"Untitled" by Bill N

Phở is widely known across the world as the most popular and national dish of Vietnam, their multiple variants of the dish as with any other dish. Phở to me is home, it is a reminder of my childhood when I was still living in Ho Chi Minh City and only a small part of the vast cultural heritage of Vietnam as a whole. In its purest form, Phở is a bowl of rice noodles with different cuts of beef (sometimes chicken) in hot broth made from the biggest bones you could find at the supermarket. Originally, phở was created in the northern capital of Hanoi from the remnants of the French take over of Vietnam but was widespread to the southern city of Ho Chi Minh City. During the rise in popularity in the south, the dish went to a drastic change separating the dish into a northern style which is less flavorful, simple, and completely inferior in every way. The style that all of us are used to in the U.S. is of course the over the top southern style of phở, which packs flavor in every spoon and flooded with meat. The southern style will always have a place in my heart as I grew up eating it everyday before school for breakfast, after school lunch, and for dinner. Most of you reading have probably had phở before at a restaurant but let me tell you when I say what you had is definitely nothing like the real authentic version of it so here I am presenting my own family’s take on the dish and don’t be afraid to make mistakes, the dish requires a lot of labor and is much harder than it looks. 

Ingredients:

• -  6 Big beef bones
  
• -  1 and a half Ginger , cut into halves
  
• -  1 White onion , peeled and cut into halves
  
• -  Salt (add to taste)
  
• -  2 Star anise (put them into a cheesecloth or herb bag)
  
• -  10 cups of Water
  
• -  2 tblspoons of Fish sauce (add to taste)
  
• -  Rice noodles
  
• -  1 pound of Flank, Brisket, Oxtail, Steak (any of these will work)
  Garnishes:
  

• -  Cilantro
  
• -  Bean Sprouts
  
• -  Lime wedges
  
• -  Hoisin sauce
  
• -  Sriracha
  
• -  Green onions
  
• -  Basil
  Cooking instructions:
  

1. In a large pot, place all your bones and meat into it and fill the pot with water, bring the pot to a boil (around 15-20 mins)
   
2. Drain out the pot and rinse the bones and meat of any scum and impurities (this step is especially important to not having a cloudy phở broth by the end and don’t worry about losing flavor because the bones haven’t gotten to the stage of breaking down)
   

3. Take your onions, star anise and ginger, roast them on a saucepan until the star anise and ginger are nicely roasted, while the onion is browned and soft to the touch. (By doing this, they add umami and flavor to the broth, while also making it extremely aromatic, THIS STEP IS EXTREMELY IMPORTANT)
   
4. Place your bones, meat, onions, ginger, star anise, fish sauce, and water all back into the cooking pot and bring it to a boil.
   
5. After the pot is boiling, turn the heat down so that the bones can cook low and slow for maximum flavor (Keep it cooking for about 8 hours at a minimum and 12 hours at a maximum, the longer it is cooking the deeper the flavor)
   
6. Occasionally check on your pot, mixing it around every time and taste the broth. (Salt to taste)
   

Prepping the Bowl:
1. Remove the meat from the pot and slice it into manageable bite sized pieces
2. In another smaller pot, bring water to a boil and cook the noodles to your liking then
place it into a big bowl
3. Place your slices of meat down and pour the boiling hot broth into the bowl
4. Garnish your bowl of delicious phở with bean sprouts, cilantro, basil, lime, hoisin and
sriracha sauce, and green onions (this step is completely optional, it is to your
preference)
5. There’s nothing left to do but to enjoy a delicious bowl of your hard work.
P.S. - Personally I like to eat my phở in its purest form without anything else other than how it is served, you shouldn’t ruin 8 hours of hard work by pouring sriracha and hoisin into it without even tasting the original broth but everyone likes different things so this is just how I prefer to eat.
That concludes my recipe for arguably one of the best dishes in the entire world, I hope you guys enjoy making it and finally getting to have an authentic eating experience.

"Broken Glass" by Joshua K

The day is November 9th of 2018. Bright, luming rays of sunshine come through my
windows as I lie in bed, not yet awoken to begin the day. For a brief moment, when I open my eyes, the bliss of such a beautiful day overshadows the journey ahead. In that moment, I merely acknowledge my surroundings and feel the blessings of another day. 

Following a long and contemplative shower, I embark on my journey. Phone calls are coming in left and right. I, myself, take the liberty of answering every single one so that my sister does not endure the hardships of such conversation. “What happened?” , “I can’t believe it!” , “Just a week ago we had a conversation...”. Disbelief and misunderstanding fills my ears for hours as I call aunts, cousins, friends. All these people without a clue of what had just happened or why. The day before, my mother, April Kidwell, had lost her life to the effects of poor decisions. 

These people did not see nor hear any of the hardship I had endured. They merely “sympathize” and move on. These people were not around when the mountain lions were on the roof. These people were not around when there were ghosts in the house. These people were not around when we almost drove off of the freeway because she was so heavily intoxicated. These people did not live the life I had. If they had just known or seen the pain and suffering she had endured, we all may have made a difference. If I could’ve been the son she needed, maybe she would’ve stopped living so fast. 
 Although, then again, one must not live off of what-ifs. 

From birth to the moment my mom’s heart no longer beat, I was there. Feeling the heat leave from the body of somebody you once loved is undescribable. All the moments and memories ever created with that person remain but the toll of the loss is immense. Unfortunately, as I have begun to find out, even the memories do not always reside positively. Frequent nightmares of the breathing machines and heart monitors continue to haunt me. Once during class I had even heard a noise similar to the machines which led me closely towards a panic attack. They say “bad memories fade”, but they are still, to this day, prevalent. 

