Jaslyn Kwan, 12 (Palo Alto, CA) The Sky’s the Limit Jaslyn Kwan, 12 Goodbye San Francisco, hello Tampa! Ever since COVID-19 started, I had been stuck at home along with everyone else. Being able to finally travel to places other than the local grocery store gave me a feeling of freedom. I was heading off to compete in the United States (US) Finals for the prestigious ballet competition, Youth America Grand Prix (YAGP). Excited, I made a long packing list as soon as I got the invitation and started gathering items daily – casual tops and leggings, toothbrush, hair accessories, shoes, makeup, a dress for the award ceremony, etc. Not until the day of departure did I realize that I still hadn’t packed everything! I ended up rushing to finish ten minutes before we left for the airport. I was throwing everything into my bright yellow suitcase, triple-checking my long checklist, wondering why I didn’t do this earlier, and before we knew it, we were off. When we boarded onto the plane, it dawned on me how I would be staring at the back of a seat during the whole flight, unable to move left or right, the whole time getting squished. Gazing at my phone for what seemed like hours, bored out of my mind, I came to wonder why time crawled so slowly. After a few dreadful hours, I finally got comfortable in my seat. Looking out the window, the sky was filled with fluffy clouds – they looked as if they were meant to be danced on. The golden sun was about to set, colorful brush strokes painted across the sky – at last, everything was perfect. I felt so refreshed when I stood up for the first time in 5 hours. Thrilled to see my friends, I jumped into a taxi as fast as I could – hotel, here I come! After meeting up with my friends in the hotel lobby, my mom and I went to the 6th floor. The second we stepped foot into our room, we looked around only to see that the ground was dirty, the room was smaller than expected, and a COCKROACH was on my bed! Having a phobia of bugs, I screamed so loud that I didn’t even hear my mom shushing me. I woke up from my first night only to feel an annoying itch on my thumb. That’s when I saw 3 huge bright red bug bites on the bottom of my thumb! I hated this hotel more than ever and just wanted to get out as fast as possible. Tiptoeing around the dirty floor, I got ready for my dance, and fled the room for a warm-up class. At the end, I came to realize that my mom had already packed up all our belongings and moved to another hotel! When I saw our new room for the first time, I couldn’t believe my eyes. Everything about it was pristine: the furniture was clean as a whistle, the carpet nicely vacuumed, the mattress as white as snow, and no dust anywhere. I felt like the most fortunate girl in the world. The day of competitions and master classes finally arrived. Jaslyn at the YAGP Finals After a light breakfast, focused and determined, I started intensely stretching and conditioning for the upcoming events. In the class, I glanced around and saw so many gifted girls from all around the US in the room. I have to work even harder than these girls to make an impression, I thought. Squeezing my muscles, I did the first plié (bending my knees) as the professional photographer came up to me, attempting to find the right angle for a photo. Looking straight and smiling, I tried my best to hold in my excitement. I was also hoping that the one judge in the room could see me and notice how hard I was working. After a long but exhilarating class, I was pumped to go on stage – the big moment. Backstage, there were several heavy black curtains hung from the ceiling, a little table with a lonely lamp, and a tall slender woman in all black – black shirt, pants, microphone, and clipboard. I figured she was the stage manager. I gave her my number for my dance, and off I went for Open Stage, a time to practice on the real stage. Marking my grande jeté (a split jump), I was surrounded by all these talented girls rehearsing quadruple pirouettes, high arabesques, and such crazy jumps. I couldn’t help but think, “What if I do bad? What if I fall?” I didn’t know what to expect – anything could happen. Even though you may not get the best placement, it only matters that you tried your best, I thought, trying to reassure myself. Jaslyn performing Soon enough, it was time to perform. Dressed in my rhinestone-embellished all white tutu with a cream scarf covering my arms, I laced my pointe shoes and immersed myself into a shadow – the character of my variation, La Bayadere. As I danced, I felt like I was flying on the clouds I saw earlier on the plane. It was like nothing could stop me – not even a little stumble. Gliding down the last diagonal of relevés (rising onto pointe), I was so excited and relieved to hit my last pose. Bowing to the audience’s applause felt like a weight had just been lifted off my shoulders. Then came the most intense part of this experience; it was time to see if I made it into the final round of competitions. I sat on the bed at 10pm into the night, exhausted, staring at my mom’s computer screen, butterflies flying in my stomach. The anticipation was killing me. All sorts of emotions kicked in as the final scores were about to come out. Soon, however, I couldn’t wait any longer and dozed off on my mom’s shoulder. That night, I dreamt about
