Story #326

The first time I was told that I was going to be placed in the Child Care Learning Centre for this course I was really excited because I used to live in east residence and every time I walked past the CCLC I always wondered what it would be like to work in there. After I enrolled, every time I would walk past the CCLC I would tell myself or my friends in a really excited voice that I was going to be working there! I felt like this was an amazing opportunity to learn and practice in the field. I felt like this would give me a chance to learn about my interests and enhance my skills more. This first day I entered the class I was really fascinated with the way the children were so welcoming and incredibly intelligent. I admit it after the first day, when I had to write my very first activity plan, that’s when the anxiety hit me because I had never considered myself to be a very creative person but I really wanted to do well in this course.

– Simran Arora, Guelph

Story #325

Once there was a retired Shetland pony called Morsel the Horsel (he was named after some little kids who often visited him.) When he was younger he was a riding pony for kids, he had keep all his riding gear as a memento. Sometimes, just for fun he would try on his gear. One day while he was wearing his saddle little kids came to visit they fed him dandelions through fence. As they left he neighed goodbye.

– Tilly, Aucland

Story #324

a flower bed with different kinds of colorful flowers in full detail. each of them has a personality, each a different character. they are all very very beautiful, and people pass by these flowers and try to pick the flower they want. But the thing is, each different flower make up the most amazing flowerbed. And the flower bed is the person i love.

– Jazel Khu, Manila

Story #323

Martha didn’t like to be in the wet weather that came with winter. In fact, she couldn’t be in the wet weather. She would dissolve. Martha was literally an old woman made of plaster.
But now, it was summer. The warm, dry heat that suited her body so well was in full flow, the bees were buzzing cheerfully, and Martha was happy. After three seasons of waiting, she could finally go outside again.

Martha left as soon as she got up. Today was a day where she would go to the park. Yes, the park. It was sunny, green, and quiet. Perfect.

She left the house with her leather handbag clasped to her chest. Though it was summer, she was clad heavily in clothing, and wore delicate pink mittens on her frail old hands. She walked briskly, ignoring anyone who stared, until she came to the park. A bench sat just under a cherry tree nearby, as though waiting for her. She sat and sighed. She did not know how long she lay there, eyes closed and legs crossed, but it must have been a good while. Because, eventually, Martha felt a drop of rain fall down on her forehead and run down the bridge of her nose. This was followed by a number of others. Soon, Martha was sitting in a wet park.

She sat up abruptly. In the blink of an eye, she was running down the road, handbag held above her head. She did not stop running until she reached her small, tangerine, little house. Once inside, Martha breathed a sigh of relief. Perhaps going out, even in summer, was a tad too risky.

– Atticus Green, Auckland

Story #322

Sometimes I want to be a Vampire with strong strength and strong mental power. I want to have this ability. And the Vampires are very beatiful.

But sometimes I want to be the protagonist in the novel which can change people’s genes . So I can make people free from the difference between life and death.

I have a strong Brain hole, where often have a lot of whimsy. So sometime I think I am very crazy.

– Stella, Shanghai

Story #321

Deep within a forest a little turtle began to climb a tree. After hours of effort he reached the top, jumped into the air waving his front legs and crashed to the ground. After recovering, he slowly climbed the tree again, jumped, and fell to the ground. The turtle tried again and again while a couple of birds sitting on a branch watched his sad efforts.

Finally, the female bird turned to her mate.

“Dear,” she chirped, “I think it’s time to tell him he’s adopted.”

– ICE GUO, SHENZHEN.CHINA

Story #320

Hebzibar floated in the sky. She had eaten a teacake yesterday. That was a mistake. She should have known that something was not right as soon as she had met the old hag in the forest. She most definitely should have known something was not right when the hag had offered her the suspicious cake, and she HAD known something was not right by the time she had eaten the cake and her feet were not touching the ground.

A life doomed to be spent floating about the sky was not going to be fun.

– Persephone, Copenhagen

Story #319

Having a sibling with autism, or any type of special needs opens your eyes to all the hate in the world. It feels as though all the meanest, most idiotic people happen to come into you and your families lives.  And the worst thing is, they can’t help it. They have never experienced it, never loved someone with it. It is their inexperience that is the reason behind their spiteful comments. I am always telling myself this. So many of my friends that I like and respect ask me, unashamedly, why my brother is a ‘ retard’ or ‘stupid’ . He is not stupid, but different, and wonderful in so many ways that ‘normal’ people can never be. People fail to appreciate this, that autism isn’t just negative, but positive too.  I know this is wrong, but I can’t help but think that the person being rude and mean to my brother is the stupid one. People need to stop ignoring and avoiding all the amazing, special people in this world, and start embracing them and their differences.

– Atticus Green, Auckland

Story #318

The stars above her twinkled, reflected in the puddle she was sitting in. Her fur was wet and matted , but she didn’t care. Pressing her telescope to her eye, she looked at Venus, Mars and Saturn . . . all so far away.

That night she dreamt of growing wings and flying, up, up, up . . . gliding among the stars.

– Teacup, Glasgow

Story #317

With all the chaos and gloom behind the scene, we were somehow managing to keep going and we never stopped dreaming of dark pink bougainvillaeas hanging down our pergola. Hard to live in this world, so we made up our own feeding on rainbows and the sound of the sea. The bluest sea…

– Gokce, İstanbul, Turkey