Growing up, Mom was the one who taught me habits for school that I still use to this day. I remember her quizzing me with flashcards for multiplication. Cigarette in one hand and flash card in the other. To many, the thought of cigarettes around children is horrendous, but my mom was always avoiding when she could. After all, a nicotine addiction does need its fill regardless of situation. Among the use of cigarettes throughout my life, Mom fell upon many other substances for a crutch. 

Methamphetamine, vicodin, and alcohol all played a role in her declining state. Although beating both the meth and the vicodin with rehabilitation, alcohol became her eventual demise. Of all her poisonous habits, she still had the biggest heart of anybody you would ever know. I recall once her giving a new friend $600 to borrow for a “head start”. Although I warned her of bad intentions, her heart and willingness to believe in others overshadowed her fear of loss. As I feared, my mother never saw that money again. 

Today and everyday forward, I think of my mom. From time to time I look at a picture of me and my parents before the divorce and downward spiral. My mom has her arms around her little boy, protecting him as she always had. I smile and think of the good times we both shared. The jokes, cooking, even the TV shows we shared in watching all fill my mind. I am grateful she

gave the time to her children and gave all she could for her children. The harsh reality I had to face occurred to me in a church at the hospital. My uncle, Mom’s brother Wade, said to me “she hasn’t been happy for a long time”. In that moment above all else, the reality of the situation set in. I knew it was time. 

My sister, the next of kin to my mother, was the sole bearer of the decision to metaphorically “pull the plug”. Me, Brianna (my sister), and my Mom’s boyfriend at the time (Jason), all decided it was the right thing to do. Mom had been on what they call “all means necessary” treatment. She was maxed out on medication, breathing tube treatment, everything. The doctor, whom I disliked very much, had given us one alternative which would be a temporary fix with an extremely high risk of bleeding out. Even if she had survived, she would’ve been disabled for the rest of her life. With disability in mind and the ass-kicking that would ensue if she were to survive in such a manner, we knew Mom’s decision and took action. They removed the medication and turned off the heart monitor noise so as not to cause more trauma. We all watched her rate drop. From 100, to 70, to 50, the process was depressing and very extensive. There was by no means a rush for Mom to pass but the slow decline was by far much worse than any movie has ever depicted. There is no mere plug pull. There is no immediate death. There is just a long, solemn line that gets closer, and closer to flattening. When the nurse came in and declared Mom dead, tears rang out from almost all whom encompassed the room. The only two not crying were me and Brianna. Not because we were not sad or because we did not care, but rather we were relieved for Mom to finally be at peace. We knew that the declaration of death meant Mom had begun her new chapter in Heaven. Regardless of what religion you may believe

in, a hope for something greater is a necessity in my eyes. Without hope, there is no reason to push forward. Without moving forward, there is no hope.

"Memories" by Alicia K

It was seven o’clock when we got to our destination, the familiar broken roads, reckless driving, and small apartment complexes welcomed us as usual. Everything was the same except the time we would usually go to San Gabriel, it was way too early for our arrival, but every family member was required to be present by 7:30. 

As we piled out of the car, it was strange, no one was running to bear hug our favorite great aunt at the front door, or formally greet our great-grandparents. Maybe it was because we weren’t at the house where I grew up at instead, we were at a small white building ten minutes away from the place that held so many memories. 

As each of us slowly walked towards the brown double doors from oldest to youngest, suddenly I heard sniffling behind me, I turned to see each of my three siblings having tears running down their faces, I didn’t understand why. I turned back around and continued walking through the doors and into the building. On both sides were rows of brown pews, I ignored everything and walked towards the front where our great grandmother was sitting, hugging a packet of tissues. Still knowing my manners, I acknowledged her as traditionally, and all my siblings followed in pursuit. 

Yet my mother did not follow the custom, she sat right in the empty seat next to our great grandmother and hugged her tightly, tears streaming down her face as well. At that moment I couldn’t comprehend the scene that was occurring, my mother and my great grandmother were never on the best terms, nor were they very fond of each other, and they both knew that. But then I realized why we were there in the first place, and why the seat next to great grandmother was empty. I looked away from the scene and towards the front of the room, and found our great grandfather. But it wasn’t actually him, it was just a picture of him in a black suit with a blank

face decorated with flowers. Behind the frame was an open casket, I didn’t need to look to know where great grandfather was really. 

Throughout the service, as the sniffling slowing went away, I still couldn’t figure out why everyone was crying. The only logical explanation I figured out was that despite all the bad blood within the family, at the end of the day they were still all considered family and made years of memories they would always cherish, especially with great grandfather.

"Almost" by Melody L

Barely

There were a lot of things that came to mind when I think about the things I barely have finished.
I barely finish my homework on time, I barely made it on time to the plane when I was moving, and I barely sorted my affairs before I moved. 

Almost

A word so similar to the word “barely” but both words are used in different instances. “Almost,”
a word so connected to “barely” but it implies a negative consequence. Almost getting a job, almost rejecting love, almost making it in life. But, I know that almost achieving love is the worst.
I guess in the end, whose fault is it if love never existed in the first place? “... Therefore, we can’t be together anymore.” 

He blinked at me twice. I checked my phone for the time; I had five hours before my flight. I stared back at him. The atmosphere stayed the same. It was as if he expected me to say that to him a day before I left. I guess barely made it. He didn’t say anything, instead, all he did was nod and leave my apartment. After he walked out of my red door and I heard the familiar click of the door closing, I got up straight away to prepare for my flight to my new home. I hop into the shower, feeling a sensation of relief as the lukewarm water hit my head. Regretfully, a million new thoughts flooded my head as my shower dragged on. 

