to show what type of clothing the workers are wearing, and, if they are using tools, include them in your picture. Project 2: Working Indoors Make a picture of someone working indoors. That might be someone in an office, or a store, at your school, or in a factory. Or it might be a picture of you or one of your parents working around the house. The interior of a building has a very different feel from a place outside. Instead of the sky, there is a ceiling. Instead of the sun, there are electric lights. Instead of trees and plants growing in the ground, there are (maybe) plants in pots. As with your outdoor picture, remember to show what the people look like, what type of clothes they are wearing, and what tools they use, if any, at their job. Harvesting Tea, by Achinda Siriwardena, age 7, Sri Lanka
Writing Activity: unexpected perspectives, or the other side of the story, with “Blending In” by Jonathan Rosenbaum, 10
Introduction to this Stone Soup Writing Activity In “Blending In,” by Jonathan Rosenbaum, Charlie is at camp where he is teased by Carl and Jeremy, as well as by other campers. Like most stories about teasing, “Blending In” is told from the perspective of the boy or girl who is teased. But what about Carl, Jeremy, and the others? What are they thinking and feeling? In what way do they see Charlie as “different” and why does that make them want to tease him? Project: As a Challenge, Write a Story About Teasing From the Point of View of the Teasers Make your characters as interesting and complex as possible–more than just “good” and “bad” guys. Like a reporter, you can do research for your story. All of us (almost) tease people and most of us have experienced being teased, so you should be able to gather information for your story from many sources. Talk to your friends and family about teasing, and don’t forget to think about your own life and actions. Through your characters’ actions you might want to provide insights into such questions as: How do your characters identify someone who is fun to tease? Do your characters ever plan in advance what they do? Is teasing all fun for your characters or do they sometimes think about their actions afterwards and feel bad about what they have done? Blending In By Jonathan Rosenbaum, 10, Hillel Day School, Oak Park, Michigan Illustrated by the author From the March/April 1985 issue of Stone Soup Dear Mom and Dad, I am having the best time ever at overnight camp. The activities are fun, and the counselors and campers are really great. Don’t forget to write. Love ya! Love, Charlie P.S. Send some candy, please. Preferably licorice. I lay my Erasermate and letter down and plopped onto my cot. Although it wasn’t the big, comfortable bed I have back home, even it seemed good considering my weary condition. I had just returned from a morning softball game followed by clean-up duty in the mess hall so I was really feeling exhausted. I re-read my letter and sighed. Well, two out of three isn’t bad, I thought to myself. The activities at camp are fun: boating, swimming, sports, drama, field trips, arts and crafts. My counselors are great: David is very understanding and Bob is super at sports. But, the campers . . . Sighing again, I stood up and trudged across the rough wooden floor to the bunk bathroom. I looked at myself in the cracked, dirty mirror, and a tear rolled down my cheek. Why couldn’t I write the truth to my parents? I know that they would understand and help make everything all right. Because I love them, though, I didn’t want to break their hearts with my problems. After all, they paid for me to have a good, fun time at camp so how could I send them a letter saying that their dear son, Charlie, is an outsider and a jerk and has no friends. Sighing for the third time, I walked back to my cot and braced myself for the daily matinee performance of “Let’s Irk Charlie.” Sure enough, there was Carl, the “star” of the tragedy, sprawled across my bed, messing up my blankets, sleeping bag, and pillow. He even seemed to have added jumping on my bed to his role. I glared at him, feeling both angry and helpless. I was mad because I knew he was doing this on purpose, fully aware that having my things messed up bothered me. I felt helpless because I knew that if I told him to get off, he’d just call me a nerd and make life more miserable for me, and if I ignored him, my stuff would look like a tornado had hit it. Having no real choice, I reluctantly assumed my part in the unfolding drama. In a strained voice, I said, “Carl, would you please get off my bed?” Carl taunted, “But your bed is more comfortable than mine.” In a voice even more forced, I pleaded, “Come on, Carl! Really! I’m not being mean or anything, but just PLEASE get off my bed!” Again, Carl refused, so, on cue, the dialogue ended and the physical action began. I pulled at Carl, Carl fought back, I pulled again. Finally, only when my bed had become a total disaster, did Carl majestically get off. He looked at me with disgust and hatred in his eyes. “Jeez! Why are you in such a bad mood all the time?” With that, he grandly stamped off to the other guys who had been applauding throughout the entire scene. They all chatted together, totally ignoring me. Intermission lasted until bedtime when the evening performance of “Let’s Irk Charlie” began. This time, Jeremy, another cabinmate, was the star. Every night before Lights Out, Jeremy would bug me to let him read one of my comic books. In a never-ending attempt to be one of the guys, I would lend him one. Within minutes, Jeremy had either dripped toothpaste over the pages, “accidentally” dropped the book into the toilet, or crinkled it up to use as a pretend softball. When I finally got the comic back, it looked like it had been through World War III. I didn’t know who I hated more, Carl, Jeremy, and the guys, or myself. Why do they have to bother me all the time? Why do I have to get so uptight when they jump on my bed or mess up my things? Are they wrong for hurting me the way they do, or am I wrong for being the way I am? Sometimes I feel so disgusted and confused that I even wish that I could stop time, turn back the clock, and do the day over as a totally different person. When I once talked this over with my counselor, David, he suggested that I make a list of everything
