Period 1 vignette

Page 1

Alfonso

I’m sitting on the school bus going back to the house. QuickTime™ and a decompressor are needed to see this picture.

Not home. I ain’t got no home. I’m thinking ‘bout things, like I do most days, about the accident where I lost my mom. It was back in Spain was when it happened, only three months ago. I was walking home after my big end of the year tests, and my mom is walking

towards me, real happy ‘cause she sure I passed them tests, and she’s crossing the road, and then all of a sudden a big black truck comes ‘round the corner and hits her dead on. She went flying, straight up and back, and the car just kept on going. I called 911, but the police never caught the driver. Hit-and-run, they called it. And for my mom, soon as they got to the scene, they told me there was no hope for her. Gone in an instant. A week after that I left, couldn’t bear being back at that school with that road and that house, so I came to Cleveland that very week, to live with my uncle Paco. He came a year or two earlier, after losing his job back in Spain, after hearing all the talk that money and work came easy in America. Hasn’t been working out too good so far. So now this is my new life, going to school, coming back to the house, and looking out the bus window. But then I saw the garden. It was just a quick flash of brown and green, that first day, since I was on my bus. But here in Cleveland, green is as rare as money, and we didn’t have a lot of money.


So the next day, Saturday, I decided to check it out. I went walking down the block, and there it was. It was a big lot. It used to be empty but now many people were growing every kind of plant imaginable. I see lettuce, tomatos, eggplants, pumpkins, beans, and hundreds of different types of flowers. The smell was so strong, that I almost fell over. After only a few months in Cleveland, I was already so used to the dirty, unclean smell of the city streets, that the fresh smell of the garden hit me hard. Those first few days, I just watched. I found that I could understand many of the gardeners pretty well, a lot spoke Spanish, and even more spoke English, which, after a year of taking it as a second language in Spain, I found I could understand pretty well even though I couldn’t speak much myself. I had no money to buy seeds for planting, but after a week or so of hanging with the gardeners, I became sort of friends with some of them, and they pooled their money to buy me a shovel and a few packets of seeds. At first, when I came here, everybody seemed distant, cold, and unfriendly, but now I realize that not everybody is like that. The friendliness is there, just beneath the surface, waiting for something to let it out. That something is the Gibb Street Garden. I planted my seeds the very next day. I had many kinds of flowers, in memory of my mother, and a couple of orange trees. I loved oranges, back in Spain. I ate them every day, getting every last bit of juice from each section. The flowers came up quickly, looking even better than on the packets. I was worried about my oranges, though. The packets said five days to a week before a sprout showed, but three weeks later I still had nothing. I was asking around, trying to find out the problem, when this old Spanish guy starts talking about oranges needing heat. It’s 60 degrees.


I started coming every day, each day looking hopefully towards the spot I planted my orange seeds. Each day seeing nothing. Then, in late July, I came down with the flu. Ain’t flu season, don’t know how it happened, but I was in bed for over a week. By the time I was well enough to get back to the garden, it was nearing 85 degrees. After 2 weeks of not being tended, and suffering the heavy heat without water, I was expecting my flowers to be dead. But when I got there I found exactly the opposite. My flowers were blooming. Looks like my new friends have been helping out. But at the other side of my land, I found the biggest surprise of all. My orange trees were 2 feet high. The heat had finally started to work its wonders. They looked healthy and growing. I felt like I could almost see them growing taller while I watched. Two months later, I feasted on oranges.


Brooke By: Alyssa Esposito I hated life and it seemed as if life hated me. When I was 13 years old, my parents got divorced. I lived with my mom and older brother, David. He moved out when he was 18, 3 months after the divorce and left me all alone with my mom and her boyfriend, Bill. Bill made my mom an alcoholic, which ruined my childhood from then on. During the 3 months before she met Bill, she seemed like the perfect mother, but I realize today that it was because she was very uninvolved in my life and I got everything handed to me. She never pushed me like I should've been pushed. It's a shame cause I was a smart kid. But since I had nothing to strive for in school, I never really made anything of my life. When I was 14, I was kicked out of my house by my mom, having nowhere to go because my dad basically disowned me. I thought it was the worst thing that ever happened to me, but it wasn't cause' over time after stealing money from my moms' purse, I was able to pay for the bus to drive me all the way down to Gibb Street to live with my Grandma Charchin. Grandma Charchin was my father’s mother who was a tough, little, old Ukrainian lady. She was shocked to see me because it was spring, but yet thrilled at the same time. I use to stay at her house 3 weeks out of the summer ever since I can remember. During the summer me and Grandma Charchin would go walkin' around the


neighborhood. I never really liked the neighborhood, in my opinion it was a very scary place. I don't know why, but I felt safe with my 4'11'', 76-year-old grandma walkin' by my side. Last summer was different though. We started to see an old alley way clear up by the apartment building across the street from where she lived. One day, we walked by there, but waited till' everyone was gone. Grandma Charchin's eyes lit up like a Christmas tree and gave the most joyful smile I've ever seen. I looked over to what she was smiling at, and a saw what looked like a garden. Now my grandma has told me stories of how her and her mom would plant back in the Ukraine, but she hasn't planted ever since her mother died from the flu, when Grandma Charchin was only 17 years old. So I think, that's why my grandma was so happy but I'm not entirely sure. We investigated for about 10 minutes and then kept on walkin'. The next day, I was shipped back home and haven't really spoken to my grandma since. While I was walkin' up to the house, I remembered the garden. So I turned around, and was happy to see it was still there. One of the first things I asked Grandma Charchin was if she planted anything in the garden. I saw the same smile like when she first discovered the garden, then she said to me “Put your stuff in room, then we take walk and I show you”. She never asked me any questions like what I'm doin' there. But after I settled in, she showed me to the garden. She took my to a solitary corner in the end of the alleyway. I saw buds of what looked like a flower. And I was right, my grandma then told me she had planted Sun Flower seeds like she had planted with her mother back in the Ukraine before she died. I asked if I could plant anything and she said I could. I planted another row of sunflower seeds behind hers.


Watching the seeds grow into plants was amazing. It took my mind off of all the things I had to deal with back home. I started talking and making friends with other people in garden. They treated me like family. Like the family I never had.

Brooke I hated life and it seemed as if life hated me. When I was 13 years old, my parents got divorced. I lived with my mom and older brother, David. He moved out when he was 18, 3 months after the divorce and left me all alone with my mom and her boyfriend, Bill. Bill made my mom an alcoholic which ruined my childhood from then on. During the 3 months before she met Bill, she seemed like the perfect mother, but I realize today that it was because she was very uninvolved in my life and I got everything handed to me. She never pushed me like I should've been pushed. It's a shame cause I was a smart kid. But since I had nothing to strive for in school, I never really made anything of my life. When I was 14, I was kicked out of my house by my mom, having no where to go because my dad basically dis-owned me. I thought it was the worst thing that ever happened to me, but it wasn't cause' over time after stealing money from my moms' purse, I was able to pay for the bus to drive me all the way down to Gibb Street to live with my Grandma Charchin. Grandma Charchin was my fathers mother who was an tough, little, old Ukrainian lady. She was shocked to see me because it was spring, but yet thrilled at the same time. I use to stay at her house 3 weeks out of the summer ever since I


can remember. During the summer my Grandma Charchin and I would go walkin' around the neighborhood. I never really liked the neighborhood, in my opinion it was a very scary place. I don't know why, but I felt safe with my 4'11'', 76 year old grandma walkin' by my side. Last summer was different though. We started to see an old alley way clear up by the apartment building across the street from where she lived. One day, we walked by there, but waited till' everyone was gone. Grandma Charchin's eyes lit up like a Christmas tree and gave the joyfullest smile I've ever seen. I looked over to what she was smiling at, and a saw what looked like a garden. Now my grandma has told me stories of how her and her mom would plant back in the Ukraine, but she hasn't planted ever since her mother died from the flu, when Grandma Charchin was only 17 years old. So I think, that's why my grandma was so happy but I'm not entirely sure. We investigated for about 10 minutes and then kept on walkin'. The next day, I was shipped back home and haven't really spoken to my grandma since. While I was walkin' up to the house, I remembered the garden. So I turned around, and was happy to see it was still there. One of the first things I asked Grandma Charchin was if she planted anything in the garden. I saw the same smile like when she first discovered the garden, then she said to me “Put your stuff in room, then we take walk and I show you”. She never asked me any questions like what I'm doin' there. But after I settled in, she showed me to the garden. She took my to a solitary corner in the end of the alley way. I saw buds of what looked like a flower. And I was right, my grandma then told me she had planted Sun Flower seeds like she had planted with her mother back in the Ukraine before she died. I asked if I could plant anything and she said I could. I planted another row of sunflower seeds behind hers.


