Introduction to this Stone Soup Writing and Art Activity An island of one’s own… fields and forests and streams… a well-stocked kitchen with stove and refrigerator… riding bareback on a stallion, powerful yet gentle leader of a band of horses… and best of all, three months alone during a beautiful summer to enjoy it all. For those who love horses, nature, and independence, Christy’s story describes the most wonderful of dreams. If you ask yourself, how original is this wonderful dream, I think you might say, not very. But originality of plot is only one feature that indicates whether a story reflects an author’s thoughts and experiences. Also important are the ways an author develops the plot—the accuracy and strength of the descriptions, the complexity of the characters, the truth with which characters are shown to act and to experience feelings. Judged by these standards, Christy did a terrific job, and through the care she took in writing this story, she succeeded in transforming a fantasy of a perfect summer into an original and interesting tale. Project: Making Your Dream Vacation Real Summer vacation is coming soon (or maybe just over). You may not be able to make your dream of the perfect vacation become a reality in real life, but, through the magic of words, you can create a story that will make it real. Christy does this with her story. In addition to accurate and moving descriptions of places and feelings and riding technique, she ties her fairy-tale island life to real things we don’t expect to read about in a pure fantasy. For instance, she discusses how much the island cost and where the money came from. Her parents, though not present in the dream vacation, stay in touch and do such useful things as provide electricity and food. Your dream vacation may be similar to Christy’s or very different. But whatever it is, unique or very common, do your best to include observations and feelings drawn from the world around you so that a stranger who reads your story will say, “Wow, what a lucky child that was to have such a wonderful summer.” Princess and the Island Stallion By Christina Lynn Myers, 11, Peoria, Arizona Illustrated by Heidi Hanson, 13, Florida, New York From the May/June 1986 issue of Stone Soup I could hear the hoofbeats of Princess as we galloped along. The cool air of the morning hit my face. The island made a perfect arena, yet the trees and bushes were the only spectators of a finely made running horse and its rider. I was very content to be with my horse. The island we were on was where I lived in the summer. It was fun to be here, and I looked forward to coming here every summer. Not many people knew about this island, and those who did never came. It was where Princess and a small band of beautiful horses lived. Since no one had ever wanted it, my parents had agreed to buy it for me, and I would slowly pay them back. They had bought it for only a small sum of money. The island was very beautiful, with green grass everywhere, trees, though not too many, and quite a few flowers. It also had streams, waterfalls, pools, and a very beautiful large pond. I sat back, and Princess obediently slowed down at my signal. We reached a stream I knew well, and Princess splashed through it with no hesitation. I rode bareback, with no bridle. I guided the powerful horse under me with legs, hands, and voice only. I pulled Princess to a walk as we neared the band of horses. The stallion gave a loud, shrill neigh at the approach of one of his mares. Princess snorted and sidestepped lightly. I put a hand on her neck and spoke softly. Then, I gently slid off. I laid my hand on her neck and then let her go. Quickly she ran back to her band, whinnying to me as she went. I watched Princess until she had settled down and begun to graze, and then, smiling, I turned toward my small cabin. I never felt crowded in it. It just seemed perfect. It had a small kitchen with a stove, oven, and a refrigerator. My parents had electricity brought to my cabin underground. It also had a table on which to eat. The table had a large window in front of it so that I could look out at the island, and often I would get a glimpse of grazing horses. The cabin’s other room held my bed, dresser, clothes, and a few other things. When I reached the cabin, I unpacked my clothes, for I had gotten to the island only that morning, and I had immediately gone out to see Princess. Later, I went out to watch the band of horses. I spotted different horses and found all the ones I knew, as well as several new foals. Then my gaze turned to the stallion. He was scarlet red, his coat a satiny sheen of elegance. He was extremely tall, although his long legs seemed almost delicate at times. His head was the head of a beautiful Arabian, small and finely shaped, also having the dished nose of an Arabian. But even with all those Arabian characteristics, he was too big to be pure Arabian. His whole body was the picture of complete grace, beauty, and power. I was now friends with the stallion; he knew me well. I had not ridden him, but I was someday going to try. Suddenly I thought, why someday? Why not today? What are you waiting for? You know he has complete confidence in you. So I decided to give it a try. That afternoon, I set out to find the band. It was not hard, for I knew their favorite pastures well. The stallion had learned to come at my call, so I whistled. An answering whistle came
Homeschooling
Art Activity: imagining new worlds with ‘Planet With Five Suns’, by Vika Sycheva, 8