Writing and Art Activity: illustrate your own story, with “The Adventures of Pumpkin and Seegartus” by Nicole Schmidt, 9
Introduction to this Stone Soup Writing and Art Activity “The Adventures of Pumpkin and Seegartus” is about a friendship between two animals–a pony, Pumpkin, and a cat, Seegartus–both favorite pets of Mary. The author, Nicole Schmidt, begins her story with the birth of Pumpkin and his capture from a herd of semi-wild horses, and she ends it with an adventure that clearly establishes the depth of Pumpkin and Seegartus’ friendship for each other. “The Adventures of Pumpkin and Seegartus” is illustrated by the author, and the original is bound into a book. The pictures and the text are a unit; together they tell the story. It is always exciting to see a work illustrated by the author. Who better knows the characters and their lives than the author? And what better time to make illustrations for your story than at the time of creation, when the characters and their lives are freshest in your mind? Project: Write and Illustrate a Story Based on Something That Has Happened in Your Own Life You could write about a pet, about a vacation, about your school year, about camp, about a brother or sister, or about anything. Like the author of “The Adventures of Pumpkin and Seegartus,” you will want to give your work a clear beginning and end. Tell your story in both words and drawings. Your word picture and your drawing picture should complement each other. The pictures might, in fact, fill in information that is lacking in the text and make your story more complete. For instance, in words you might say something very general about a character. It might be through the illustration that you more fully show what the character looks like and how he or she dresses. The Adventures of Pumpkin and Seegartus By Nicole Schmidt, 9, West Simsbury, Connecticut Illustrated by the author From the March/April 1985 issue of Stone Soup Early one morning in the Ozarks of Missouri, on May 1, 1965, a Shetland pony was born in an almost wild herd of ponies that were running on a cattle farm. The mother’s name was Jenny and the father stallion’s name was Prince. No one was around. He was just born under a crabapple tree. (It was a hard day for the mother and foal because the curious ponies in the herd kept coming up and trying to sniff the new member.) Later that day, they slowly made their way back to the rest of the herd of Shetlands. As the herd grazed, they covered a great distance. Finally, they came to a gate that had been accidentally left open and passed through it to the back pasture of the next farm. Pretty soon they had made their way up to the barnyard. A little girl came out of the farmhouse and spotted the colt running by its mother’s side. The little girl, whose name was Mary, ran back into the house and said, “Ma, you promised me a pony. You did, you did!” In a soft voice, Ma said, “What pony, Darling?” “The pony that’s outside. A new one, running by its mother’s side.” “It must have been born in the night,” said Ma. “I’ll take a look outside. Oh, those ponies are Mr. Blacker’s, the man who lives on the north side of town. I’ll ask him if he wants to sell it. I’ll ask the neighbors down the road how to get in touch with him. Meanwhile, stay away from them,” the mother warned, as she started down the road to the neighbors’. “The stallion might attack you. They’re wild and we don’t know what they might do.” The mother walked down the road to the neighbors’. The ponies still ran and ate grass. The mother came back and said, “Mr. Blacker said he didn’t know that a pony was born, but we may have him if we can catch him. That’s why our neighbor came with his lasso.” The neighbor went outdoors and whisked his lasso around and around. It took him four or five tries to get them. The neighbor was the biggest man Mary had ever seen. He and his children led the mother and colt into the smaller pasture. The colt and its mother would have to stay there, separated from the rest of the herd, until the colt was old enough to be weaned. Finally, the day came in late summer when the mother could leave her colt. Mary named the colt Pumpkin because his coat was a lovely pumpkin orange. Chapter Two Mary’s father said, “I think we should put the colt in the empty stallion stall tonight because this is the first night the mother and colt are separated, and besides, it looks like it’s going to rain tonight.” Mary and her father put the colt in the stall and tended the rest of the animals. Mary and her father went back to the house. It started raining and big winds came up, so big that the trees and all things were blowing around. Father said, “It’s a tornado! We must all go to the cellar quickly!” Just as they were running to the stairs, the windows of the front side of the house blew in. The tornado had passed before they had reached the cellar. They went outside to see what damage had been done. A big tree had been blown over right in front of their house. All the plums had been blown off the plum tree. Trees had fallen over on top of the house and all the apple trees in the orchard had blown over. The board fence around the pasture had blown over, too. They looked at the barn. It had blown right in. All of the family ran over to it. The stallion’s stall didn’t blow in because it was built so strong. Pumpkin was scared but all right. They had to use a crowbar to open the stall door. Chapter Three The colt had wonderful days on