Watching the seeds grow into plants was amazing. It took my mind off of all the things I had to deal with back home. I started talking and making friends with other people in garden. They treated me like family. Like the family I never had.

David By: Zachary Winakor Loud horns, tears streaming down my face -yelling, screaming, crying, kissing -- all my emotions were scattered everywhere -ordering not to let me go —- them making me. That is all I remember. I remember looking back on shore at my family waving and crying. I leaned over the railing and shouted goodbye for the final time. I was ready to start a new life. Born in Morocco, I moved to United States. I experienced prejudiced acts against my religion. I am Jewish and people back in Morocco throw stones and hit me with bike chains. I guess they didn’t like my traditions and my reading from the Torah. Many people disliked me, including teachers. They say I was stupid. They did not treat me like other children. My parents forced me to come here. I don’t know how or why I came to the United States. My parents told me it would be best for me. I like it now. There are not many people to talk to though. Well, there are a lot of people; they just act like you not


there. They just brush by you on way to work. I was twenty-two, I didn’t understand. But now I am thirty-eight, twenty-two was long time ago. People just didn’t care. I remember leaving my family behind. I miss their strong, conservative values, but I miss the food the most. The chickpeas were my favorite. You can’t get great hummus in America. They just are not as fresh as when I would go to the garden we had in Morocco. The chickpeas were delicious. My mother would mash them up and add spices to make the most amazing hummus in the world. It was so good; that it was life changing once you tried it. None of my siblings came to America with me. I have not seen them since. They told me there are more opportunities here, and that since I am the youngest I should go. They told me they couldn’t afford to all come. In America, many thing annoy me. One thing is my name. People say Dae–vid, but it pronounced Da-veed. People are used to saying it American way. But, I don’t dare correct them. In Morocco, if I tell them how to say my name the right way, they smack me and laugh. When I move to America, I pass by many small shops and restaurants on Gibb Street, where I live. I never really thought anything of the little garden that seemed to have magically popped up through the rubbish that had once been there. I decided to take look inside. There were many people talking to each other. I walked along the gravel road looking at all the different vegetables and fruits. One man was growing grapes. I ask the leader of the garden that go by the name of Sam, if I could plant something in my own corner of the garden. I knew what I was going to grow. Chickpeas. Just like in Morocco. The next day I set out with my fresh soil, seeds, watering can, and shovel. I choose spot close to the sidewalk next to a tomato garden named “Lateesha’s Garden.” The garden belonged to Curtis. He is a muscular guy, but he is having girl problems. We


talked for a while and I gave him some advice. I had a girlfriend in Morocco. We cannot be together though since I in America. I hope to visit her. I got all my supplies out and got to work. First, I dig a little hole five times. The cool, damp soil feels smooth between my fingertips. I feel like I finally belong. I gently dropped four minute seeds into each hole and water them lightly. I was going to grow my own garden. I met a boy name Royce. He looked scary at first, but I got to know him. He sleep in garden behind the tall corn stalks. I give him food along with others in return for him guarding my garden at night. He also made a nice brick pathway around my garden. He is a really nice kid. My chickpeas are doing great. The stalk is thick and sturdy and I already see signs of the chickpeas. The heat is sweltering. I come to garden every day to check on my plant. It is pain carrying all the jugs of water up here. We decided to use funnels. A lady named Sae Young came up with the idea. She is a nice lady but her English is even worse than mine. I talk to my mom and told her everything. I’m visiting my family in three months. Last night the phone rang. I knew I only had a limited amount of time to talk since I was living only off the money I had been sent with, and off of odd jobs here and there. My parents sent me so I could go to medical school and improve my English. I grew up with many animals. I was planning on going to medical school and becoming a vet. I picked up the phone. I was speaking to my girlfriend Laila. She is the most beautiful girl I have ever seen. Her hair is long and her eyes twinkle every time she smile. I miss her. I blinked and stood there in my apartment motionless. She was coming to America.


EDMOND


I kind of remember my life like a textbook. Exact dates in order. I’m good at social studies. For example-1979: moved to Cleveland. I could list different events for days but the international move was a big thing. I remember it like it was yesterday. My dad and I were stuck back in England for about a month while my mom came to the U.S to find a place to live. We had ourselves a nice place back in the U.K. We even got a pretty decent sized backyard, which is quite unusual for big cities like London. We really lived outside of London, but I think it’s cooler to live in London. My friends back in England used to kid around with me that I live two lives, one in the books and one on the pitch. I was unsure of myself, but my friends were just all out slobs. Their rooms were hideous. Mine was different. And this made me different. Everything had a designated spot. And to make my life even more contradicting, I loved flowers. So basically I was an athletic brainiac who planted flowers and cleaned for a hobby. But to make it in Cleveland, you have to choose one life to live, and I learned that in an interesting way. My dad had a pure obsession with buying flats. Our florist in England sold about 30 assorted flowers for 2 pounds. Then we move to Cleveland, and not only is there no place to plant, but a flat is about 12 dollars. My family sometimes struggled to pay rent, so in no way did we have the money to spend oodles of it on plants. What did help, however, was that our pounds nearly doubled when we converted them to the dollar. We lived in this small apartment on top of a trashy lot. I used to be self conscious of my belongings, but then I didn’t have many friends. So in a way, I didn’t need to worry. When you were to walk into our apartment, however, it felt like a remarkable mansion. We used every possible square inch to make each foot go a mile. I actually


didn’t mind the apartment but I always despised that lot. I could jump out my seven-story window and land on an 8-foot cushion of garbage. I had to make a change. I figured it couldn’t be healthy for you. Every morning I woke up to the smell of rotten bananas and fried chicken from the guardsmen. So, to abolish that foul smell, I planted come Caledonians along my windowsill. They smelt really nice and really lightened up the mood in the room. Then came spring break. I was free to do whatever, but not free to spend money. So I spent my time on the things I do have. But a garden I don’t and that’s what I really want. I sometimes dreamed of doing anything for a garden. I would plant exotic flowers, like the ones you would see in the Bahamas or in Fiji. That very next morning I woke up to a large crash. The nasty man on the top floor threw his garbage out the window and tried to get it on the garden. The only problem was that he through it on a big glass vase, and it all shattered. That was the last straw on the camel’s back. That made me think that something had to be done. I felt like an old lady calling the city hall, but I found out where to go. The next day I would make my way to the Public Health Department. Something had to change. When I walked in the door to the health department, a familiar woman with an extremely familiar scent passed me. All the people in the waiting room were talking about how insane she was. I walked up to the front desk, and the old lady treated me like a 5 year old and asked me if I knew where my mommy was. Then I got upset. I almost yelled at her and demanded to talk to someone. She realized I meant business, but still made me wait for almost 2 hours! And then, when I got into speak with someone from the building, she said someone had beaten me to the punch. I asked for clarification, but


