Meleah Goldman, 10 (Oakland, CA) The Roots of Our Peace Meleah Goldman, 10 When I think of peace, I look to nature. I have spent so much time during this pandemic looking outside of my large, clear window. In the background, I can hear the worldwide marches of Black Lives Matter on my television. While our fellow humans are fighting for basic peace, my window shows me endless examples of how different parts of nature work together, each tiny gear depending on peace and cooperation within their differences. Peace is the blueness of the sky being different from the purple of the flowers and the green of the sea, yet they all work together. Peace is accepting the rich history and memories inside the roots of the many different trees. Like humans, they long to break through the heavy sameness of the concrete that coats the streets of every town and city. Peace is not walking the streets of earth, worrying if you are safe because of your roots or the color of your skin. No. Peace is finally breaking up the concrete, releasing the long-covered wild roots and allowing them to color our world. Why should nature be better at creating equality and peace than our own human race? Our sun beats down its warmth freely and equally; it leaves no one in the shadows. So why should anyone shine their rays of discrimination on the faces of our beautiful human race? Peace is not found in a shattered mirror; a dangerous, broken glass, holding only reflections of people who look and act the same. No. Peace is an infinite sky, where the possibilities are limitless. Peace is you and me, together in our humanness, celebrating the power of our garden of roots.
Stone Soup Magazine for young readers, writers, and artists
The Beekeeper’s Apprentice, reviewed by Pragnya, 12
Sherlock Holmes is one of the world’s most famous fictional detectives. He, along with his accomplice Dr. John Watson, solves mysteries and cracks incredibly intricate cases. In The Beekeeper’s Apprentice, however, Holmes finally meets his match in 15-year-old egotistical Mary Russell in this story of mystery. The novel is an enticing adventure about looking behind the obvious to see what lies behind the seemingly coincidental whodunit. Set in 1915, in Britain, Mary has her nose in a book while accidentally stumbling upon Sherlock Holmes, who, tired of the constant adventure in London, had decided to take up raising bees in a quiet Sussex estate. Over time, Holmes and Mary start to grow closer, creating a mentor-tutor bond between the unexpected duo. Russell, intellectual as much as she was gawky, had been accepted to Oxford in the year of 1917, fresh from Holmes’ lessons. In 1918, the American senator’s daughter Jessica Simpson had been kidnapped and there was no one better to call on the case than Holmes, who takes Mary on her first international case. However, while rescuing her, they start to realize this plot ran much deeper than they thought. They start to follow a mystery that takes them across the world, across cryptic codes for them to uncover a tale intertwined in the middle of forbidden fate. The setting is rich and vivid, filled with lots of details about life in the early 1900s. Every scene is packed with action, either emotionally or physically. I especially enjoyed the point of view and the distinct personalities of the characters, Mary’s especially strong personality resonating with me and many other coming-of-age adolescents, not to mention being especially empowering for young girls such as myself. Being a mystery genre aficionado, I went into this expecting to find many hints and this book failed to disappoint. The foreshadowing towards the end of the adventure was expertly done, with little clues being dropped in the most unexpected of places. I thoroughly enjoyed this book. With its witty conversations and monologue, engaging prose, and relatable characters, The Beekeeper’s Apprentice will leave you hanging tight on to the edge of your cover until the very last reveal. The Beekeeper’s Apprentice by Laurie R. King. Picador USA, 2014. Buy the book here and support Stone Soup in the process!
The Sky’s the Limit, a personal narrative by Jaslyn Kwan, 12
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