What’s his family like?
What does he do for a living nowadays?
What is his favorite color?
I know we’ve been together for long, but how many years has it been? When did we become strangers? 

We barely talked at night this year, but some time last year we almost talked everyday. Or was it last year we barely talked? Or was it two years before we almost talked everyday? I guess we have grown so apart until we both turned cold. 

I quickly hop out of the shower and change into comfortable clothes. To keep myself busy, I folded and folded the clothes in my luggage. I checked my phone for the time and I noticed a notification from him that read:
“Thank you for the past 7 years” 

The time told me that I had half an hour before my driver was here to pick me up. I just played on my phone until my driver texted me:
“Here, black toyota convertible.”
I looked outside and responded with “Okay.” 

After I situated myself in the backseat of the car, the driver turns around with a smile and offers me a can of soda. I accept it and drink it with gratitude. After his kind gesture he created small-talk until we got to the airport. I found out his name was Frederick and he absolutely adored talking about his wife and kids.
After checking in, I waited for my flight patiently. I listened to music and browsed social media. When my mind began to numb from looking at the screen for too long, I looked around. As I observed the empty spaces next to me, I wondered when the warmth of his presence ended. I guess the answer was that I can live well without him. 

I shake my thoughts away and realize that I needed to board the plane. After a rush of time, chaos and turbulence, I start to head to my new home. I almost never made it. I sit closely to the window and look out. My vision began to become unfocused as I began to think about him again. 

A million of empty memories filled my mind while I sat comfortably in the silence of the plane. Were we really smiling? Were we really in love? Why did we stay if scars get deeper over time? What did I give to you and what did I take from you? Was breaking up really a lost? 

I blinked twice and tears flooded down my face. Whose fault is it if love never existed in the first place?

Happy Holidays! Celebrate with some new writers!

 Remember to read all of the selections for this month --   comments are for this latest group only (no earlier months/submissions, or last year's submissions)  NO ANONYMOUS COMMENTS.  Be sure your name is attached or included in the text book with your comment.

https://www.chemistryworld.com/news/what-makes-a-snowflake-special/3008386.article

All Students:  Be sure to read the entries for this group  (December writers).  Everyone is required to comment on at least three different pieces of writing.  You must post the comment here on the blog (below the post is the "comments" link to click) AND cut and paste your comments, complete with dates and times, on to a Word document and turn it in to me by January 18.  You must do both to get credit for comments this month.

Remember, comments must be positive, supportive, constructive, and SPECIFIC.  No "Good Job!" comments, unless you follow that with specific things you thought were done well in the piece.  Show them you actually took the time to read and enjoy their work!

“How To Make Arroz con Leche” by Jasmine H

When I think of Arroz con Leche I think of my young self begging my grandma to make me some arroz con leche. Arroz con leche is a mexican desert that is made with rice, cinnamon, lechera (sweet condensed milk), milk, and leche de clavel (evaporated milk). There are many ways to make arroz con leche, but I’ll be showing you the way that my mama and abuela taught me. It can be difficult the first couple of tries but as my abuela says, “ Lo que más importa es la cantidad de esfuerzo y amor que pones.” which means what really matters the most is the love and effort you put in. This dessert will always be my favorite and I can’t wait to pass it on to my children and have my children pass it on to theirs. This is the perfect treat for the people that love sweets. Hopefully you’ll try to make it and enjoy it as much as I do. 

Ingredients needed:

• -  3 cups of white rice
  
• -  1⁄2 gallon of milk
  
• -  2 sticks of cinnamon
  
• -  1 can of carnation milk
  
• -  1 can of condensed milk
  
• -  Water 
  
  
  
  
  Equipment needed:
  

• -  A pot or large saucepan
  
• -  Measuring cup
  
• -  Cooking spoon
  
• -  Can opener
  
• -  Strainer
  Steps:
  

1. To start off, get your pot and pour 3 1⁄2 cups of water with the 2 sticks of cinnamon in medium to high heat 

4. Once you see the water boiling and the rice looking fluffy you can add the 1⁄2 gallon of milk 

5. Add in the carnation milk (evaporated milk) once you pour it in, fill up the can with water and pour into pot

6. Add the condensed milk and make sure you put in every but in the cup so it can be very sweet 
   
   
   
   
                                             * It should look like this once you add
                                                                  everything
   
7. Now you can lower the heat to the lowest and continuously to stir for 1 minute and cover with a lid and let sit for 40 minutes
   
8. You can try a spoon to check if the rice is fully cooked if it’s still a bit hard you can let it sit for another 10 minutes
   
9. There are couple ways you can eat:
   

a. you can put it in the refrigerator and eat it cold or you can eat it right warm
10. Serve and top with ground cinnamon or raisins 

11.  ENJOY !!!! 

Tips:
★ If it’s getting too thick what you can do is add milk and mix
★ If you’re worried about the rice sticking to the bottom while its sitting for 40 minutes you
can give a couple of stirs not too much because you don't want your rice to break