she said she was too busy for this child nonsense and kicked me out of her room. I just went back home, and felt like a denied lowlife. It was a little odd that the next day my alarm clock went off at 7:27, my birthday. There must have been a reason. Then my dog jumped on the scrabble board and out came the words July twenty-seventh. And, to creep me out even more, I spilled Cheerios and I looked at it in a way that it looked like the numbers 7 and 27. I was creeped out. Something had to be up. Then I remembered that I was able to choose one thing for my birthday that I wanted a year, and everyone contributed. But why now, and why so strange? Then it came to me. I wanted exotic flowers. I looked out my window, and my mouth dropped. Last night, the lot was nothing but a nauseating stench of foul potatoes, and today it’s a work in progress! There were men cleaning the garbage! But then I wondered if it was me, or that lady carrying the bag of what I figured out was full of trash from the lot. Whatever it was, we were only in the middle of may, and I had got about another 2 months till those flowers were in my hand. I was so excited that I almost jumped out of my shoes. I was on my way to my “job” where I would help my dad un-stock those veggies. The next week felt like it took a million years to pass. Then, two weeks after my vision, I saw the first sprout of my friend Naomi’s plant. Then came Jamie’s carrots. Within 3 weeks, you saw green emerging from the ground in a civilized garden. It used to be a garbage dump, and now it is what a man said “ a magical wonderland”. I got sick of watching and I wanted in. Jamie said that she would be out of town so I said I would take care of her plants. Then Naomi went out of town. Soon everyone got to know me. They called me a helping hand. All the older people liked the new life


that we brought to the garden. Within 6 weeks from having a vision, I was a major part of this garden that I called a community. I almost forgot about those exotic flowers that I wanted. I was so involved already, that I didn’t really need to plant. But then it struck me. It was July 20. I couldn’t believe how fast all those weeks went. On May 23, says my journal, I saw a couple of green sprouts come out of the ground. Now, nearly 14 weeks into the future, shades of purple and red and green, and even some orange flooded the garden. This showed me something special. It showed me how fast life progressed. When I moved to Cleveland in 1979, it took me about 7 months to make my first friend. Then, by 1980, I think I had 15 friends. Now on July 27th, I have many friends, and a patch of exotic flowers from Fiji waiting on my kitchen counter with a card that read: Happy Birthday Edmond. We know how much you wanted them, so we went on and got you these. We hope you enjoy and have a great time planting! With much love, The Gibb Street Garden.

Jared By: Jonathan Alabre I needed to get home to my apartment soon. At school the teacher had given us a project and


I wanted to get started right away. I needed to ask my mom for help she was the first step to the project. As I walked into my apartment I saw my mom cooking dinner. She asked me about my day and I told her I needed money for school. She looked puzzled so I told her why I needed the money. The teacher had said that we need to buy seeds and plant them in the Gibb Street garden and whoever has the nicest plant wins the secret prize. So my mom gave me the money and I ran to the flower store. When I got to the flower store I wanted to get the coolest plant I could find. I decided to get grape seeds. I like grapes so it would be fun planting. As I was walking home I decided to check out the garden to see what I was dealing with. I crossed the street and walked over to the garden. When I got to the garden I was so surprised. I saw so many different plants and people come together. I was going to go home and eat dinner but I decided to get started eating could I finished planting late at night. I knew I would get in trouble for being out so late wait. that I had to quietly creek through the door. But knowing my parents I don’t know why I thought I would be able to get away with sneaking in. Right when I opened the door they were right there sitting in the living room. My dad gave me a stern look and my mom pointed at my room and yelled get in there. I was about to ask for dinner and desert but they both said no and told me to go to my bed. I woke up thirty minutes right after I fell asleep. I started to think about the garden and how exited I was. I was about to turn on my light and look at the left over grape seeds when my door opened. It was my mom. Shockingly she had a bowl of cereal for me. I said I was sorry and I started to eat my cereal. She said not to tell my father that she brought me cereal and then she told me not to stay out late. My mom


said goodnight to me gave me a kiss and a slap on the back of the head. She then said the next time I stay out late I will really learn what sorry is. About ten minuets after my mother had gone to bed my father had come into the room with a piece of cake. He told me not to tell my mom that he brought me cake. I laughed and said goodnight. He said goodnight and went to bed and I went to sleep too. I woke up the next day to get ready for school I was so exited for first period. I was waiting for science class wandering what my teacher will say about the project. When I got to school the teacher had said that the competition day was in one week. I was really exited now and right after first period was over I was waiting to go back to the garden. When the end of the day bell rang I ran outside strait to the garden and began working. I gave the plants fertilizer and water. I would be repeating this process for the next six days. I am freaking out now. The competition is in one day and I need to make sure my plants are perfect. I had to get ready so I spent the whole day at the garden. At the garden people where giving me tips and instructions on how to plant. I as having so much fun. I started to remember what my mother said about staying out late so I said goodbye to everyone and walked home. When I get home I ate dinner with my family and went to bed. I tried to sleep but I just couldn’t. I just stared and tossed and turned. I was just so nervous. My mom had to come into the room and say Jared you need to get some sleep for your big day tomorrow. She was completely right but I just couldn’t sleep. My mom then told me to sit still and close my eyes. After ten minuets it did the trick. School just ended and the teacher had told us to go to the garden right after school, So I ran all the way to the garden. When my teacher and all the other kids in the


class where at the garden the plant judging began. It took about an hour but the final decision was made. The nicest plants were my little grape vines. The secret prize was a big trophy. I was so happy that I had to run home and show my parents. Jett’s Vignette Jett Stark was from Britain, his parents moved from there to the U.S.A for work related reasons. His parents are both writers who make famous novels and have been in business for several years. Jett has moved several times within Britain and had once lived in Australia for a while. Kay-Lea By: Maya Stennett

In New York it is cold but it ain’t this cold. In Cleveland it is freezing. I never been so cold in my life. I ain’t feelin’ Cleveland I wish is was in New York. Since me and my family moved down I hated this place. My momma hates me so does my papa. I have 5 sisters and 3 brothers. My lil’ brothers and sisters they can care less what I do. I takes care of my lil’ siblings. I defend them. I put my life at risk for thems. One day my brother got in a fight with this big dude with a gun. I fought that big dude till he put down the gun. One day I was walkin’ down Gibb Street and I saw something really weird people were planting plants. I hate dirt its brown jus’ like the color of my skin. The difference is that I work the color brown. Dirt is all dirty and has all type of stuff in it.


When I went back home there was a note on the door, it read, “ Dear Kay-Lea me and your father left this old dumb house and went back to New York. Watch over your brothers and sisters. Take good care of them. Bye Kay-Lea.” I don’t know why my momma and papa left. I don’t like my papa at all, but I love my momma. She gave birth to me and then she leaves me with eight screaming children. My brothers and sisters ask for stuff every day. I wish I can pack my stuff and leave but I will never do that to my brothers or sisters. Taking care of them is horrible I don’t know how parents do this type of work. Including my best friend Maricela. She has a little baby girl and is 16 and takes care if her everyday all day. Well I know that I will never have a baby. That good-bye letter was the last thing I heard from my momma. Cause one month later both of my parents died. When my momma died I was heart broken. I cried for days. I miss my momma so much. My brothers and sisters miss her. After that day I started planting strawberries in the Gibb Street Dumb Garden. I am planting strawberries cause it is my momma’s favorite fruit. I went to the garden one day and I saw that my strawberries were gone. I looked around no one was at the garden yet. Well I know why, it is 5 in the morning. The only person here is Royce. So I asked him if he saw any take my strawberries. He said no. I looked for footprints and saw none. I began to worry. I needed those fruits for a little food. So I decided to stay at the garden that night to catch the theft. That night no one came until 4 am in the morning. Someone came and found a strawberry from my garden. I looked at the person and it was my sister Kimmy. When I came out from the bushes so was so embarrassed. I told her it was okay and that I know why she did that. At least I know who was taking my strawberries.


