Marigolds Mira Singh Indian-United World College of South East Asia, Singapore (2nd Place)
Most of the world had spiralled out of control. Unemployment was soaring, markets had collapsed, and the number of deaths that occurred as each day went by became almost too unbearable to hear. People were losing their homes, jobs, wealth, loved ones. It was chaos. Getting the cure for the virus anytime became a wishful fantasy for most people, and many believed one couldn’t be found in the next decade. So did I. But, I’ve learned from my parents that there is always one thing that is stronger than fear. It’s hope. I like to think of hope as a star. You don’t always see it but it’s there. Even in the bleakest of circumstances, there’s hope. The hard thing is finding it. My name is Aadya and this is the story of how I helped find the cure for the coronavirus. The heat from the sun seeps through the curtains of my window as I lie in bed. A few birds are fussing about an old oak tree that has seen far better days. I get up groggy as my eyes adjust to the light. I let out a sigh as I check the time on my phone. It’s too early in the morning. I should probably get back to sleep but I know it will be foolish to even try. Instead, I stare at the birds making their nest and wish that I too could grow wings and fly far away from this stuffy room. Being confined at home for so long has taken a toll and sometimes I even pretend that the virus never existed. Pretend that millions of people haven’t lost their jobs. Pretend that everything is right in the world. Just then, something catches the corner of my eye. Orange-yellow petals in the bright sunlight. Marigold petals. I remember planting the seeds around a few weeks ago. Before this lockdown started. It’s crazy how much has changed since then. I smile and my spirits are immediately lifted. A sign of hope amongst all the doom of the past few weeks. My drowsiness evaporates and I suddenly feel wide awake. I jump out of bed and tiptoe quietly across the hallway to not wake up my parents. They’re probably asleep and waking them would mean not being allowed to check on my beautiful marigolds. But I keep sneaking out because gardening has become my escape from reality. It keeps me sane. I make sure to slip on my gardening boots and wear a sun hat. As I grab it, a wave of nostalgia hits me. My grandfather had given it to me when I was four years old. He got it from his dad when he was a child. My grandfather was the one who got me interested in gardening. I remember playing board games with him every day and being read stories at night. He was passionate about botany and taught me about different types of flowers. Every week he would