"The Audition" by Lilian H

 
      My heart is pounding. My hands are shaking. I can’t catch my breath. I don't know what
to do. My future will be determined within the next five minutes. I enter the room.
      I signed up for this audition in hope for acceptance into the 2018 San Bernardino County Honor Band. I participated in this band last year and I hope to do so again but before I can know
whether or not I have made it in, I have to go through the completely terrifying five minute audition. This audition consists of playing the prepared selected pieces by the director of this band, two out of all the twelve major scales, one full range chromatic scale, and one sight reading excerpt. I rehearse at home for two hours almost everyday in the weeks leading into the audition; playing the Remington exercise, blowing through some scales, and then the prepared pieces. These rehearsal sessions have been good and I improved something every session.
      I feel confident, but as the last day before the audition arrived, I run through different possible scenarios that could occur. I imagine myself completely fumbling all my scales and somehow dropping my clarinet. I know that I am just psyching myself out and take a quick break. I calm myself down and begin the last rehearsal before the actual day came. I begin with the Remington exercise to warm up my fingers and my instrument. Then, I play scales in different patterns to work on my articulation and scales. Everything is going well so far and so I

decide to play my selected pieces. Nothing sounds to odd from what I have played before and decide to get lots of rest before I am judged by someone else for a chair.
     The time came for me to get ready to leave for the San Gorgonio High School. I brush my hair and put on a dress before I eat breakfast. I feel fine so far and begin to get in the car to leave. I do my best to keep my composure for my mother took me to this audition. I do not want her to see that I am nervous but as my mother, she could tell that I was and in an attempt to make me feel better, she told me to take out my clarinet to practice a little. I did just so but because I was in a moving vehicle, the bumpy freeway caused the clarinet to bounce a little and stab my lip a few times. Because it was making me feel even worse, I decided to stop and just relax until we arrived.
     I had just arrived at the high school and I still remember it from last year. The high school was mainly brown and all pretty spread out as well. I walked to the gym where the sign up table was and I really begin to start feeling the pressure. I see a few of my friends and I greet them in an attempt to not fall apart completely. I set up my instrument and begin to warm up a little. Everything is alright and so I ask a friend to name a scale so I can practice. I begin to play one and my fingers froze and then fumbled and I am terrified all over again. But I have to keep going and just “trust my fingers” as my clarinet coach has told me before. I don’t want to over work my ombuchure so I stop, drink some water, and decide to look for the room that I am suppose to be auditioning in. It was chilly when I walked outside and since I was wearing a dress and wasn’t used to it, I begin to shiver and hope that my finger do not get to cold when I have to play. Inside the building, I am not allowed to play and so I walk down the long hallway to find

my room trying to remember everything that i had been told. I stand outside the door and wait for 1:50.
     At last, 1:50 has arrived and the judge opens the classroom door and beckons for me to go in. I slowly begin to make my way inside and then hear the door slam shut behind me. My heart is pounding. My hands are shaking. I can’t catch my breath. I don't know what to do. My future will be determined within the next five minutes. I feel like I have been trapped but the judge in the room reminds me that I can take my time and I begin with the scales. The first scale went smoothly but the second had a little hiccup on the way down and I begin to feel embarrassed. I then play my chromatic scale upon request and I feel more confident again. It then comes time for my prepared excerpts and luckily, they decided to only play the first and third excerpt which happen to be the easier of the three. I am then asked to play a sight reading excerpt and it was good until the very last note because I played the wrong note but as I looked at the judge, they seem to not have noticed so I play the right note and at last the audition is over.
     I do not completely remember what had happened the next day to be honest but now I have to wait for the results to be released within the next week or so.
     Finally, the results have been released and to my relief, I have been chosen among fifty to participate in this band and I am really glad that my clarinet coach had told me to “trust my fingers.” If he did not, I think that I would have messed up even more and I realize now that I should believe in myself more often and not worry about everything so much.

"Memories" by Paul A

 

     One of the many things I will forever remember from my high school experience is joining Etiwanda High School’s marching band. I learned many important aspects of life throughout my freshman to senior year in the band. As a freshman I had no clue what life was going to be like and how difficult the courses would be. I did not know as many people as I should I have because I was a total introvert. So as a resort, I joined the marching band. My very first year joining was a huge blur but I do remember meeting new people and learning many things about high school. I remember on my very first overnight trip with the band, Seniors were initiating freshman room to room. From remotes going into wrong places, fat wedgies, and clogged bathtubs, this struck fear into me but a weird sort of excitement. My roomates and I started to hide our belongings and try our best to avoid our demise. Luckily, they never reached our room and relief swept through us. I also remember my first banquet night when I became drum major. I auditioned for the spot but I had little faith I was going to be selected since I was only a freshman. As the positions were being announced I grew more and more anxious. My button-up grew tighter every second. Sadly, our director did not call out my name and I felt myself melt into my seat. However, at the very last minute our director said he saved to announce the very last drum major position until the very end. I heard my name be called out and I felt the surge of happiness. I walked up to accept the award feeling proud. This year within the band taught me love. 

     The following two years of band were the longest seasons for me. The practices seemed to last a lot longer, the responsibilities began to pile up, and to add on to that, we received a new band director. The transition was difficult for many of the members but it did not matter to me. I

remember having to face many difficult situations and having to diffuse them myself. My job was getting harder and harder. Along with my responsibilities as drum major, I had to balance my academic life. Sophomore year was a breeze however, junior year was the worst. I had to learn how to manage my time properly and manage my stress levels. With the assignments piling up and the difficult responsibilities, I wanted to quit band. Certain members irritated me everyday and made me question how can their IQ be so low but I had to hide that all. I wanted the stress to disappear so I could relax. I remember during the band’s overnight trip to Utah I had to lead warmup. One of the kids decided to critique my conducting and say how poor of a job I was doing out loud. I felt my ears get red, my fists clench, and my head about to explode. However, I was unable to do anything because I had to act professional. My sophomore and junior year definitely taught me patience. 