One month later I had dozens of strawberries. Everyone from the community was asking for a strawberry. My best friend Maricela asked for strawberries for her and her little baby girl. I miss my momma and I will continue to grow strawberries for her. I will always love my momma. I don’t care what she did to me. I still love her.

Kyle I didn’t feel so good. I took a walk outside to get some fresh air. While, walking I passed by a group of people crowded around a boy. I could just barely hear them. They were saying something about how to get water. I took a look at what they were doing. When I


looked at the garden my eyes became large and my mouth dropped open. The garden was the nicest and biggest garden I have ever seen. There were tons of plants. There were tomatoes, lettuce, lima beans and sunflowers. The whole community was crowded around a little black girl. She was giving the community suggestions on how to keep water in the garden. I thought that she had a really good suggestion. She suggested that the water should fall into garbage cans when it rained. Everyone thought that was the best suggestion. It had just stopped raining so the garbage’s were full. They had given me a small little portion of the farm to plant what I wanted. I was from England. I had a small plantation in my farm. My dad worked all day so I had worked on the plantation. So I decided to plant tomato plants. The seeds were as small as a grain of dirt. I planted multiple packed the dirt compact and watered the plants. By the next day the tomato plants were the tallest plant. This was very unusual. These plants were supposed to be planted in 7 days. I spotted something unusual. The garbage cans of water were empty and the whole farm was empty. I looked over at the whole farm and I spotted one person running. It was him. He had knocked over the all of the garbage cans. The guy got away but all of the plants by the next day were gigantic.


Darelle Out of the corner of my eye I saw a car coming zooming at us. My parents and I were heading back to our apartment back in Harlem. Lights everywhere, cops everywhere and ambulances everywhere. At least that’s all I remember. That happened about 4 years ago. I now live in a foster home on Gibb Street. Back in Harlem me and my friends used to light cardboard boxes on fire and ride our bikes through it to see who got burned or not. I could never do that here because there are cops all around here. Life here for me isn’t the greatest. Back in Harlem I was living the best life ever. Now my life sucks. I live in a foster home with nothing to do. After school all I do is take a jog around the neighborhood to get my parents off my mind. My foster parents are poor and they don’t buy me anything, or do anything fun with me. There life is everyday wake up smoke a pack of cigarettes. Come in watch TV go back outside smoke another pack. Then come back in eat go back outside and smoke another pack. The police are in my neighborhood all the time. I hate the police. When I hear the police siren I get scared. I remember when they had told me what had happened to my parents. All I remembered was I saw lights and ambulances everywhere. The police had put me in a hospital. They had told me that my parents were severely injured. They had told me that my dad was paralyzed and my mom got brain damage. They had told me that


my mom needed surgery. Then they told me that she died. They had placed me in a foster home because my mom died and my dad was paralyzed. After school today I decided to go and get a bite to eat instead of taking a jog around the neighborhood. While sitting down this girl walked up to me. I guess she realized I was sad but I honestly wasn’t. She introduced herself and said that her name was Nora. She sat down and we had a chat. I told her about my whole life story. She had explained to me how her patient Mr. Myles had got involved with a garden and it had changed her life. Everyday she was excited and always looking up for the next day to come. So I had told her that tomorrow after school I would stop by and check it out. My mouth dropped open and I had no words to say. I had stopped by the garden. The garden was humongous. I would say there was about 30 different plants planted. There were people from all different cultures. African American, Mexican, American, Chinese, Japanese, Hispanic and Asian. From the moment I stepped in the garden I felt different. I felt like a different person. My whole life was coming back to me. I realized the true meaning of life. I thought it’s not that bad living in Harlem. That night I went home and gave my foster parents a big hug and kiss. They started laughing. That was the first time that I had gave them hug and kiss. They were out side smoking so I went inside and decided on what seeds to plant in the garden. My mom always loved corn, so n her honor I decided to plant cornflower. So that’s what I was going to plant in the garden. I got my cornflakes, a jug of water, a hand shovel and rake and was off to the garden. When I had arrived at the garden it was strange. The whole garden was packed. Everyone was planting, watering and picking. I took a small chunk of the garden, dug


small holes, stuck cornflower seeds in the ground, piled dirt over it and watered the cornflowers. My Mom will be looking down on me smiling and looking that I planted these cornflowers. She’ll know that she’ll always be in my heart and I will never forget her. The one food that my mom loved was apples. So, I also decided to plan some apples. That night I had a discussion with my foster parents. I had told them how I had changed. I had asked them if they could stop smoking. I said that I already lost my mom and I didn’t want to lose them by them smoking. They said that they would considerate it. Within the 4 weeks the apples were sprouting. I had picked the apples and brought them home to my foster parents. I had hoped that they would have listened to me and had stopped smoking. When I had turned that corner and was arriving at my foster home I had smelled smoke. When I had arrived in the driveway I had saw ambulances everywhere, cops everywhere and lights everywhere.

Marcos


Kevin Jimenez My name is Marcos Juan Fernandez and I am an immigrant from Argentina. I came to the United States of America at the age of twenty-two to play baseball. I came with my mother, sister, and grandmother. My mother would always tell me that I had to act like the “man of the family”. I lost my father when I was 15. When I lived in Argentina, my father went to the United States to play baseball too. His name was Daniel Luis Fernandez, he was a pitcher. He was a great pitcher. One night Daniel and his friends snuck out of their training hotel to celebrate Daniel’s welcoming into the MLB. Those who drank wouldn’t drive so Daniel drove home. On their way back to their hotel a drunk driver hit them. Everyone else made it, but my father didn’t. All of their baseball careers were over. Some were paralyzed and could never even walk again. Neither of them could play baseball. When I heard the news, I was devastated. That moment their I promised to myself and my father that I would make it to the MLB for my family. My family moved into Gibb Street. It was a quiet neighborhood; it was just what we needed. On my first day in their new apartment my mother went to work, my sister went to play, and my grandmother fell asleep. I was extremely bored so I grabbed my baseball mitt and baseball and went outside to walk. I was a great pitcher just like my father. My mother would tell people “Not only did he look like him, but also he threw even better than he did.” As I was walking, I came across a brick wall. I marked a bottom strike zone of the brick wall. Then I stood exactly 60 feet and 6 inches away from the wall and then marked a white mound. I pitched the ball and threw a perfect, right down the middle


strike. I knew he was a good pitcher and that I had a chance to make it into the major leagues. My dream was to play in the MLB with the New York Yankees. Luckily for me in that very street pitching scouts were looking for talented pitchers. They also came across the brick wall and found me pitching. They were three old scouts and they were all Spanish looking. One of them came over to me and asked how old I am. I said, “I am twenty two, how old are you”. The old man laughed and asked “do you like the Yankees?” From that moment on I knew I would keep my promise to my father.

