INTRODUCTION Helen Silverstein tried to fight back tears as she sat in the passenger’s seat of her mother’s sleek, blue Dodge. Despite the fact that Olivia Roi Silverstein, her mother, was almost breaking the speed limit, Helen felt that she could never be far enough away from her viola teacher’s house. The woman’s harsh words still rang in her ears: “You need to work on this! It won’t just come to you one day, you know.” Helen had spent…
Search Results for: winter
Alia Waking
Alia Waking by Laura Williams McCaffrey; Clarion Books: New York, 2003; $15 Your lifelong dream dangles before your eyes. You reach for it and almost grasp it, but alas, you still have to watch the baby for your mother and scrub the floors. If there’s extra time in between chores, you might find an opportunity to sneak off for a bit and chase that fantasy. Not that it’s likely you’ll get anywhere at that rate. This scenario is true for…
Rider’s Paradise
The smell of newly cut wafted in through open windows. A grain bucket clanged against a stall door like a dull church bell. A black, velvety nose pressed against the bars of a stall and sweet-smelling grain dribbled from whiskered lips. A bay horse came down the aisle, her hooves tapping a tune on the rough cement. Stalls stretched away on either side and the air was full of the smell of sweet grain and newly polished leather and saddle…
Tripod
Every year at our cottage, we feed corn to the deer. All of the deer look pretty much the same. They all have brown fur that turns gray in the fall, a bright white tail—and four legs. Then Tripod came along. We’d heard rumors about a three-legged deer near the cottage, but it was still a surprise to see her. We were looking out the window when a deer wandered into the yard. “She’s walking funny,” Mom thought out loud….
On the Bridge of Dawn
Every year spring rushes in with a parade of colors, a symphony of sounds and a thrill of smells. Much as I enjoy the pearly sheen and biting chill of winter, it is the morning when I first wake to hear the steady dripping of melting snow, and breathe that moist, fresh smell of thawing earth that pumps wonder through me every year. To me, spring brings optimism, cheer and love of life swirling and hovering around every corner of…
The Last Red Flag
I started out the window, looking onto the surging crowds with sadness and fear. I had always known the revolution might happen—as if my brother, Anton, would ever let us forget. He was always out on the streets, socializing with the revolutionaries, showing me the small red flags he brought home. It seemed he enjoyed upsetting Mama—telling her that since we had a family of aristocrats, we may be targets for the revolutionaries. After we came to stay with Aunt…
In a Moment It Was No More: 1963
“You’re lucky, Spencer. I wish I had a baby brother.” Ten-year-old Spencer Coleman smiled pridefully at his best friend, José Perez, and then down at his month-and-a-half-old brother, Johnny. “I’m glad that he’s a boy,”Spencer whispered. They had to be quiet, or else they’d wake the baby “Now he can’t turn out like Libby.” Liberty, Spencer’s sister, was nearly thirteen years old and as bossy as a mama hen. José grinned. “Two Libertys in your family would be a disaster.”…
Speaking Up
Sometimes think that “if only” must be the two most depressing words in the English language. How many times have you said to yourself, “If only I’d studied harder” or “If only I’d been there five minutes earlier.” If only I’d had the courage to speak up last fall, I wouldn’t be regretting it now. Marion transferred from out of province into our class last September. She had straight dark hair stopping abruptly at chin-length and one of those porcelain…
The Lone Straw Hat
The water. It used to be tranquil. A calm, yet dynamic giant, nourishing the life within. Sometimes its surface churned, purging the muddy banks of debris and stirring up the sediment on the bottom. Other times it was as still as a hot day in August. At these times the mud would settle to the bottom, and the turtles would come to bask on the rocks. The children would run to its edge and catch newts and water bugs. Soon…
Brutal Deluge
I looked through the small window of my new room, watching heavy streams of water galloping through the streets. Fortunately for me, our house was located high on a hill. My parents had run down to try to help the other villagers. Flood season had come. All I could do was stare, and watch in amazement and horror. Waves and waves of powerful water were streaming down the mountains, tearing everything. It was terrible. I lifted my head, seeing the…
