Stone Soup Magazine for young readers, writers, and artists

Saturday Newsletter: January 8, 2022

Magnolias at Midnight, Acrylic | Shaivi Moparthi, 11 (Sugarland, TX), published in Stone Soup January 2022 A note from Caleb Hello and happy second Saturday of 2022! In exactly two weeks’ time, we will be beginning our Winter 2022 session of Saturday classes. As was the case last session, our founder, William Rubel, will be teaching his writing workshop on Saturdays at 9:00 am Pacific, Conner Bassett will be teaching his writing workshop on Saturdays at 11:00 am Pacific, and Isidore Bethel will be teaching his introduction to short-form filmmaking class on Saturdays at 9:00 am Pacific. We are also excited to announce that Maya Mahony, an MFA student in fiction at the Iowa Writers’ Workshop, will be taking over Book Club in place of Laura Moran, who will be spending more time on the Stone Soup Refugee Project! Book Club will continue to take place the last Saturday of each month at 9:00 am Pacific. Both Avery DiBella’s stunning poem “The Moon” and Shaivi Moparthi’s breathtaking acrylic Magnolias at Midnight concern themselves with the moon’s magic. Every line in Avery’s poem begins with “The moon”; at the center of Shaivi’s painting is a bright, shining moon, and, at first glance, it would seem both works are concerned with singing its praises. But, there is a sense of foreboding at play, lurking beneath the surface. Take the fourth line of Avery’s poem: “The moon/ is too/ Bright/ That in the/ Gorgeous/ Night/ I dream about/ The moon.” I’ve emboldened the “too” because it is this word choice that changes the entire meaning of the poem. In essence, the moon’s brightness is so dominant that its beauty takes precedence over the “gorgeous night” and the speaker’s dreams. Without that “too,” the poem’s final line, “The moon/ Feels like/ My pillow/ When I myself/ Am/ Sound asleep,” might only denote how the moon “soothes” the speaker. Instead, the line takes on an eerie significance; in all its dominance, the moon has become so ubiquitous, so inescapable that its presence is felt in the inherently unfelt: the pillow beneath a sound sleeper. In Shaivi’s painting, the magnolias are beautiful; it is their pink color that accents the image. In a literal sense, they take up more space than the moon. The painting is even titled Magnolias at Midnight. And yet, the moon—this bright, shining, floating orb—steals the viewer’s attention. After looking away from the painting, the moon is what remains, seamlessly imprinted like Avery’s pillow beneath a sound sleeper. Shaivi’s painting also reminds me of a famous quote from Shakespeare’s Timon of Athens, which would go on to inspire Nabokov’s Pale Fire: “The moon’s an arrant thief, And her pale fire she snatches from the sun.” So, thinking about how Avery’s poem and Shaivi’s painting indirectly take issue with the moon’s dominance, this weekend I’d like you to think about something in your life that is beautiful, marvelous, breathtaking, but for whatever reason rubs you the wrong way. Then, write what appears to be an ode singing the praises of this object, but, perhaps with the help of just a few words, in reality highlights your sense of unease. As always, if you like what you’ve written or created, we would love for you to share and submit it to us via Submittable! Till next time, Avery DiBella, 10 Salem, NH From Stone Soup January 2022 The Moon By Avery DiBella, 10 (Salem, NH) The moon Shines as bright As the stars In the glimmering So glimmering Night sky. The moon Soothes Me In my sleep. The moon Is soaking With new Dreams That can Be discovered… Continue reading “The Moon” here… Stone Soup is published by Children’s Art Foundation-Stone Soup Inc., a 501(c)(3) educational nonprofit organization registered in the United States of America, EIN: 23-7317498. Stone Soup’s advisors: Abby Austin, Mike Axelrod, Annabelle Baird, Jem Burch, Evelyn Chen, Juliet Fraser, Zoe Hall, Montanna Harling, Alicia & Joe Havilland, Lara Katz, Rebecca Kilroy, Christine Leishman, Julie Minnis, Jessica Opolko, Tara Prakash, Denise Prata, Logan Roberts, Emily Tarco, Rebecca Ramos Velasquez, Susan Wilky.

A Birthday Cake in a Pandemic, a personal narrative by Olivia, 10

A Birthday Cake in a Pandemic Olivia Ren, 10 I was wandering around my house, not doing anything in particular, just walking around. It was March 16, 2020, and my mom, dad, little sister, and I were trying to adjust to a new life due to COVID-19. By “new life,” I mean a totally different lifestyle. I needed to go to school on my computer at nine, and finish the work that was posted on my Google Classroom by one, and then go and watch my sister for my parents because they were busy with their work. Things were difficult, but there was an even more important issue for us: in one day, it would be my mom’s birthday. During one of my virtual school breaks, I had overheard my parents talking upstairs. They weren’t talking with any of their colleagues, only each other. This was not regular. I was so curious that I forgot to stay quiet, and ran to their room. They were so concentrated on talking that they didn’t hear my loud footsteps on our creaky floor. My dad sighed. “I guess we can’t get a birthday cake for you this year.” I couldn’t bear to listen to my parents talk about my mom’s birthday anymore. How could I just stand there watching my mom’s birthday pass by without cake? I was determined to make my mom’s birthday special. I felt thankful that I had a mom who cared about my birthday, and I wanted her to feel the same. But what could I do? Then…a lightbulb appeared in my head. Yogurt could save the day. *** It was my mom’s birthday, and I tiptoed down the stairs. I ripped open our refrigerator looking for the yogurt. My whole family was doing their own things. Emily, my sister, was making a card for my mom. My parents were sleeping. I stacked slices of breakfast bread on top of each other and slathered them with yogurt to glue them together. Then I drizzled some of the yogurt frosting over my creation. I scanned our fridge, plucked out all the other ingredients I needed. I soon had a problem, though. My yogurt frosting was way too solid. I thought of water right away, but I didn’t even try to imagine what my creation would taste like if I stirred water into my strawberry yogurt. Then I thought of milk. My sister mixed milk and yogurt all the time and it tasted… well, great! So, I went with milk stirred with yogurt. Nah. It was too watery. I didn’t want to bring my mom a disgusting and soggy piece of nothing. It needed to be a little bit stickier. I brainstormed what was sticky. Glue! Well, we couldn’t eat glue. That would be careless. Then I thought of syrup and honey! Syrup made it cloggy, honey made it clear, but it wasn’t half as sweet as I wanted it to be. So, I sprinkled some sugar to make it sweeter. It took much longer than I expected, but I kept working on my mom’s cake, not allowing anything to stop me! After a few hours, it was time for my mom’s birthday celebration. “Happy Birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear mo-om, happy birthday to you.” I sang the loudest! My mom made her wish, and then it was cake time! I got my cake, and carefully placed it onto the dining table. “Wow! That looks beautiful…” My mom said, tearing up with happiness. “I hope you like it!” I told her. “I ran into some problems, but it should still taste good.” “It’s fine! I absolutely love it! I am so proud of you!” Mom sniffled. She hugged me. I hugged her right back and smiled. “Thanks! I felt that every birthday needed a cake, even in a pandemic.” I felt proud, emotional, and happy at the same time. I just loved to make my mom feel happy. “Yeah, I agree! Good job Olivia! I think you just made Mom’s day!” Dad told me. That night, I went to bed feeling amazed by the power of determination. Even during tough times, there is always some way to make others feel special. My goal to get my mom a birthday cake during a pandemic was achieved, and even better, it helped make my mom feel appreciated. This is the true way to spread thoughtfulness during hard times.