Natasha


By Sharon Gobjila I never liked saying goodbye. Didn’t like it when I said goodbye to my uncle before the war. Didn’t like it when I said goodbye to my home back in Russia. And I for sure did not like leaving behind all my friends and family to come to America. Dad says it’s for the best, that we would have a better life here in Cleveland. During the day my little sisters and I have to go to grammar school while both of my parents work. I usually take care of the house and feed them when they are gone. Still don’t get how moving to America is a good thing, because all we have now is work. I am only 12. In a room that I have to share with my 3 little sisters there is a small window. I spend my free time looking out of it. Today it was too hot to move. I stared at the people down in the lot from my window. There were so many different People talking to each other, like old friends! Every time a person joined the garden, there were more plants. They planted things such as simple flowers, eggplants, and lettuce to strange plants like Swiss chard, squash, pumpkins and a weed called “golden rod”. It was interesting how the gardeners didn’t care about all of that hard work, how they seemed happy and determined. I just watched, but a little part of me wanted to do more than just watch. The next day marked the beginning of summer. In Russia we never had summers this hot, so my mom went out to buy us summer clothes. Except Anya and Marie, they will have to wear hand-me-downs until summer ends. My mom can only buy clothes off the sales rack and sometimes at distant yard sales, but she always says that they look like they’re worth a million dollars. Later she also brought me a blue lace ribbon to tie in my blond hair. It looked rare so I decided to keep it. Dad came back from the local grocery


store with little food and a jar of strawberry seeds. “Why did you buy strawberry seeds?” Mom questioned. She became as red as the roses on the table. She continued “What good are seeds when you could of bought real strawberries! To feed all of us!” “I am very sorry, but we couldn’t afford regular strawberries. I thought that we could plant some into the ground and grow our own.” Dad answered back calmly. “How? There is not a drop of soil anywhere!” The conversation continued after we went to sleep. I thought mom had won, but the next morning the seeds were still there. In the morning after breakfast, we said goodbye to mom and dad. Rosa, (my second oldest sister, 10 years old) ran up to me and started pulling on my arm. “Natasha I have an idea!” She said. “ Let’s go outside and plant those strawberry seeds.” “Well-” I began to say, “Where are we going to plant them?” Marie interrupted in. “Let me finish.” I responded “Well we could plant them outside in the lot. A lot of people come there every day.” Rosa had happiness bursting in her eyes. We left shortly with a mug filled with water, a small spoon, and the jar of seeds. A kind woman named Leona helped us plant our seeds. Their leader named Sam let us borrow his tools and told us to use the water in the barrels beside the wall. Soon our strawberries bloomed. An African American boy named Royce protected every one’s garden at night, including our little patch. Marie still thinks that he is dark and dangerous, because he appears that way. On the inside though, he is really friendly. Nobody dared to tell mom and dad. Working in the garden became fun. It brought my sisters and me closer. I didn’t even mind the work, because it was all worth it at the end when the strawberries where ready to be picked. But sometimes it’s okay to get a little help. Like the day Rosa


accidentally ripped the strawberries out too early and the stems began to wilt. If it weren’t for “Tio Juan” a man that did not speak English, than our whole patch would have died! He showed her what strawberry looked like when it was ready to be picked. It was late July and my parents were beginning to wonder where did we get the fresh strawberries. What had really set them off was when I had lost my blue ribbon. Mom was angry that I lost it. But she was more furious when she found out that we have been planting in the garden. She was looking for it in my room when she noticed us through the window. That day we all got extra chores for the rest of week. “This will teach you to never sneak out behind my back and lie about it.” She scolded, “You all should know better.” Anya waited until the end of the week to explain to dad that she had planted his seeds. She whined and begged. “But you have to let us plant! If we don’t than the strawberries would die!” “I’m sorry Anya, but you cannot go to the garden alone. There are too many people there.” Dad replied. “Can you come with us?” “You know I would but I have a lot of work and I always come late.” “Please?” “No Anya, please go to bed. Good night.” “Good night dad.” She said. Late night phone calls tend to disturb you at night. I was wide-awake by the time dad answered it. It turned out to be Sam. He was concerned about my wilting strawberries and that nobody watered them. Dad told him the whole story about my sisters and I and said that we will not be planting anymore. There was a long pause and then Dad hung up. That was it. I felt so upset that we wont be a part of the lot anymore. No more strawberries, No more kind neighbors, no more work. These words buzzed inside my head as I lay in bed. It is late August, and we were all preparing for school. I have hardly looked out the window ever since we were caught. Just baby sitting my sisters and doing regular


chores. Until today, when things were very quite. Curiously, I spied on my sisters. They were staring out the window in our room. All of them crowded around it. Rosa spotted me. “Natasha hurry and look!” She called. I looked. There was our garden, bigger and filled with strawberries! In front of them there was a sign that said ‘The girl’s garden’ and tied around it was my blue ribbon. “Look over there” Anya pointed to a man working on our garden. “Royce!” Marie said. We all stared. It was Royce, and he had brought our garden back to life. I felt happy and part of the garden again. Maybe living in America isn’t going to be so bad after all.

Giancarlo

By Nicholas Petosa


Grapes in Cleveland do not taste as good as grapes in Italy. I grew up on my Papa’s vineyard back in Tuscany. It was a beautiful place to live. It stretched acres in all directions and was home to many fruits and vegetables that he sold at the market, especially grapes. There are no vineyards here in Cleveland. There are just supermarkets. Papa showed me how to turn seeds into grapes and then into wine. I hoped one day that Papa would pass his vineyard on to me. He died in 1950, and so did the farm. The government took it away; they said he owed thousands in unpaid taxes. It felt like the world around me was crumbling into pieces. The government had destroyed my future. Without an education or much money, I headed to America for more opportunities. All I took with me was the hope of success, a sack of Papa’s grape seeds, and a bottle of Papa’s wine. I found just enough money for a plane ticket to Cleveland. The plane ride was long and sad. That was 30 years ago. I never had the chance to work Papa’s land, and never would. My apartment overlooks a vacant lot. I got this room especially cheap because of


the apartment’s location. On the vineyard, sweet smells of squeezed grapes filled your nose and weaved its way through your mind. Here, the vacant lot’s smell of rotten eggs and onions bit at your eyes. You can’t think straight with the garbage anywhere near you. I would complain to the city, but I don’t feel comfortable speaking in front of others. I can just write it. That may also have been the reason why I couldn’t get a job and why I know very few people. I came to America for opportunity, but all I found was loneliness. I felt my dream of being like Papa slipping away. But that was before the garden. When I woke up one morning in early June, I saw men hauling the trash out of the lot and into trucks. I looked around and saw other people staring as well. Were they clearing it for room for a new building? It didn’t matter to me, as long as the smell was gone. Later that day when the men had left, a little Korean girl I recognized from the floor above me and a few others were in the lot shoveling away at the soil with their spades and watering small green sprouts with cups of water. What were they growing in the lot? I pondered on the idea of the garden for a minute. Then, I had an idea that would change my life forever. The little girl and her lima bean plant ignored me as I dug small holes next to their section of the garden. The soil that made up the ground was not at all good for growing anything, but with the proper work, I would succeed. I took out the sack of grape seeds I had taken from Papa’s farm and sprinkled a few in each hole. I covered them up and watered them. I found a few pieces of scrap wood and nailed them together into a small trestle, like the ones Papa’s grapes grew on. The next day, I placed the trestle so it was over the area where I planted my grapes. I knew grapes would take a while to grow, so I was patient. I felt Papa smiling down on me.


I walked to the garden each and every day to tend my grapes. I got friendly with other regular members and waved to them. One man, named Sam, was friendly to all members who felt out of place. After a week, vines poked their heads through the soil. With time and hard work, I could turn these little plants into something amazing, just like my Papa. I saw the Korean girl glance over at my grape saplings every now and then. Every once in a while, we smiled to each other. Not too long after, my vines winded and weaved themselves throughout the trestle. Small, deep purple marbles grew on them. I picked off two of the biggest and sweetest grapes. I handed one to the girl and kept one for myself. She smiled. It tasted like the ones Papa grew on the vineyard. For my first time in America, I was happy. Something other than vegetables and fruits and flowers had taken root in this special garden. It grew friendship.


