Art, Music, and My Piano
My life would not be the same without music. Without art. * * * Art is a place just for me. Just me. I could draw anything,...
Memoirs
Personal narratives and life experiences
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My life would not be the same without music. Without art.
* * *
Art is a place just for me. Just me. I could draw anything, and it would be beautiful.
No one cares if I mess up or not, or if I did this wrong, or if I did that wrong.
It’s just me, perfecting this and that. I like it.
There are plants all around my house. At the front door, behind the fence in the backyard, in front of the fence. I don’t know any of the names.
I’ve always wanted to be that type of person who can distinguish between which plant is poisonous, which plant is useful and edible, which plant attracts this bug and which plant attracts that one. But that is not me.
StoneSoupMagazine · Vignettes by Claire Jiang, 12
Isn’t there a time where you think that you should be doing something, changing it, and wanting to? But not knowing how to, and then think, Why do I have an obligation to do this?
I do.
Whenever people talk about pollution and global warming, I agree with them all the way. Climate change is affecting all of us. The trees. The animals.
In my memory, my grandmother is the figure of kindness, the perfect role model. That’s how I will always remember her. That summer, when my grandmother died, she was different—the woman I met there didn’t fit my memory of her, though she was my grandmother nonetheless. My grandmother always had bright eyes and a cheerful smile ready in store to use whenever I was around.
Third place in the Fall 2019 Personal Narrative Contest with the Society of Young Inklings.
A summer in rural China teaches the narrator not to take her life for granted
This summer, I was in the Liangshan mountains in rural Sichuan, China, for camp. At first, it seemed like an ordinary place, but those ten days taught me what gratitude is.
Liangshan is a historically poor county.
Second place in the Fall 2019 Personal Narrative Contest with the Society of Young Inklings.
A foggy bus ride home invokes a dreamy state of mind
The long, yellow school bus is full of noise—laughing, yelling, chatting, gossiping, squealing, groaning, and singing (a bunch of third-graders, all of whom are rather loud and out of tune).
Winner of the Fall 2019 Personal Narrative Contest with the Society of Young Inklings.
A new friendship forms after a harrowing shared experience
“If you’re happy and you know it, clap your hands!”
Clap, clap!
“If you’re happy and you know it, clap your hands!”
Clap, clap!
We were dancing on the mat in the kindergarten classroom.
After a bad fall shakes her confidence as a ballerina, Sara resolves to get stronger
The thin black straps from my leotard dug into my skin. My feet stung and ached inside my dirty, pink pointe shoes, and the humid room reeked of sweat. The teacher was saying something in Russian, pointing to the corner. Her face was very much like that of a hawk; her sharp eyes speared us one by one.
An unexpected illness changes a boy’s life
“Sit down,” my mom said with a smile. “Let me tell you the story of when God came through for you.”
It all started when I was a little baby. My mom saw something particularly important on the right side of my head. A bump? That’s strange, my mom thought, but she had no choice but to forget about it for the time being.
“What if I’m alone forever?” the narrator wonders when her mother isn’t waiting at the bus stop
Boom! Crackle! It was dark and rainy, and as the clouds cried, lightning flashed through the sky like a gun being fired. The sky darkened. But in our school bus, there were always rays of sunshine. Our school bus wasn’t really a school bus, but more like a van.