1993, Washington DC— a new voice was being added to the Supreme Court. It was the voice of Ruth Bader Ginsburg. It was a young voice, but it was strong. And though she was young, she sang as loud as she could in the choir of the Supreme Court. She was different from anyone there, but she still sang loud and bright and beautifully in the court. Her beautiful song suggested a place where everyone is equal. No one is hated, no one is oppressed. Her song gained attention from those everywhere. They turned on their radios and TVs and opened their newspapers to hear her song. She sang for those listening. Sang to honor their voices, just so they could feel like people, like everyone else. Ruth was finally heard, heads turned. She became the star of the choir, singing louder and louder. She worked so hard, faced so many challenges, but she kept singing. All of this just so the people could feel like people. She provided hope for those who thought that they would never get to hear a voice, a song, that honored them, that they would never get to live in a world where they mattered. But why did she have to work so hard, just so people could feel like people? Why does the heroine have to climb a higher tower to save the princess than the hero? She slowly tuned out the voices of those who sang for inequality. She was the star of every performance, the role model of every girl. No voices outshined hers. She kept her choir in perfect harmony. She had always been the loudest. Everyone singing with her thought she had the most angelic voice–the most meaningful, powerful. Why didn’t she use this voice for riches or wealth? But she didn’t sing for that. She sang for the dreamers and the can’t-hear-my-screamers because Ruth knew that if you didn’t dream, dreams would never come true, and if your dream was never heard, then nobody would dream at all. Nobody would get what they dreamed of, they would simply think it was impossible. Ruth was there to prove that it wasn’t impossible. And that’s why she sang. Ruth sang for kindness against hate, Love against tragedy, Remorse against shamelessness, Heroicness against passiveness, Smiling against smirking, Making things better against making things better for you. She knew that those who hated would never succeed— that hate will do no good for them. She believed that love will win and hate will get you nowhere in the end. It was a lot of work to tune out all of the voices that sang for hate. Her voice became shriller and weaker, but still, she didn’t run out of breath. She changed music forever. She had the choir singing in the most beautiful harmony. She had everything circulating in a new way, a better way. She seemed to have the weight of the world on her shoulders, yet she still sang, and the people watched in awe. The other side of the choir thought she was weak, doubted her, but Ruth sang on. People wondered how long she would keep singing before the voices of the other side of her choir became too loud for her ears, and her voice became too soft. She said that she would sing as long as she breathes, even if her last breath is before the day her songs saved the world. Things weren’t going well for Ruth. She had gotten very sick. She had lost her voice. The whole world waited for it to return. Though she couldn’t sing, she conducted the choir as best as she could. People thought this was it for Ruth. But it was far from the end. She recovered. . . And the first thing she did. . . Start singing. Her voice became strained. She was old, and she was running out of breath, but she hadn’t yet. As the years passed her voice still shone, drowning out those who sang of hate, and everytime she sang a song, it became weaker, and weaker, until she was so old her voice was quieter than a dropping pin, yet so loud. People were used to her song filling her ears. It wasn’t over, not for Ruth. It wasn’t over yet. And so more years passed and her voice was on the verge of falling out. Finally she sang her last note: “My most fervent wish is that I will not be replaced until a new president is installed” and just like that, her breath ran out, and her voice stopped. The courtroom went silent. Nobody sang. The voices she had tuned out would begin to be heard again, and the choir that sang behind her would try their best to keep harmony without her, but not yet. Nobody dared to utter a single note. The whole world listened in on September 18, 2020, as the nation spoke of the absence of the voice of Ruth Bader Ginsburg. The days will continue—there is no stopping them—but music will never be the same, and for now, all songs are gone. They will be, until somebody who has a voice as powerful of hers will sing her song. We will always have the echoes of her music in our ears. These echos will never fade. They are here to remind us that Ruth’s sacrifice was not in vain. They are all there is until the music starts again.