One day as I was walking home school I stumbled upon a bunch of kids in the park playing kickball I watched them play and then they seen me then they had asked me to play with them I decided to play before 4:45 because that’s when I had to be home and start my homework my team was in the lead as I was about to kick the ball and win us the game my phone rang it was my mom before I answered I asked one of them what time it was the youngest boy with the watch on said 6:45 then I answered the phone my mom was disappointed at me because it was almost pass dinner and it would take me a long time to get there so I knew is was going to be late to dinner I knew I had to hurry. As I was running my called again I couldn’t answer because it was going to slow me down making me even more later than I was already was when I was basically there I saw something id never seen before the greatest garden with all of these people sitting relaxing I dropped my bag and walked toward the garden the smell was amazing so peaceful and quiet I remembered I was suppose to be home now I was even later than before I knew I was in for a world of trouble and had to get home for it got to 7:45 I made it home at 8:00 that wasn’t so bad but to my parents it was really bad because I was suppose to be home at 4:30 before my parents got the chance to talk I told them about the garden … the were furious that I was late because of some garden so for punishment I got all electronically devices taken away and I was not allowed to go to the garden I was upset but there was no point in arguing because there decision would not change. When I came home from school that day I got home on time very depressed my mother was happy I was home on time as soon as I got in I went to my room and started and finished my homework my mom came home in because she knew I was depressed and she knew the reason why she didn’t want to change my punishment but she couldn’t


stand to see me mad so she changed my curfew to 6:45 I was amazed she changed her mine and I’m glad she did though now I could learn more about the garden … the next day I ran to the garden so I could stay there longer but this day there was a lot more people and most of them were working on the garden I asked if I could help they said yes so for the rest of the evening I was working on the garden making it look better after 10 minutes it started to rain and every as evacuating I said a least the garden will get some water everyone smiles and walked away I knew tomorrow it was going to be a better day for all of us … when I got home I was actually 30 minutes early I went to my room and started and finished my homework after my mom walked into my room asked how my day was so I told … she smiled and laughed then she paused and told me to get ready for dinner I said alright packed my books and walked down stairs . The next day during school it was going great until I ran into my social studies teacher Mrs. Pradas she told I failed one of her quizzes I knew if my parents fount out the would flip out so I had to keep it a secret then she told to get it signed I knew this would not be an easy task I would have to try and sign it myself today I didn’t go to the park because I ha to think of ways not to let my parents seeing my grade and not notice me home when it was time for me to be home I could sneak out the back door and into the front I didn’t know my parents went into my room looking under my bed Finding my bad test grade but they noticed something I did not that it wasn’t my test because it didn’t have my last name on it so when I got in they told me my teacher had given me the wrong test I was released that I didn’t fail … the next morning my teacher gave me my test I got an 95 I still missed being in California but was just starting to get use to this place today I started to plant some seeds … when I got home my parents weren’t home


they had left a note on the fridge saying they went to my grandmothers house and they would be back at 8:45 leaving the whole house to my self but that was boring so I decided to go back to the garden id seen something horrible there before my eyes id seen 4 grown men destroying the garden they had seen me and started to chase me so I tied my shoes has tight as I could and decided to run from them as I had thought I gotten away from them they had cut me off it was just my luck when all the people from the garden heard and hurried to help once they had seen all of us the walked into the darkness I will never forgets those men with their .. The next month it was my birthday everyone was there my parents, my grandparents, and the friendly people from the garden wishing me a happy birthday and singing for me from the garden people they had given lots of seeds to plant because they were closing the garden until they could find out who messed it up the first time I was on the investigation and good thing my grandparents brought me that detective kit for my last birthday… after restless months I found out it was my parents and grandparents because when I came in from school early I saw them putting on those same black coats I had seen that night I didn’t say anything I just walked into the kitchen silent and decided to talk to them… after 45 restless minutes they apologized my parents sad because I was spending all of my time in the garden I said I would try to do more stuff with them after school .. 7 years later I was in collage and I still remember my 12 Birthday and that will always stay with me no matter what and that’s my vignette.

\


Hi my name is Stephanie and I am 12 years old. I have been dancing since I was 3 years old and I have always loved it. Dancing to me is like my second life it gives me a chance to take out all my


frustrations and everything going on in my life. Dance is more then my passion it is my life goal. You see I was never really good at anything in my life other then dancing. I was never good at sports never all that smart and I was always being made fun of. One day in junior high there was a dance competition. I had seen the posters around the school and had started to make up a dance. There was no real reason to win for me but I wanted to try my hardest to see what I could accomplish. There was a sign up sheet outside room 100 for anyone who wanted to participate in the competition. So one day before school I went and signed up. That day I walked into math class and the girl who thought she was so popular Gina had gotten there before me. This was never good because she was always making fun of me for getting there later then her. I never really knew why but I knew it was never important. She was making fun of me because she thought that I would make a fool out of myself for dancing in the competition against her, but I knew I could beat her. After school I went right back to practicing. I knew I had to beat her. I practiced all weekend long. I barely got any sleep. Then Monday came along; I knew that the competition was tomorrow. I was feeling very good about myself. Then I started to think about it a lot more and I got a little nervous. I knew I would be going up in front of everyone but that wasn’t what was bothering me. What was bothering me was that Gina was going to be competing too. Monday had come and gone before I knew it. Today was Tuesday, but not just Tuesday, today was the day of the competition. I walked backstage, I was up next, I was shaking, and I knew I was going before Rachel so I had to be good. They called my name and I walked onto the stage. I was in my pose. The music started. I did my dance. Once I started I didn’t feel nervous anymore. When I finished my dance I walked off the stage. It


was the greatest feeling I had ever had. I knew it was my last year there because next year I was moving into a house on Gibb Street. When I went to look at the house it was beautiful, but what was even more beautiful was the garden across the street. One of the neighbors came to our house one day after we were all done moving in. we talked for a long time. We talked about the dance even though I didn’t want to do it here because I knew the people here didn’t have dance things a lot. We also talked about the garden. She told me that I should plant something. After she left I thought to myself what to plant. The next day I thought of it. I was going to plant string beans because my dance friend back from where I used to live loved them and they would remind me of her. I went and got some seeds and a pitcher of water. I waked by every day to see them on my way to school. The next week I saw the starting to grow I was so happy. The next day I walked by and there were beans. I picked a few and sent them to my dance friend back from where I used to live. I knew she would love them.


Marina By: Carly Breakstone I live in Cleveland since last year when I moved here from Russia. When I lived in Russia it was during the time when the tension between Soviet Union and Russia started to rise. It was hard to live there during that time because everyone was arguing and nobody got along. Then my parents decided to move to American where everything was fine. I had to leave all my friends and I would have to make all new ones in Cleveland. I don’t have any brothers or sisters so I live in a tiny apartment in Cleveland. The street is very lonely and there don’t seem to be many kids. Then I realized that life on Gibb Street would definitely not be the same as in Russia. Now I have lived here for a week. Then I saw a girl who lived in the same apartment as me, and she looked around the same age also- 10 years old. Her name is Naomi and she is 10. Maybe life wouldn’t be to bad. I told my parents about my new friend and how she’s the same age. Later that night I went to Naomi’s house and met her parents. I asked where Naomi was, and they said at the hospital. I am confused. I asked what happened. They said she was really sick in the hospital and the doctors didn’t have a


