Welcome to the Stone Soup Honor Roll! We receive hundreds of submissions every month by kids from around the world. Unfortunately, we can’t publish all the great work we receive. So we created the Stone Soup Honor Roll. We commend all of these talented writers and artists and encourage them to keep creating. – The Editors Scroll down to see all the names (alphabetical by section), including book reviewers and artists. ART Stephanie Kim, 9 Chloe Mancini, 9 Mackenzie Reese, 13 STORIES Jodie Chan, 13 Enni Harlan, 13 Raya Ilieva, 10 Kyler Min, 9 Uma Nambiar, 13 Anthony Qian, 10 Julia Stilley, 12 Elodie Weinzierl, 11 Lucy Wu, 8 POETRY Stephanie Kim, 9 Yihua Liu, 10 Iris Sullivan, 9
January 2021
The Swan
With soft white feathers that look like ruffled velvet, The gorgeous swan soars through the lake Like other birds soar through the sky. Fresh, clean water laps at the creature’s breast. The swan is utterly serene. The serenity escapes the bird’s majestic body. It fills the lake. It becomes the lake. All is well. Gabe Horowitz, 10Chevy Chase, MD
The Famous Painting
Lotus is not a famous painter, but she hopes her latest painting will change that The sky was gray, and the sun was blocked by clouds and by fog, layer upon layer. Young Lotus sat in her studio. She was a painter, but she was not famous. Lotus was cleaning the house. There was not much good furniture in her home, and her studio was very shabby. The interior decorations were khaki-colored. Her husband, Joe Fellow, had gone out early to attend a friend’s wedding. Why wasn’t Lotus there? Oh, my friend, only the upper class can participate in such a solemn and gorgeous wedding! Lotus had sold her wedding dress that year. In addition, she didn’t have any gorgeous clothes. Naturally, she could not be regarded as upper class and so was not qualified to go to the event. Joe still had a lot of suits, so he could often appear at major celebrations and superior events. As Lotus swept up the dust, she opened the curtains. The city, Société, was outside the window. The people were beautiful in this city, and Fellow, which means friendly and social, was a common name there. * * * “Near Banbridge town, in the County Down, one morning last July,” a folk singer sang at the wedding ceremony, though he didn’t seem to get much praise. Suddenly, a man stood up and grabbed the singer. “Stop!” The man said. “S-Sir, I am performing for free for you all . . .” The singer was terrified. The man slapped the singer on his face and said, “What on earth are you singing about? And what are you wearing?! It’s disgusting!” The man pointed at the singer. It was true that the singer’s dress was not too formal, but it was not ugly. “Sing . . . sing . . . sing this!” the man said and smashed the singer’s guitar. “Wait! That’s my instrument, my property!” The singer was angry and desperate. A good guitar would take him about half a year to save for. “Guards!” At the man’s command, several security guards dragged the singer out. “Brute! I—” the singer’s fury was stopped by a punch from the security guard. Then the symphony orchestra started to play, and people listened with great interest, occasionally exclaiming, “This is the music of gentlemen!” The wedding proceeded methodically. * * * Lotus painted at home. A bird landed on her window howling, and the flowers bloomed in the yard. She would soon create a painting. Soft lines and harmonious colors would make up the beautiful painting. Dusk was coming. The evening wind gently touched everything. Although it was autumn, Lotus seemed filled by the bright warmth of spring. Her pace was light and pleasant, and she took great delight in everything. “Dear, I’m back.” Joe pushed the door open and took off his coat. “How was the wedding today, Joe?” “Great, Lotus.” “When can we have such a wedding, Joe? I really wish we could have another wedding celebration. It was too short last time. Maybe for our golden anniversary?” “No point. We don’t have that kind of money.” “Well, if that’s what you say.” Lotus’s spirits were broken. “Joe, you must go to work.” Lotus looked very sad as she spoke. “You! Don’t bother me!” Joe’s face changed greatly—the wrinkles on his face became more pronounced, and the shadows on his face also deepened. The night was shrouded like a layer of cages, trapping people’s hearts. Lotus was crying and walking. Her steps tottered and her body wobbled. After two steps, she sat down by the roadside and covered her face. “If you don’t want to make money, can you sell your suit? Then at least we can buy paint and I can make money by painting,” said Lotus in a lower and lower voice. “Woman! What do you know?! How am I supposed to get into upper society without this suit?!” cried Joe to Lotus. “You only know idleness!” Lotus shouted, unable to hold back her anger. But she didn’t dare do anything else and started crying. “If you want money, sell your ruined paintings!” Joe scolded Lotus angrily, and then he dragged Lotus and her painting outside. “Go! Go!” Lotus was pushed out of the door by Joe. * * * The night was shrouded like a layer of cages, trapping people’s hearts. Lotus was crying and walking. Her steps tottered and her body wobbled. After two steps, she sat down by the roadside and covered her face. The beauty of love comes from instinct. The tragedy of love comes from instinct too. Instinct, however, can never be explained. She began to regret it, but it was too late. Time ran too fast, and regret came too late. She was no longer a young, beautiful girl. A thin man in a white suit came over. “Oh, lovely lady, what’s wrong with you?” This man was Kopil, the most famous painter in the city. Lotus whispered what had happened to her. Kopil looked at Lotus’s painting. “Ah, this is so beautiful! Can I buy it?” “Sir, this painting costs a hundred dollars.” “No, this painting is bound to be a famous painting.” With that said, Kopil took out $300 from his bag. “Thank you, sir,” Lotus said, clutching at her skirt. Her tears still streamed down her face. On her way home, her steps were trembling and her body was shaking. She didn’t want to go back, but where else could she go? At home, Lotus put the money on the table and cried again. “Shut your mouth! You only know how to cry!” Joe roared. Lotus cried harder than ever. * * * One afternoon a few days later, it was still grey, and there were no more sounds