     Though my sophomore and junior year were the most difficult, my senior year in band was the most time-consuming and grueling season. Coming into this season, I had very low hopes of achieving any high placement at competitions. However, as the season progressed, the band surprised me and we started to place very high. This was due to the amount of effort and time members had to sacrifice for practice. This season had the most practice hours and longest rehearsals. Some days it felt like rehearsals would never end but the work was paying off. Finally, championships came around and I felt nervous. Many thoughts went through my head that night. All my four years has led up to this final performance. This was going to be my very last show. I was nervous that I would forget all the important things. I did not want to make a mistake. During warm up, my palms started to feel sweaty, my knees became weak, and my arms became heavy. I thought about the multitude of hours we had to practice this season and how

much effort the entire band put in. We then performed our show for the very last time in front of the thousands of people in the crowd and the judges. After the performance ended I felt a big wave of relief. I made no mistakes and everyone felt great. Next came the award ceremony in which each band was given a final placement. One by one, the placements were called out. The announcer paused at every name building the tension. The announcer then had to call out the next placement. “And in fourth place....with a score of 94.00....” those few seconds felt like an eternity. My feet dug into the turf and my body became stiff. “...ETIWANDA HIGH SCHOOL!” I felt let down. The band had put in so much time and effort the whole season. Out of the four years I have been in band, this year was not the most talented but the most hardworking and dedicated individuals. In my mind, I believed we deserved a medal. Unfortunately, the judges did not agree. This year taught me pain. 

     Looking back to my freshman year, I am glad I joined the band. I was able to learn many important aspects of life such as leadership, love, patience, and pain. Though my final year did not go as expected, I am proud of the entire band and how much we were able to accomplish. I do not regret joining band as much as I thought I would but I am glad I persevered and finished all my four years.

"The Bees" by Kaili F

Day 1: I woke up early today. The air smells crisp and fresh. Thousands of others like me wake
up now, too. My home gets loud now. I want to go out right now. No need to change my clothes before I go. I zoom out and find that the Sun is up and the birds are waking as well. The world is beautiful and so bright and full of potential. I zip past the trees and the pond and find a flower patch. They are gorgeous; bright red and yellow and pink and purple. I go in for a whiff. They smell amazing. I'm so glad I live in this world. I wish I could take the flowers home with me but if we all did that, there'd be none left. If we have no flowers, the world would be so dark and gloomy and there'd be no pollination and everything would just fall apart. But that's not going to happen. Every creature on this Earth protects it. 

Day 2: Good morning world! Today, I'm going on an adventure. I’m going to go out as far as I can and see new places and find more pretty flowers. My journey will be exciting. 

Day 3: It was amazing! I saw tulips and roses and tulips. Everything was so bright and pretty! But I saw something... something strange... it was some massive creature that I've never seen before. It had giant feet and huge hands. It held something that looked sharp, and was coming right to my forest. It stopped moving when it got dark and then I couldn't see it anymore. I'll go and investigate more tomorrow. Maybe I'll make a new friend! 

Day 4: I camped out all night so I could be ready to look for the creature. It came out again when the sun came up. Maybe the creature is some type of sun creature? It appears to based its life around the sun. It looked up and saw the sun above head and then began eating. Then, when the sun left, it slept. Today it came into the forest. It looked around at all the trees and animals then left. I tried to follow but it moved to fast. 

Day 5: The creature came back again today, this time with more creatures just like it. They were all giant with sharps things in their hands. This time though, they didn't look. They hit the trees with the sharp things as hard as they could. I tried to stop them, I really did. I went up to them and yelled at the top of my lungs for them to stop hurting the trees. I don't understand why they’d do this to the trees; they are so big and green and pretty. The trees would never hurt them. But they didn't care. They ignored my screams and kept hitting. The trees started to fall and they took them away. All that's left of them is a sad stump. They didn't take all the trees though. I'm scared they will be back tomorrow though to take more. I have to stop them somehow. 

Day 7: I traveled all night to get home. I got all my friends and family and we all went to the place where I saw the creature. By the time we got back, it was morning. The sun was up, the birds were chirping, but those trees that were stolen didn't get to enjoy it with us. We saw a

swarm of creatures coming towards our forest. They still came with their tree hurting objects. Some of my friends wondered how we could stop them; they were massive. When they arrived, they immediately began to kill the trees. One by one, they fell. We all screamed and yelled, begging for them to stop. They stopped but only long enough to swing their tree killers at us. That didn't stop us, we kept bugging them but with no success. I see my best friend get on the monster's shoulder and stab him. We all froze in shock. None of us had ever hurt anything so why now? But then, the monster shrieked. He screamed and started swinging at us in rage. Luckily, the pain was too much for him and he left. We all looked around at each other and knew what must be done. We charged at the monsters and though they tried to hit us away, we were too fast. We all stabbed them and watched as they screamed and fled. Our forest is safe now. And so are we, the bees.

“Gold Necklace” by Charlene S

Bing. “We are now ready for taking off”, the pilot said. I took a breath and closed my eyes as the lights dimmed down. For the first time after a while, I decided to leave behind the stress that was pulling me away from people who could not continue holding my hand for a while. The stitches that failed to piece me back together will be forgotten in a letter that may never be read.  Silently, I prayed that being 7,000 miles away from mental chaos will help me find my lost souls and I drifted into slumber. 15 hours later, I opened my eyes under the night sky of a different set of invisible constellations. It was December 23rd, 2017 in the U.S. but in Manila, Philippines, it was already Christmas Eve, 23:11.

My heart dropped as the door of the van opened to Lipa City, Philippines. Light rushed in through the opening and reached my dark corner. A few steps out and I'm already bombarded with unfamiliar faces I’ve seen from Facebook happily greeting me at the same time. Nervously, I smiled and spoke my greetings. Hola. I wanted to make a good impression but I guess I was so awkward that I ended up speaking in Spanish. It was one of those cases that ended up happening with no coherent reason. Regardless, they all laughed with me and they guided us into their gray, small house that had family history written all over. Up the creaky stairs, I was able to give the best Christmas surprise for my Lola and hold her tight in my puffy jacket. If it weren’t for her visiting the U.S. 2 years ago with an inability to speak English, I probably would not have attempted learning Tagalog nor embrace my accent. The night ended pleasantly as I was able to connect with cousins I barely met with my American-Tagalog tied tongue. Fortunately, Jet lag lost the battle to my physical exhaustion. I drifted away in a deep slumber with a feeling of sunbeams warming up my winter.