Introduction to this Stone Soup Art Activity Russia is a country with a rich tradition of folk stories and fantasy. Some of this wonderful tradition is reflected in this beautiful painting by Vika Sycheva, 8, where colorful birds and an eight-legged animal walk on a planet with five suns. This is a world from fairy tales, dreams, ballet. A world of rich fantasy. Let your imagination roam free when you look at this picture. You might even want to make up a story about it. Where are the birds going? And the red animal with all those legs—what is it? Are those flowers in its mouth? Are they a gift? And if so, for whom? Project: An Imaginary Planet Imagine a world where the sky is very different from ours—maybe there are five suns or eight moons. Maybe the sky is red rather than blue, and the moon purple rather than white. Perhaps the stars are all different shapes and colors, and a ring, like Saturn’s, crosses the sky. Create on paper a world with a fantastic sky. And create fantastic animals to match the sky—animals that are doing something, like dancing, playing, jumping, or running. I’d advise using paint, pastels, oil pastels, crayon, colored pencils or felt pens for this picture. If you use pastels or oil pastels, it can be effective to draw your picture on colored paper. And remember, like Vika Sycheva, to use the entire page and all the space on it to tell in shape and color the story of this imaginary planet with its wonderful sky and exotic animals. From the September/October 1986 issue of Stone Soup Planet With Five Suns, by Vika Sycheva, age 8, Soviet Union
Writing Activity: revealing character through problems with “As Long as We’re Happy (part 1)” by Clea Rivera, 14
Introduction to this Stone Soup Writing Activity Here you find Part One of Clea’s story. In a separate activity, we’ll offer the second part. The main story, or plot, is about a teachers called Mrs. Davids, though there is a second story, something we call a subplot, about a little girl, Flora Pinecrust. Mrs. Davids has a problem, and the main subject of “As Long as We’re Happy” is how she deals with this problem. In Part One of the story Mrs. Davids isn’t very happy at all. She seems to have no friends, and her husband has left her, apparently with little or no warning. While Mrs. Davids tries to cope with her problems, she has nobody to talk to, and it turns out that she can’t help herself very well. We see her become a moody, mean person, lacking self-control and unable to deal politely with her students. A problem or crisis is a common beginning point for storytellers and novelists. I think that is because it is through showing how a character deals with a problem that storytellers and novelists can most easily reveal the complete personality of their character. In “As Long as We’re Happy” the main difficulty Mrs. Davids has to struggle with is really herself, her loneliness, her own inability to keep control of her emotions. This is not an “action” or “adventure” story where the problem to be overcome is something in the outside world, like a mountain to be climbed, or a horse to be broken in. It is more of a quiet “psychological” story where the struggle takes place in a person’s heart and soul. Project: A Character With a Problem I want you to write a story in which you reveal the personality of your character by showing how that character responds to a personal crisis or problem. The important word here is “showing.” Clea reveals the personalities of her characters by showing us what they do or say in little scenes. Each of the scenes is like a little play. You might, in fact, try performing selected parts of it, like Clea does in the scene where Mrs. Davids first meets Flora, or a classroom scene, or the meeting between Mrs. Davids and the principal. I’d like to see you write your story so that with only a little extra work a group of people could enact the story. If you have a video camera you could also make all or part of your story into a movie. As Long As We’re Happy By Clea Rivera, 14, Hightstown, New Jersey Illustrated by the author From the September/October 1986 Issue of Stone Soup I was a proud woman on my first day teaching at the elementary school. I was trying to be the typical teacher. I brought a shiny red apple and placed it on my desk. I wore a stiff black skirt and high-collared white blouse and did a fine job of commanding my third grade class to work. I held the white, dusty chalk firmly and wrote neatly on the blackboard in ridiculously large letters. I was also very happy, for I was engaged to a handsome doctor about ten years older than me. Every afternoon he’d spin me off in his little racy car or he’d sometimes take me out to dinner. “Boys and girls, who can tell me what five times five is?” I asked that first day. Several rowdy boys and a few girls began shouting answers. However, one girl raised her hand. “Twenty-five,” she answered. “Very good. What is your name?” “Grace Matthews.” “Everyone, did you see how polite Grace was?” The room was quiet. “Have I gone deaf?” I asked. Finally, the children assented that Grace had been polite and they promised to be that way, too, in the future. * * * Three years later I was promoted to teach the sixth grade, therefore switching from the elementary to the junior high school. I was married now and I had the same batch of children that I had in third grade. I sometimes found it a little hard to hold a job now. I made all the meals and did all the cleaning at home. My husband, the doctor, didn’t help much. But I was more experienced and didn’t put on such airs as I did when I first became a teacher. The next summer my husband deserted me. He took our car with him. I was left with very little money and I felt miserable. Walking along on the first day of school I saw a thin, scraggly child blocking the sidewalk. I tried to pass her, but suddenly she fell into stride a few paces in front of me. Before I knew it she turned around abruptly and bumped into me. “Make up your mind,” I told her, “which way you want to go!” I meant it as a joke, but it came out in an annoyed, high-pitched voice which wasn’t mine. The girl evidently decided to go in the opposite direction and I felt guilty for having spoken harshly to her. I decided to be very kind to my class if I was capable of it. I had been promoted to the seventh grade still with the same bunch of pupils. They were my favorites. Grace Matthews could write like a poet, and Peter Tyner was excellent in math. I had nicknamed him Calculator. Anyway, I walked into the room and their radiant faces made me feel so much better. “Hi, Mrs. Davids!” cried Peter. “How is the old Calculator?” I asked, grinning. Grace came up to my desk very discreetly as if she had a secret. “Mrs. Davids, would you like to read my novel?” she asked softly. “Your novel?!” I cried. “Over the summer I wrote a novel and I’d like you to criticize it,” she said. “I’d be glad to.” She giggled happily and went to talk with her friends. After some time I was