cure. I started to head home with a miserable feeling. Almost home, I pass a garden. I have never heard about it and I heard a lot of voices coming from that direction. Maybe I could meet some new people there so I walked in. There was a little girl planting all by herself in the corner, it looked like she was planting lima beans. There was a big AfricanAmerican guy with big muscles who was planting tomatoes. I asked the girl what her name was and she quietly said Kim, and then went back to her work. It didn’t seem like she was interested in talking to me so I walked away. I have never planted anything before but it seems pretty fun. I went home that night thinking about what I could plant and thinking about my new friend Naomi in the hospital. The next morning at breakfast I told my mom about her and how I met her parents. My parents weren’t the social type. So I didn’t ask them to meet Naomi’s parents. That day when I took a walk outside I brought some of my money that I had collected from cleaning around the house. I didn’t tell my parents what is was for because they would think it was a stupid idea. When I arrived at the garden I asked an old woman where I could buy seeds. Her name was Leona; she seemed to know a lot about the garden and planting. So I planned on asking her for help. Back in Russia my mom told me not to talk to strangers, because I didn’t know if they were from the Soviet Union. I went to a little shop on the corner and looked around. I decided to plant zucchini. I bought 2 packs of seeds, $1.99 each. I walked out of the store excited to plant at the garden. And then I thought about Naomi, and how she was feeling. Yes! I thought of a good idea, I would plant the zucchini then bring it to Naomi in the hospital. She would feel good knowing I care about her. I got to the garden and asked Leona to help me get started. I found a spot in the corner near the girl who I saw in the


beginning. Leona helped me dig a hole in the ground and put the seeds in the hole. I watered it and thanked Leona then headed home. My mom asked me where I was and I said I took a little walk, I didn’t want her knowing I was at the garden alone. That night I asked my mother if she could take me to the hospital where Naomi was. I was so shocked that she said yes. We decided to go the next week, which was perfect, because the zucchini needed time to grow. Every morning I snuck out and checked on the garden. Every day the same people were there, and sometimes new people. Not many kids my age, but a few kids. The next morning I went to check on the garden. My zucchini was doing good, and so were all the other plants in the garden. I watered my plants and went to the other corner to see how the other plants were doing. The plants were good, everyone’s plant was growing high including the big guys tomatoes. The week passed fast and everyday I watered my plants because I wanted them to be good for Naomi. Finally it was the day where I am bringing them to Naomi. First in the morning I went to Naomi’s house to tell her parents about my idea to bring her the zucchini I grew they liked the idea. I went back home and my father drove me to the hospital where Naomi was staying. We finally got to Cleveland Clinic where she was. I went inside with my father holding the zucchinis. The girl at the front desk told me what room number she was in and I headed up the stairs to floor 3. I walked down the hall looking for room 203. I was only at 189. So I ran down the hallway. I came to the last room in the hallway and fortunately it was room 203. I knocked but nobody answered, I knocked again and still nobody came to the door so I asked a doctor. The doctor opened to door for me and I saw Naomi laying in the bed sleeping. I didn’t want to wake her from her sleep so I put the zucchini on the night stand and left a little note saying the following : Dear Naomi, I hope


you feel better soon and I made you these. I found the Gibb Street Garden and it really brought hope to me. I will visit again soon and I hope you enjoy the zucchini. Your mom said you like them. Your New Friend, Marina I was sad leaving the hospital without being able to talk to Naomi. But I knew she would awake soon and see what I left for her I would return the next week. I went to bed thinking about her and when she would be better. The next week came. I had some money from the past week so I went to the market and bought some more zucchini seeds. I went to the same spot, but someone’s seeds were already planted there. I saw Leona in the corner so I asked her if she knew who it was. She said a girl around my age had came the day before and started to plant seeds. I was thinking hard but couldn’t think of any other kids my age that I have seen. I returned the seeds, so I went home and got ready to go to the hospital. The lady at the desk asked me if I was visiting the same girl as I did the past week. I said yes and the women said she felt better and had gone home. Excitingly I got into the car and asked my father to drive me to Naomi’s house. As soon as I got to her house I saw her and her father playing on the lawn. I jumped out of the car and ran up to Naomi. She said thank you so much for the zucchini and that she was feeling much better. I asked her if she wanted to plant with me at the Gibb Street garden. She said too late that she had already started planting after she tried the zucchini. She said she asked her father to buy her zucchini seeds and bring her to the garden. She said she planted her seeds in an empty spot near some women named Leona. A spark went off in my head and I realized it was Naomi who planted in the spot I went to. I didn’t care, I was happy she was better. I said goodbye and headed home. When I got home I told my mom how Naomi was feeling better and how she was planting at the garden. I went to


sleep thinking to myself that maybe my zucchini brought Naomi hope and she was better now. I was very proud of myself for caring about her and then I thought that maybe living in this new place wouldn’t be too bad because I found a new friend. RED BEANS Every other day I would pass by Gibb Street with a sour face because the stench in that old vacant lot is unbearable. I would think about this neighborhood and how horrible it would be to live hear all alone, just the thought of Grandma staying in this hole of a town gets me turning in my sleep, I try to convince her to come to our penthouse and live with me and David but she wont budge. She claims that it’s too much vibration in the sounds of the city for her old bones to handle. Today was refreshingly different, it was all gone I always thought I knew this place up and down explored every inch of trash, an eleven year old could get too but boy was I wrong. I mean I knew things where bound to change every now and then when I come to visit Grams, like a new fridge or maybe she changed a light bulb but nothing drastic. It was beyond words beautiful, lettuce, tomato, corn, beans and a sprinkle of flowers hear and there. I placed my packages from the bodega down and headed to this new mysterious green lot. I snooped around looking for which one would be Grams but I was dumbfounded. Apartment 6H, I use my old key to open it; I ask Grams which one of the little plantations where hers but instead of a small shrilled smile I get no response and a side ways glance. It turns out that Grams can’t afford to make one of her own. With her bad back she simply can’t water them the way they should be watered. Tomorrow I’m goanna find a way she should be able to do what she feels and express herself in this garden if a little water is holding her back ill call David and tell him to buy some water and make it rain. I’m in public relations I get paid to do this stuff all I have to do is solve this public problem. Looks like


I’m a little too late for this problem, it turns out there was a contest all along for kids under 12 some guy named Sam will give them a 20.00$ prize for the person that has the best idea. My flight for New York leaves in a few days but on the plane ride I will no longer long for my Grandmother to be by my side, I will no longer think she’s in danger every time she turns a corner. Because this garden means something, it symbolizes the change happening, it shows me the community is changing and coming together to make something beautiful. Tomorrow Grams and I will come plant our famous red beans, with the excitement that the beans we will be planting symbolizes the bad in our lives and planting them down in the ground will cause the darkness to become light or in this case sprout to become beautiful red beans.


Naomi I never really believed in true love at first sight. Why? Because every time I thought I had a connection between a boy and I, it never turned out to be anything special. Like that time in 5th grade, when Jonny asked me out, and I didn’t know what to say, and before I could respond, he screamed right in my face “APRIL FOOLS NAOMI!” I was humiliated. But that was when my parents were around to pay for something like school. I lived in Mesta, Greece. My life was really complicated. I didn’t live in one of those huge mansions, though; I lived in a small apartment with three younger sisters and an older brother. Mama died about two years ago, and papa, he never really cared about us. He left us the day mama died. We were stuck to living on our own. I always wanted to do something with my life. Not something to be famous, just something, like to make a friend, or to buy some new clothes. Not much went on here in Mesta. There weren’t many kids my age. I don’t really go outside a lot, because we can’t afford going to school. So my brother, Mason, home schools all of us. He’s 17, and