Three days had passed and I was already amazed by my cousins’ simple lifestyles. Celebrating Christmas with them became one of the liveliest I’ve had in years. The Tagalog phrases I exchanged with my relatives was not been grammatically correct nor was their English perfect. However, every time we laugh over our inside jokes, tell stories or embrace when departing, we would always forget about our different tongues. Unfortunately, right after Christmas, I woke up with sweaty, burning hands and a voiceless body with throbbing pains from my head to my throat. The pain led me to an emergency bed under the sick scent of blood, sweat, and germs behind the green curtains. It was disappointing having a throat infection in the wrong place and the wrong time out of all the other days I could've been sick. However, the disgusting antibiotics did not barricade my enjoyment there. 

The adventures I had with my cousins from one province to another was unforgettable. They helped me realize that there was more to just waking up with bug bites and smelling the polluted air under the humidity with bathroom inconvenience. On New Year's Eve, we visited the farm of trees and land that illustrated the colors of my dad's childhood. We had a long walk under the shade of palm trees and encountered dangerous dogs and friendly neighbors. With my left black converse shoe slightly covered with dry mud, I ran up the hill of tall grass. Ahead of me, I saw the view of the mountain’s faded outlines as the sunlight touched the light-green sea of nature below it. Seeing a whole different painting I would never see back here left my jaw dropping in bittersweet admiration. If only I was given more time.

Serene clear, blue water of Coron, Palawan, Views of quiet volcanoes of Tagaytay and crowded mall trips at SM reached the final page of the book. It came in a flash and every moment increased my anxiety as each grain of sand in the hourglass fell to the bottom. The gold necklace they gave me as a goodbye gift continued to link every moment I have with them so I wouldn’t forget. As every last picture gets taken, my eyes slowly began to sweat tears that eventually released a waterfall as I saw my relatives beginning to cry. I could barely breathe in my own ocean of tears and I hugged each of them, thinking that they are going to disappear once I let go. I found myself under a group hug and I for once didn’t mind the scent of their sweat that kept making me cry even more. Before I know it, I was in the van waving at them as the door closed.

The fresh canvases I painted in my head overpowered the monotone colors of my art gallery once again. Despite that it was quite painful to leave right when the roots of our foundation deepened, the memories I had with them continues to motivate me to persevere and maintain my optimistic personality no matter the difficulty. Until now, I continue to wear the golden necklace that had me promise to wear most of the time as a reminder of my family back home.

"The Redeye" by Aaron S.

On the floor, she looks up and sees the gigantic shadow and the man fighting... 

She began to reminisce of the peaceful bygone days. 

She grew up in a small village deep in the forest, mostly isolated from contact with the empire. This village was renowned for its ability to produce hunters who stood at the pinnacle of their kind. The village who was able to tame wild beast and become allies with them. No matter what foul beast the hunters needed to pursue, they subjugated their prey triumphantly. Her name was Linde and she grew up under the tutelage of her master Z’aanta. 

One day, the king of the empire had encountered an abominable beast that seemed like it clawed its way out of the depths of hell. The king reluctantly sent out his men to slay the beast, but these men had become stone. The king feared for his empire and had believed that the people from the secluded village were able to slay this unfathomable monster. He sent an envoy to the village that was given to their most dextrous hunter, Z’aanta. Z’aanta accepted the quest and then took several of his best hunters to slay the beast. No word has come from master Z’aanta and Linde becomes worried. 

She knows that his longest hunt has only ever taken 1 year and several months. She begins to talk to her companion, Kliff. 

“Do you honestly think something has happened with master?” Kliff growls in a downcast manner.
“I think it’s time we go an look for him.” 

She proceeds to exit the house, then a ground-shaking roar is let out. Nearly falling to the floor, Linde stumbles out of the cabin. She encountered the monster. She suddenly realizes the truth, that her master was defeated. The village has been engulfed in blue flames, the creature slaying everything in its sight. Linde goes back into her cabin and grabs her equipment. She exits and finds that the monster had somehow fled already. 

She becomes infuriated and begins her quest to hunt the monster that had bested her master.

She traveled to the empire’s capital in order to meet the king. Fortunately, she was granted an audience with the man and had learned that her master had traveled towards the north. She then headed north of the empire. Encountering several clues on the whereabouts of her master. There Linde had met an old acquaintance of Z’aanta and herself. Her name was Atalanta and she had known that Z’aanta had embarked on the quest as she had housed Z’aanta for a few days. Atalanta told Linde that he had went to the west in order to pursue the beast. And with that said, she traveled to the west.
While they were venturing through the mountains, she spots traces of the monsters footprints. Linde follows the markings and finds her master. She started to weep... Her master and her fellow huntsman had been turned into stone. She hugs Kliff in despair. Moments later, an arrow falls from the trunk of a tree. There was a note attached to it written by her master. She reads, “I fear I have little time for this world. My legs have been turned to stone already. Linde, I know you will come out to look for your foolish master. It is not wise for you to track this creature Linde. There is a very old companion of mine down in the far south east. His name is Marsalim and he will be able to aide you on your quest. I hope you can truly forgive this foolish master of yours...” 

As with the newfound knowledge Linde had gained from finding her master, she makes for the south, the land of the deserts. She finds the city where she would meet with Marsalim. Linde begins to ask around if anyone knows the location of Marsalim and some kind pedestrian advises her that he would be drinking in the bar. She heads over and of course, she finds the target. 

