Stories Archive - Page 40 of 108

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Rosalino’s Dog

By Andrew Shannon, Illustrated by the author

Published December 21, 2016

Amy

By Katie Fister, Illustrated by Lainey Guddat

Published December 21, 2016

I can still remember the day I met my best friend. I rode my bike past her house a few days after she had moved in. The afternoon air was clear and crisp, and a...

Reb’s Secrets

By Zoe Paschkis, Illustrated by the author

Published December 21, 2016

Guts and a Few Strokes

By Eve Asher, Illustrated by Alicia Betancourt

Published December 20, 2016

Another Day

By Lily Beaumont, Illustrated by Holly Wist

Published December 20, 2016

I can remember so clearly the day when my troubles began. I was thirteen years old, and it was the spring of 1665. It was unnaturally warm for Madrid, but I loved the sun. I...

Saving Frizbee

By Lyra Mulhern, Illustrated by Stephanie Andriulli

Published December 20, 2016

Daddy had said today would be our special day together. We would have gone to the movies and had pizza, but no, he was off rescuing yet another animal from its abusive owners. Couldn't he...

Lost Friendship

By Zhang He, Illustrated by Isabel Kimmelfield

Published December 20, 2016

Whenever I see Joanne, I always notice the red scar on her beautiful long legs. Although it was just a small scar, it seemed so noticeable on her feminine and beautiful legs. Joanne is the...

This Is the Life

by Rebekah Carbajal, Illustrated by Joe Lobosco

Published December 20, 2016

"Brandon! Brandon, can you weed the flower bed in the front yard?" Mom called from the kitchen. I let out a groan. "Aw, Mom, please don't make me! I had to go with Dad to...

Feelings Towards a Bear

By Max Strebel, Illustrated by the author

Published December 20, 2016

I was playing with them, actually playing with them. They were just like Dad's rug, but my size, and alive! I cuddled in their soft black fur. Their padded leather paws threw me and I...

Kisses from Cécile

By Marie Agnello

Published December 20, 2016

Rosalino’s Dog

Story Published December 21, 2016 By Andrew Shannon, Illustrated by the author

This is a story about my great-grandfather's dog. This story takes place in Mexico in the town of Tampico, where my great-grandfather, Rosalino Dominguez, had been trying to get land for poor people, but that was against the government's laws. My grandmother told me, "The only time he had ever cried was when he had to leave his dog." The dog's name was Pinto, and in Spanish that means spotted.

Amy

Story Published December 21, 2016 By Katie Fister, Illustrated by Lainey Guddat

I can still remember the day I met my best friend. I rode my bike past her house a few days after she had moved in. The afternoon air was clear and crisp, and a few fluffy white clouds danced over my head in the breeze. There had been a storm that morning, so the essence of rain swept softly over my skin, and stray drops of water hung from the trees. I noticed her horse right away.

Reb’s Secrets

Story Published December 21, 2016 By Zoe Paschkis, Illustrated by the author

“Mother, don't," I shrieked. Mother looked at me and opened her mouth threateningly. "Rebecca, you'll wake everybody up!" "I like this side," I said quickly, stroking the dark yellow cotton. "Yes, but you know that your grandmother made that quilt and when she arrives, she'll want to see the patchwork side up. Say you had quilted a beautiful patchwork and then backed it with a solid color.

Guts and a Few Strokes

Story Published December 20, 2016 By Eve Asher, Illustrated by Alicia Betancourt

Stroke. Stroke. Breathe left. Straight legs, follow through with the arms. These are usually my thoughts while swimming the hundred-meter freestyle. For those of you who don't know, that's two laps. I can do it in about a minute and twenty seconds, sometimes more, sometimes less. Oh, and my name is Sophia, been swimming for five years in that very pool, been on the team for three years.

Another Day

Story Published December 20, 2016 By Lily Beaumont, Illustrated by Holly Wist

I can remember so clearly the day when my troubles began. I was thirteen years old, and it was the spring of 1665. It was unnaturally warm for Madrid, but I loved the sun. I was sitting outside near the garden, reading a wonderful book. In our flower beds, a bright array of color burst forth. Tulips, crocuses and irises all stretched their delicate petals toward the sun.

Saving Frizbee

Story Published December 20, 2016 By Lyra Mulhern, Illustrated by Stephanie Andriulli

Daddy had said today would be our special day together. We would have gone to the movies and had pizza, but no, he was off rescuing yet another animal from its abusive owners. Couldn't he have waited until tomorrow? I walked outside and sat on the porch. I guess he couldn't have waited. The poor animal was probably in terrible condition, judging by the rest of the animals Daddy and I had rescued.

Lost Friendship

Story Published December 20, 2016 By Zhang He, Illustrated by Isabel Kimmelfield

Whenever I see Joanne, I always notice the red scar on her beautiful long legs. Although it was just a small scar, it seemed so noticeable on her feminine and beautiful legs. Joanne is the prettiest girl in my class. She has deep chestnut hair that she can flick about her face and shining crystal eyes glittering behind her little spectacles. We had been the best of friends, until one day . . .

This Is the Life

Story Published December 20, 2016 by Rebekah Carbajal, Illustrated by Joe Lobosco

"Brandon! Brandon, can you weed the flower bed in the front yard?" Mom called from the kitchen. I let out a groan. "Aw, Mom, please don't make me! I had to go with Dad to the store in that stupid backfiring car. Can't I rest a little?" "But it looks sloppy, and Mrs. Kelly is coming over for coffee and a chat this evening," my mom pleaded. "Can't Chris?" I asked in my most faked tired voice.

Feelings Towards a Bear

Story Published December 20, 2016 By Max Strebel, Illustrated by the author

I was playing with them, actually playing with them. They were just like Dad's rug, but my size, and alive! I cuddled in their soft black fur. Their padded leather paws threw me and I fell, laughing. We rolled into each other and onto each other. And their big round eyes looked at me, comfortingly. They felt the same way towards me as I felt towards them.

Kisses from Cécile

Story Published December 20, 2016 By Marie Agnello

Do you think that it's possible to love someone you have never met? Is it possible to love someone who lived and died before you were even born? Cécile Cosqueric, a sixteen-year-old girl living in Paris, France in 1919 is whom I'm talking about. I believe her life was meant to touch mine. I am a twelve-year-old American girl, living in Atlanta, Georgia in the year 2002.

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