Stone Soup Magazine for young readers, writers, and artists
Music to the Ears, a story by Emily Collins, 12
Emily Collins, 12 (Morgantown, WV) Music to the Ears Emily Collins, 12 One year, two months, and eight days. Is that really how long it’s been? Amber wondered, slipping her slender right foot into the early morning grass. Wet with dew and blowing in the wind, the grass felt like the ocean. She glided her left foot into the grass beside her other. One year, two months, and eight days, echoed in her head again. It had been one year, two months, and eight days since March 11, 2020. But it hadn’t been one year, two months, and eight days since her family’s 2019 Christmas Eve party. She replayed the Christmas Eve dinner in her head, an action which she had done time and time again since. She remembered the crowded dining room, full of children chasing each other or whining for food, and adults gossiping and setting the bowls and plates on the table for later. And there stood herself, little Amber, (or what seemed like little Amber, though she was not much younger at the time) amidst the strong smell of turkey and the loud, delighted screams of children. Amber’s mother was quite busy finishing the stuffing and Amber’s noisy, younger brother seemed too occupied with chasing down their grandparents’ old dog, so no one seemed to notice her. She paid no attention to these minor but important details at the time, and decided to make the most of it by secretly snatching a piece of bread before dinner. She ate it happily as she walked into the family room with the blazing fireplace and her smaller cousins, children whom she knew couldn’t yet grasp the concept of the no-eating-before-dinner rule. “Amber! Amber!” little Lindsay cries, jumping up from the large brown and green carpet that is covering almost every inch of the room. Lindsay, one of Amber’s youngest cousins, is 5-years-old (well, five and a half, which she is always reminding them) and has enough energy to beat a cheetah in a race. Her curly pigtails bounce as she attempts to jump up to Amber’s height, but, with disappointment, fails. Amber swallows the remainder of her bread and scoops Lindsay up into her hands. Lindsay laughs gleefully as Amber carries her around the room. “Aw, are you having fun, Lindsay?” Not being able to tell which adult spoke, Amber turns, still holding a giggling Lindsay. The long auburn hair, dimpled cheeks, and sharp, bright eyes tell her exactly which aunt she’s facing. “Hi, Aunt Velvet,” Amber says, but doesn’t continue because that’s when Lindsay hops out of her grip and yells, “Mommy, hi! I’m having a great time! Amber just picked me up and helped me fly!” “Is that so?” says Aunt Velvet, smiling and hugging her daughter’s shoulder. Amber grins, appreciative of their mother-daughter bond. Aunt Velvet then looks up at Amber and exclaims, “Oh my, Amber, you’re getting so tall!” If Amber still had that bread in her mouth, she would have choked on it. Aunt Velvet never talked about how grown up you were unless you were Justin or Olivia, her older cousins who were almost fifteen. Yet, here she was, Amber, not yet a teenager, being praised for her maturity. She blushes. “And your hair! It’s getting so long!” her aunt continues. “Have you ever thought of dying it? I know it’s already a beautiful color, but I’ve met a handful of girls your age who have.” “Oh, yes,” Amber lies. “I’ve been begging my mother to let me dye it, but you know how protective mothers get of their children at my age.” Amber tries to sound the most interesting and sophisticated that she can. Aunt Velvet laughs. “Oh, yes! I may be old, but I know what you mean!” “Do you have a boyfriend?” Lindsay suddenly joins the conversation. “Lindsay!” Aunt Velvet scolds her. She looks back at Amber and adds, “I’m sorry if that was embarrassing, I believe Lindsay has been secretly listening to Justin and Olivia’s conversations.” Amber had secretly smiled at the thought that Lindsay thought she was mature enough to have a boyfriend. But now, remembering the Christmas Eve party for what felt like the millionth time, she wasn’t smiling. Now, she thought to herself, Is that all growing up is? Dying your hair, getting a boyfriend? She shook her head. No, that can’t be all there is to it. She realized, a little guiltily, that these questions would have never entered her mind if the Pandemic had never happened. For if it had not happened, she would have never had the time to look over her life over and over again, to use her imagination as much as she had, to learn, sadly, of the terrible ache in the world. The Pandemic had allowed her the time to recall shameful memories of joining in the teasing of a girl with