He questions her, “I don’t have any money to spare... wait who are you?” She replies swiftly, “I am the pupil of your former companion Z’aanta.” 

He says, “Z’aanta? I haven’t heard from him for 3 years now. How’s he doing?”

Linde woefully responds, “My master has been turned into stone by the creature known as Redeye.” 

Marsalim began to show a slight discomfort with her words.
He says nothing for a short period of time and then sternly asks, “Where is the Redeye?” 

Linde replies, “I believe that it’s near this city.”

Marsalim nods his head and pauses to think for another moment.

He states, “Let me get some equipment and then we can converse about how we defeat the monster.”

They then head towards the ruins of the Sunlands.
There they find traces of the beast and a small camp right outside of the ruins. They enter it and see several men turned into stone. They find a path leading deeper into the cave and follow through it. They see the horrid beast demolishing the foolish men who dared to challenge it. 

Marsalim then hands over an amulet.
He explains, “That amulet has the power to negate the power of the beast.” 

Time continues from where it stopped
She refuses to lose and ignores the pain. Looking at her companion and Marsalim. She grabs her sword and returns to the fight... 

The beast has succumbed to the mighty hunters. It is laying down in pain. Marsalim exclaims, “You have taken too much, repent for your actions!”

The beast achingly roars. 

Marsalim and Linde begin to let out a thunderous shout and simultaneously cleave the Redeye’s head off. Standing there, they let out a sigh of relief. Linde drops to the floor and begins to cry. She had finally avenged her master. They exit where they fought the beast and then they hear some men yelling. They rush over and they see that it was the people who were turned to stone. Linde immediately thinks that this curse that was casted upon her master was lifted. She lets Marsalim know and returns to her demolished village. 

And she finds the one she had thought she had lost...

"Good Samaritan" by Katy O

      It all started at driving school. I know right! Who’s parents would make their kid actually
go to driving school instead of taking online classes? Well, mine did. But anyways, back to the matter at hand. It was just the usual day of driving class during Spring Break of 2017. I would sit in the small, cramped classroom and get lectured on why it’s dangerous to have your brights on while it’s foggy. Then, finally might I add, the class was dismissed for lunch. We all walked up the street to the nearest food center up the street. I was strolling along the sidewalk minding my own business when I saw this lady with a suitcase next to her. As I took a closer look, I realised that she was homeless. At first, I just saw her as another homeless woman wandering the streets in California. But then, when I got to thinking about it, I had always wanted to help a person in need. It all started from Youtube (classy I know). I would always see these nice and kind-hearted people help out those less fortunate. Some would give the homeless person $100 while another bought an entire house for a man. After seeing those videos, I had told myself that if I ever saw a person in need like that then I would help change their life. So I took this as my chance to change someone’s life. Or at least their day. I ran as fast as I could to the nearest Target to get some food and water for the woman. I couldn’t stop smiling. It got to the point where I felt like my cheeks were about to break off. I felt good. So, I got the food and drinks and put them in my red bag from Etiwanda High School. I walked as quickly as I could down the street and back to where I saw the woman. But when I didn’t see her, my smile instantly faded. I really thought “that would happen to me.” As in, “I really could’ve helped someone but instead they left” type of deal. At least, that’s what I thought. I started walking down the hill slowly and I imagine that I looked something like a dog with its tail between its legs because that’s just how disappointed and sad I felt. Here I was, trying to make a difference and get some good karma, only for it to blow up in my face. This is not how I planned it out in my head. So, as I trudged along the jagged and cracked sidewalk, I pulled my head up to see if I was close to the crosswalk at the end of the street. As I’m looking, I see her. I see the woman that I wanted to help so badly. “Oh heck yes”, was the thought that ran through my head at the sight of the woman with the purple suitcase. Quickly, I sprinted down the street in order to catch up with the lady who was walking away from her shady spot by a tree. My smile from the store returned. I shouted to her, “Excuse me ma’am!” I had to do this a couple of times because I was still pretty far from her. After the second time of calling her, she turned around. She had a look of confusion and a little bit of fear as she probably thought, “Okay, why is this random stranger running full speed at me whilst calling me?” I finally got up to her and introduced myself. I told her my name and that I saw she was under the tree. She explained to me that she was waiting for the next bus but she realised that she doesn’t have the money to pay the fair. Then, I pulled the two salads and water bottles out of my bag and gave it to her. She took all of the items and said, “How did you know I like salads?” I smiled as I replied that it was a lucky guess. She then looked back up at me and asked me if I was with a group. I said no. Then she asked if I was with a church. I said no again. She seemed astonished at the fact that I bought her all of her food and drinks simply because I wanted to. She looked at me and said thank you and my heart just filled with warmth and happiness. I finished the meeting by giving her the $22 dollars in change I had so that she could pay for her bus. We both exchanged “God bless you” and parted ways. I called my mom on the way back to class and told her about the entire exchange. She

said she was happy for me and, as lame as it sounds, I started crying. She asked why and I simply said that I felt good about what I had just done. After the phone call ended, I looked back on all of the things that I have. I have a family, food on the table, a roof over my head, and clothes on my back. I then realised that there are so many people who would do anything to have all of the things I’ve been blessed with. Each and every day, I pray to God and tell him that I’m thankful for all of the things I have ever since that encounter. And as the holiday season approaches and we all get the things we asked for for Christmas, I recommend that we all recognize our blessings and give back to those who aren’t as fortunate. I don’t really know why this memory has stuck with me but I’m glad it did. It taught me to always be grateful and never take things for granted. And that, ladies and gentlemen, was my good samaritan act of the year.