Stone Soup Magazine for young readers, writers, and artists
The Book of Three, Reviewed by Nora, 12
Have you ever met a pig? Maybe you have. Have you ever met a pig that can see the future? The answer is almost definitely a no. It is just that, though, (a pig that can see the future) that begins the wonderful tale that is told within the pages of The Book of Three, which is the first book in Lloyd Alexander’s series The Chronicles of Prydain. Taran wants to be a hero. He wants a title, and a sword, and he wants to fight. But he is stuck at Caer Dallben, with Coll, and the enchanter, Dallben. He wants a title that shows his courage, and bravery, but instead, he gets the title of Assistant Pig-Keeper. It is part of his job to look after Hen Wen, the oracular pig that resides at Caer Dallben. But, when Hen Wen runs away, fleeing the terrible Horned King, it is up to Taran to get her back. He must leave the safety of Caer Dallben, and go into the wilderness of Prydain, searching for the pig. Along the way, he gathers to him a group of friends. First, there is Gwydion, who quickly becomes a hero in Taran’s eyes. Not only is he a prince in the House of Don, he is wise, and brave, and strong. Second, there is Gurgi. Gurgi is neither human nor wild animal. Taran finds him bothersome, and prone to complaining about not having enough food, but Gurgi becomes just as important to their mission as any of the others. Then, there is Eilonwy. When Taran first meets her, he sees only a scatterbrained, silly little girl, with not much respect for Assistant Pig-Keepers. But along the way, Taran realizes that Eilonwy is much braver, (and much, much more stubborn) than he had thought. Last, there is Fflewddur Fflam, the bard. Fflewddur is known for “coloring up the facts,” but his harp is enchanted, so every time he does not tell the truth, a string breaks, revealing his lie. The friends must find Hen Wen, but they also must be wary. The evil Arawn is at large in Prydain, and he has servants everywhere, the most fearsome of which is the Horned King… One thing I especially like about The Book of Three is the variety of characters. Gwydian, Gurgi, Taran, Eilonwy, and Fflewddur all have their own strengths and skills to add to their group, and together, they are very strong. The Chronicles are less well known than Harry Potter, or Percy Jackson, But Lloyd Alexander writes in a way that sucks you in just as much as any other adventure story. Taran, Eilonwy, and the rest, feel real, as you read of their adventures. I would recommend The Book of Three and the rest of the series to anyone about eight and up. There are scenes that get rather creepy, but altogether, the books are wonderful reads. The Book of Three by Lloyd Alexander. Square Fish, 1964. Buy the book here and support Stone Soup in the process!
Book Club Report: The Night Diary, by Veera Hiranandani
An update from our twenty-third Book Club meeting! At our first Book Club meeting of 2021, on January 30, the Stone Soup Book Club discussed The Night Diary, by Veera Hiranandani. The Night Diary tells the story of a half-Hindu, half-Muslim girl named Nisha during the separation of India and Pakistan, and is written through letters from Nisha to her mother, who died when Nisha was born. Our meeting consisted of over forty kids from across the US, Canada, and Europe, and we were very lucky to be joined for the first twenty minutes of Book Club by Veera Hiranandani, author of The Night Diary! We were able to ask her a variety of questions, from how she decided to be a writer, to the amount of research she had to do in order to write her book, to the impact of cooking and food in the story. She told us how she was inspired by her grandfather’s experiences in India, and how she herself feels that food can connect her to her culture. Thank you very much, Ms. Hiranandani, for joining us! After Ms. Hiranandani’s visit, we broke into small groups to discuss what we enjoyed about her visit, and then regrouped to have a conversation about the role of letters written by Nisha to her mother in the book. Overall, we agreed that the book was very good as an epistolary novel (that is, written through letters), and we talked about some of the challenges of writing that way, such as making sure the dates on the letters line up! Next, we went into four breakout rooms (led by myself, Laura, and two of our older participants, Maddy N. and Lucy) to talk overall about the book, including the characters, settings, and themes. We discussed the complexity of the characters, as well as how vivid some of the scenes were, and most of us agreed that before this book, we had not known much about the separation of India and Pakistan, and that The Night Diary had taught us a lot! Finally, we chose our next book, which is listed below. Our Next Book (to be discussed on February 27): The Thing About Jellyfish, Ali Benjamin