a crush, and of laughing along with others at the boy who always sat alone. She had the time to look the memories over and understand how they were wrong. And this led to more thinking. Not just about herself, but the about world around her. Not only of the sadness of the world, and the mistakes people made, but the beauty of it all. Soon she began to enjoy the time when she sat down to think. It changed her perspective tremendously. It was a bit like swinging on a swing set. For a moment, it’s a bit hard to adjust from the sudden change of going from the ground to the air, but soon it becomes a thrilling experience. You notice your change in perspective and surroundings as you swing through the air. It seems like everything around you is changing, but really the only one who’s changing is you. Yes, the passage of time is a good thing. It can open doors. It can heal wounds. And, everyone’s favorite, it can bring things back to… Normal. A familiar word, used everywhere these
Redwall, Reviewed by Daniel Zhu
In his novel Redwall, Brian Jacques pits a fearful rat named Cluny, who was thought to be a myth, against a relatively small community of peaceful creatures. However, in these dire times, the creatures of the Abbey surprised Cluny with unexpected strength and will. What Cluny thought would be a swift victory ended up being a slow, gruesome defeat. The transformation of the peaceful creatures of Redwall into formidable fighters was quite amazing and inspiring to see. The qualities that they came to possess seemed to directly combat the dirty tactics deployed by Cluny, and allowed them to achieve victory. The creatures of Redwall were quite formidable, but because the Abbey had preserved peace for so long, that formidability lay dormant for many years. The main character of the book, Matthias, has been aspiring to be like his hero Martin the Warrior, a legendary warrior mouse, since the beginning of his book. However, because of the long-lasting peace that the Abbey has preserved, Matthias was told to push that aspiration aside. Unfortunately, this was soon changed by Cluny’s sudden attack on Redwall. Luckily, Cluny completely underestimated the Redwall Abbey, and perhaps his inflated ego at the start of the conflict is what caused him to lose the war. By not immediately overwhelming the Abbey by force, precious time was bought, which allowed the defenders to set up proper defense; the wall defending the Abbey also contributed to Cluny’s defeat. Under the lead of Matthias, the creatures of Redwall were able to mount a strong defense force that was not only trained in strength but also in will and confidence. With encouraging leaders like Basil Stag Hare, a loquacious hare, the creatures of Redwall were able to keep their spirits up even with immense danger looming in front of them. On the contrary, Cluny’s forces were driven by fear, a bond that was destroyed the instant the fear-instiller – in this case, Cluny – was vanquished. A major reason for Cluny’s loss was the way his army, and that of Redwall, was controlled. The entire reason that Cluny’s army held together was the menacing reputation Cluny had built for himself. Using fear as a cruel form of motivation, it was soon apparent that none of the horde cared for each other; they were like zombies, controlled by the fearsome image of Cluny. The Redwall Abbey, on the other hand, was held together by friendship and trust. There was no one person who controlled them; rather, they naturally banded with each other. While Cluny had all of his soldiers chained to him, Redwall had their creatures bonded with each other. Cluny’s army lacked confidence and will, seeing as Cluny scarcely ever encouraged anyone, but by encouraging each other, the creatures of Redwall were able to edge Cluny’s army out of their beloved Abbey. While Cluny’s army began to despair, for example, after Cluny was forced to rest for three weeks after an injury, even after their tapestry of Martin was stolen and the gates of Redwall were opened, Redwall remained firm. Every person knew they were cared for and had an important role to play, and that increased their motivation and strength. This strategy was far more effective than the cruel, torturous methods of Cluny. In conclusion, the main contributing factor to Cluny’s loss was the way his forces, and those of Redwall, were united. While Cluny’s horde was chained to him, and only him, the creatures of Redwall shared a much stronger bond with each other because they were part of a community; none of which existed with Cluny’s horde. As more and more attacks failed, Cluny’s army began to lose hope and break apart. Many high-ranking creatures in the army were killed off, and the fact that Cluny wanted to have complete control over everyone in his army didn’t make it better. Ultimately, the friendship shared between the creatures of Redwall far outweighed any power fear could invoke. Redwall by Brian Jacques. Firebird, 2002. Buy the book here and support Stone Soup in the process!