"What is Done is Done" by Johnny D

I woke up for my first day of work while it was still stark black
outside, whether from anxiety or excitement who knows. I showered and found my uniform, green and red garb with a jingle bell hat. I hopped in my car and
headed to my new job I was already running late. When I arrived I was greeted
by a tall very upset man in a red suit. The man staggered 3 feet above me,
which isn't that hard considering I am 2’8 and he was not happy, I was late. He skipped introductions since we were already running behind and said, “I don't have time for your excuses” as I tried to apologize this was not starting off well. He was showing me the facility, where all the toys are made, and my new workstation. I was slaving over my task in deplorable sweatshop like conditions waiting for my break to finally come, and it did. I decided to walk around and explore my new workplace when I stumbled into a room I shouldn't have. I entered the room and saw elves being tortured in order to steal their magical blood and tears, but, why? My head began to spin and all the blood rushed
to my head, but I knew one thing for sure I had to find that man in the red
suit. I began to run faster and faster searching everywhere the more I searched the worse the atrocities got and the less and less innocent the toy shop
became. I began to feel as if I was being watched and followed, but there was no one there or was he, he always knows when you've been bad or good? I saw him and I knew I needed to confront him. I asked him about the awful sight and he

called it “a necessary evil in order to keep business running” and to “not take it personally” in a fit of rage I grabbed my screwdriver from my pocket and lunged at him. After what felt like eternity I stopped bloody and exhausted and stood over the lifeless corpse of none other than Santa Clause.

"How to Fix a Sprinker" by Ivan L

            Have you ever been mowing your lawn when suddenly you hear a large crack? You then proceed to turn off your lawn mower and investigate what has occurred. To your surprise, you just hit a sprinkler and now you must fix it before the scheduled sprinkler activation. Do not fear, these instructions will teach you how to repair any sprinkler regardless of where it is located on the lawn.

           

            First, you must isolate your house from the water supply that runs underground. To do this, simply locate a green plastic cover on your lawn labeled “irrigation control valve” or something similar to “master valve.” Pull off the cover and there should be a red lever. Turn the lever counter-clockwise until it stops. Congratulations! You have successfully cut water flow to the sprinkler system. (Bonus: you now know what one of the underground boxes at your house does, even though it has been there the whole time you have occupied the house.)

           

Now it is time to remove the broken sprinkler. Grab some garden gloves or other thick gloves that provide both protection while still allowing enough mobility of your hand. If the cap of the sprinkler is still in one piece, unscrew it. The nozzle spring and check valve should all come out with the cap if they are still there. If the cap is not present, remove any of the parts inside the body and then proceed to the next instruction.  Now, grasp the body of the sprinkler and twist counter-clockwise until the entire unit comes out. (Warning: If you do not have gloves, you risk cutting your palms on the threads of the top of the body. This step can be done without gloves, but any cuts received will be like long papercuts.) (Note: It helps to squeeze the sprinkler while you twist as this deforms the sprinkler giving you more grip, so your hand does not slide around the sprinkler.) (Note:  If you are unable to grasp the sprinkler firmly, try using a small shovel to remove dirt from around the sprinkler. This allows you to grab more of the sprinkler. Feel free to dig as far as you want keeping in mind that any mess you make, you need to clean up.)

After you pull the sprinkler unit out, check around the body to see if the label is still in one piece. If you are still able to read the label, it should tell you the height of the sprinkler and the angle of the spray. Now you just need to go to your nearest home improvement store and purchase a sprinkler that matches these dimensions. If the label is not legible, because the sprinkler is old or because you chopped it off, you must take extra steps to ensure you purchase or have the right replacement. To determine the height of the replacement, simply compare your broken sprinkler to potential replacements. To determine the angle of the spray, look on the top of the nozzle of the sprinkler. There should be indents along the circumference of the nozzle indicating where the water comes out. (Example: If the indents are formed so that they cover half of the circumference, this represents a 180-degree spray angle.) It helps to take the sprinkler with you before throwing it away so that you do not need to memorize its dimensions when you shop for the replacement.

After you successfully purchase or find a replacement, it is time to put the sprinkler back in its place. This part will be easier if two people are present. (Note: At least one of you must know how to manually turn on the specific sprinkler zone that the broken sprinkler was in.) (Warning: The person who does not know how to activate the sprinkler manually will most likely get very, very wet in this next step.) First turn the irrigation control valve back on so that the sprinklers can turn on. The person who is activating the sprinklers must be on stand-by while the other mentally prepares themselves to get hit in the face with the pressurized water. (Optional: Wear a bathing suit.) The person who is screwing the sprinkler back into place must signal the other to activate the sprinklers. This will send a jet of water into the air. The sprinkler must be screwed in while the water is running. (Note: Be sure to screw clockwise as you can get disoriented when getting hit in the face with an unrelenting stream of water) This may take a few tries but eventually you will be able to screw the sprinkler back on. The purpose of this step is to flush out any dirt or contaminants out of the piping so that no clogging occurs in the future. (Note: If only one person will perform this step, they must both activate the sprinkler and replace the broken one.)

When you are sure the sprinkler is attached correctly, turn the water off. Remember the indents on the cap must be aimed in the proper direction so the water hits the lawn. (Note: Unless of course, the angle is 360 degrees. If so, skip this step) To reorient the sprinkler so it is aimed in the correct direction, get a flat head screwdriver (Note: it looks like a minus sign, not a plus sign), wedge it in between the nozzle and the cap and push on the handle of the screwdriver so that it lifts the nozzle up, grasp the nozzle with your hand and turn it so that the indents are pointed in the direction you wish the water to go. When you have finished, activate the sprinklers to check the functionality of everything. Now you can go do whatever else is on your agenda.