luckily, very smart. One day while he was teaching us, he told us that as we get older, we want to accomplish something in our life that we can remember forever and be proud of. I wanted that to happen to me. But how? Nothing goes on in Greece and nothing is going to happen any time soon. So, I did what I wanted to do. I told Mason that his “do something with your future” lesson made me want to do something with my life, he understood completely. So I left Greece. I was only 12 years old, and I was very nervous. I was usually a pretty brave kid. I wasn’t afraid of a lot of things. But moving to the United States on my own was scary. I didn’t know anything about it. What if the people were really criminals or unfriendly? I was lucky that my cousin lived in Cleveland, Ohio, because otherwise I would have no place to stay. When I got to my cousins house, they were so happy to see me. I was glad to see them, too. Cousin Rosie and cousin Martin were probably my favorite cousins. They were so much fun to be around. They moved to the United States right when they got married. I haven’t seen them since. My room was the best. It was hot pink with a queen size bed. I thanked them so much for letting me stay with them and for everything they’ve done for me. When I was all finished unpacking, I asked them if I could just take a walk outside; I really need some fresh air. Cleveland was really nice. It sure was different from Mesta! Kids were playing outside, people were taking walks in the parks with their dogs, and there were so many cars on the road. Boy, Cleveland was one busy city! As I turned onto a street named “Gibb Street”, something caught my eye. It was gorgeous. The grass was nice and green, there was a variety of colors, so many people were talking, it looked like a community garden. Everything was just beautiful. People were planting so many different things: tomatoes, lettuce, corn, lima beans, eggplants,


and so many more foods. I went over to see what was going on. I saw a young girl who looked about my age who was planting lima beans. She looked friendly, I went over to ask her about this community garden. “Um, excuse me, miss? I was wondering what’s going on here. I just got here today from Greece and this is so different! Can you please explain to me what’s going on? This garden is just beautiful and I think I want to plant something!” She looked up at me, studied me, curiously, probably because this is the first time I’ve ever met her and she didn’t know anything about me at all. Finally, she smiled at me sweetly and opened her mouth ready to say something. “Go right ahead and plant anything you want! I even have some seeds back in my house if you don’t have any with you since you just came from Greece. This is a community garden. People who want to grow something that don’t have room to at home or want to make money or just want to come and plant all the time! You don’t need a special ID, come on in and plant! Everyone is welcome.” “Oh, ok thanks!” I replied, taking a few steps back. I think I took a little too many, because I felt something wrap around my ankle. Before I could say anything else, I fell back. I realized I just tripped over someone’s crops. It looked like that someone was growing carrots. Great, I thought, I haven’t even been here 10 minutes and I already embarrassed myself. “God, will you watch it?! Couldn’t you see I was growing crops?!” I heard a voice shout. It sounded like a young boy. I turned around to see who was talking. He had blue eyes, long blond hair, and a cute button nose. He was good looking. I didn’t know what to say next. “Uh...sorry I uh-“ I started hesitating; my face was turning bright red. “I didn’t see


you there…” I said quickly getting off the ground and started to walk away. I think he understood I was embarrassed and upset. He looked sorry, and walked over to me. “No, no, I am sorry. I shouldn’t have freaked out on you like that. What’s your name? Can I buy you a drink or something?” “No, I’m fine. You can go back to your carrots now.” “Come on, let me buy you something. What’s your name?” “Naomi, and I just moved here from Greece.” “Oh,” was all he said. He looked at me, studying me carefully, just like Kim. What was with these Americans when new immigrants came into town? He just stood there, looking into my eyes. “So, stranger, are we going to go or what? You owe me!” I said with a playful smile. It looked like I got him back on track, because he blinked a few times and looked like he was alive now. “Right, let’s go. Oh, and I’m Tony. Tony Ziggans.” We walked out of the garden, and I had no idea where he was taking me. I didn’t know where anything was, so he could be taking me for anything. We talked about our lives, and what we’ve been through. I learned he had one sister and his parents were alive and healthy. I also learned he went to school and had lots of friends. I told him about my life and how both my parents are gone, but one is probably still alive, and how I live with my older brother and three sisters. He told me how bad he felt and how he feels so sorry for me. It felt good, to talk to someone about my problems in life, and to just be talking to someone other then a sibling. It also felt good to be outside, breathing in the fresh air, looking at the beautiful sky, and all the children laughing and playing. I think I was going to like Cleveland.


He ended up taking me to a diner. There he had a bowl of soup while I had a Greek pizza, which ended up being the worst Greek pizza I’ve ever had. He asked me if I wanted anything else, but I told him no because I had to get home, my cousins were probably waiting for me. He looked sad, but simply said okay, and hopefully he’ll see me around soon. I walked home peacefully, and with a smile on my face. I was so happy I made a new friend. It felt so good to meet new people. “Where were you?” Rosie said when I got home, “we were so worried about you, Naomi!” “I’m fine,” I told them, “I made a new friend. His name is Tony Ziggans.” “Oh, that’s nice.” She said. I decided I wanted some sleep. I went upstairs to go to bed. I needed all the rest I was going to get. I was so tired that right when I got into bed I shut my eyes and fell asleep. When I woke up, it was nice and sunny outside. I went downstairs for breakfast. Rosie made me eggs and toast. I told her I wanted to go to the garden for a few hours. She asked me if I wanted some seeds to plant anything. I asked her if she had any lima beans. She did, so I took those, and ran down to the garden. When I got there, I saw Tony. Yes, I thought, just who I hoped would be there! I ran over to them. We talked, and laughed, and I planted my lima beans. A few minutes later another girl and boy came over and smiled at Tony. They came over and introduced themselves to me. The girl was Jamie and the boy was Edmond. We talked for a little bit and got to know each other. They were really nice. I started to love Cleveland. The garden really completed my life. I met so many people in just two days. I’m glad I listened to Mason, his lesson really helped. I moved to the United States, and I did something with my life. I made new friends, I planted lima beans, and I went outside for


more then an hour. When it was getting late, I told them I had to get home in time for lunch. I turned around, and headed home. While I was walking, I heard tiny footsteps behind me. I turned around to see who it was. It was Tony, with a rose in his hand.


ZOE By: Alyson Cresciullo It was my thirteenth birthday. It was the day I got the news. The news wasn’t great it was that I was moving. Worst day of my life! I’m an only child so I usually get my way but not this time. I’ve lived in Europe for all my life since I was a baby and now I have to move to Cleveland. It stinks! I have so many friends who live hear and where I’m moving I’m not going to know single person. I had to pack my bags and say goodbye to my house and friends. It would take us 4 days on a train if we got lucky. We arrived at our new apartment on Gibb Street it was okay but it’s going to have to get some getting used to. Cleveland was way different the food was different a lot more options some foods I’ve never even heard of. I would be starting my first day of 10th grade this would be hard. For the past week that I’ve lived here none of my neighbors even acknowledge me and now I have to walk into this school. As I walked into my school silence everyone looking at me, nothing happening and all of a sudden........... A girl walked to me she was tall, blonde hair,


skinny and looked very shy, her name was Bailey Katifshe. Supposedly she wasn’t the most popular but she was also new, and that’s when I knew we would be good friends. When Bailey walks to me she introduced herself and started to discuss who people are what their personality were. She told whom I want to be with and who to stay away from it was some good information. 9th period bell rang we walked home together the sun was shinning it was so nice. Walking home on Gibb Street we stopped in silence all I could say is so beautiful. It was a garden very bright with a whole community actually working together it was so refreshing knowing I could actually belong. Paige and I walked into the garden it was amazing every type of plant you could imagine. As we walked everybody introduced he or she it was a whole different environment then school. There was Kim the starter of the garden, Gonzalo, Sam, Leona and many other spirited people. Bailey and I decided to plant bulbs. These bulbs would represent our friendship every time the bulbs grow higher our friendship grows higher and higher.


Turn static files into dynamic content formats.

Create a flipbook
Issuu converts static files into: digital portfolios, online yearbooks, online catalogs, digital photo albums and more. Sign up and create your flipbook.