Innholdsfortegnelse for May/June 2016 i Cricket Magazine Fiction and Non-Fiction Stories for Children and Young Teens

First prize 10 and under Marit Uyham, age 10 Atlanta, GA How to Make a Valentine First, I folded a piece of purple paper in half. Next, I wrote a funny poem that I thought would make him laugh. Then, I drew a half of a great big heart. Cut, unfold, a piece of art! I drew some lace, a funny face, and a pretty heart or two. I thought a bit, and then I wrote, “This Valentine’s for you!” Next, I wrote, “Dear somebody,” (I shall not tell you who!) I added a little glitter, using just a bit of glue. I draw some X’s, then I sign, “It’s from your loving Valentine!” First prize 11 and up Merry Smith, age 12 South Duxbury, VT The Unscratched Diamond It’s…

Hi, Everybuggy! I absolutely love Cricket! Even though I have only read two issues, it inspires me in many ways. I only have one hand because my growth plate fell off when I was born. It really makes me feel like an outsider, but reading Cricket makes me feel like I’m part of a community. Reading every one of your stories, articles, and comics inspires me to write. I want to be a writer when I grow up. Along with writing, I like to play soccer, read, and be with my friends. I love reading “Cricket Country”; it is the best magazine comic ever! I also like the story “Bully” in the January 2016 issue. George is my favorite buggy because he finally breaks the stereotype about worms! They are…

I WAI T IN the dark until Lok’s deep rumbling snores shatter the silence. I push myself up to standing and tiptoe past my father, out the front door and into the darkness. A full moon shines like a light fixture, and the chattering of night creatures explodes in the air. A thick, moist heat settles on the surface of my skin instantly. The summer in Burma is brutally hot, and evening doesn’t bring much relief. I start along the trail, which I know by heart. It leads to where the great beasts are kept tethered to trees on the outskirts of my tiny village. I duck to avoid overhanging branches as I make my way along a thinly carved path with just enough room for one person. When I…

“One chilly spring day in the Barbaric Archipelago, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third, the Hope and Heir to the Tribe of the Hairy Hooligans, was standing miserably on the West Beach of the Murderous Mountains with absolutely nothing on but his helmet, his sword, his waistcoat, and a teeny-weeny pair of hairy swimming trunks.” HOW TO RIDE A DRAGON’S STORM (HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON) by Cressida Cowell submitted by Anna Trowbridge of Brooksville, ME “Out of all the books in the world I wonder what made you choose this one.” CURIOSITY by Gary Blackwood submitted by Colin C. of Germantown, TN “My name is India Opal Buloni, and last summer my daddy, the preacher, sent me to the store for a box of macaroni-and-cheese, some white rice,…

TWO YEARS I waited for my father to come home from the war. Winter nights, I pored over the scorecards from games we had attended at Yankee Stadium. On summer Sundays, I studied the batting averages printed in the newspaper and longed for his presence. Our shared love for baseball had made us as much friends as father and son. I was proud to be named Lou Gehrig Caputo after his all-time favorite player. He sounded like the same old Dad in his letters. After basic training, he wasn’t allowed to say where he was stationed or what he was doing, so we filled the pages with baseball. I told him which major leaguers had joined up, and we speculated on who would win the pennant. Neither of us guessed…

Twelve-year-old Morgiana and her little brother, Jamal, are slaves in the household of a rich merchant in Baghdad. One night, the Forty Thieves, led by a man with a face as cold as the devil’s, storm the house and kidnap Morgiana and her brother. When the thieves stop to rest, Morgiana cuts her and Jamal’s bonds with a knife she’s secreted in her sleeve, and they slip away. Back in her Master’s household, Morgiana is summoned to play the lute for a special guest—the fortuneteller Abu-Zayed. Morgiana eavesdrops from behind a curtain and learns that Master will die childless and threadbare. Any dignity that remains, says Abu-Zayed, Master will owe to the charity of his brother, Ali Baba, a poor woodcutter. In the meantime, Morgiana fears that Jamal is sneaking…

MY OLD FRIEND Will Shakespeare says “All the world’s a stage.” I like to think that all the world’s an orchestra. I tried to write down all the musical instruments, but ran out of paper before I got halfway through: violins, guitars, pianos, flutes, clarinets, trumpets. And dozens more, the ones we know best. But there are hundreds of other wonderful instruments all around the world. For example, the African finger piano: thin strips of metal on a small hollow box. The long-necked, guitar-like Hindu sitar. The Japanese samisen, a kind of three-stringed banjo. The Indonesian gamelan, a whole orchestra of gongs, flutes, drums, and xylophones. Giant bronze horns, some twenty feet long, played in the mountains of Tibet. In the Australian outback, you’ll hear a wind instrument that hasn’t…