Innholdsfortegnelse for February 2018 i Cricket Magazine Fiction and Non-Fiction Stories for Children and Young Teens

Jeff has been creating art for children for almost twenty years. He has illustrated, and occasionally written, more than sixty picture books. His newest titles include Melvin the Mouth written by Katherine Blanc and Laugh Out Loud written by James Patterson. He also wrote and illustrated the forthcoming picture book George the Hero Hound, which is loosely based on his childhood growing up on a farm. Jeff and his wife, Eileen, graduated from the Art Academy of Cincinnati. Jeff worked as an art director in the children’s book department for a Chicago publisher. He writes and illustrates the monthly comic series Nestor’s Dock for Ask magazine. He has also done paper engineering for pop-up books, created large-scale murals for schools and churches, and sculpted puppets and performed for several marionette…

ZAHRA HUDDLED IN a corner of the room with her little sisters. Baba was dead. Immi sat weeping for her husband while the neighbor women comforted her. “What will we do without Baba?” Amina cried. “Why did he have to die?” “I miss him so much,” said Rana. “And who will take care of us? Without a father, we’ll starve.” “We won’t starve,” Zahra said. “Look at all the food the neighbors have brought. And Baba’s boss from the bakery sent fresh flatbread.” Rana took a deep breath. “But what will we do when that’s all gone?” Zahra put her arm around her sister. “We’ll help Immi weave rugs and bags to sell. We’ll find other ways to earn money. God will take care of us.” There was a stir…

Lorelai lives in London with her English mother, a doctor, and is looking forward to spending her summer break exploring the exciting city with her friends. She complains bitterly when her mother tells her that, instead, she will be staying with her aunt, uncle, and boring cousin Thomas in their country house in the north of England, while her mother goes to Brazil to work for Doctors Without Borders. When she arrives in Yorkshire, Lorelai is surprised to discover that the country house is really a mansion in the middle of the desolate, mysterious moor. She forces Thomas—who prefers staying indoors, listening to music through his earbuds—to explore the wild moor with her. When they come across the ruins of an ancient building, Lorelai sees a little girl and asks…

“HELEN! ARE YOU coming?” “Yes!” Helen called back, yanking her dress on. It was a bit small, but she could manage. “Where are we going, Dad?” she asked. She didn’t often get to spend time with her father these days. He was always working, always trying to make enough money to support Helen, her mother, and her brothers and sister. “We’ll be getting the rent,” he answered. “Oh.” So that was why he had time for her today. The rent was what kept them going, what gave them enough money so that all Helen had to worry about was her too-tight dress and raggedy old slip. Other children had to worry about food or even their homes. The Resnicks were luckier. Before the Depression had begun, when the Resnick family’s…

Comanche arrived in a beat-up horse trailer and a dust cloud of screeching brakes. As soon as the driver turned off his engine, we could hear the squeals and snorts, and suddenly, a loud ka-bang! as angry hooves connected with the rear door of the trailer. As his handler led him down the ramp and into the barnyard, our mouths dropped open—not in awe of his beauty, but in surprise. This rotund little brown-and-white pony, looking so very shaggy in his winter fur coat, was causing all this fuss? I had almost expected to see a fire-breathing dragon! At Butters’ Field Farm we keep a stable of horses for trail rides and teaching riding lessons. Our gentlest horse, Lady, who we use for beginners, had tripped in a groundhog hole…

Moonlight glittered on the palace pond like silver carp. Hearing his father approach, twelve-year-old Siddhartha realized the hour was late. The moon had reached its zenith. Tossing a rock into the pond, he shattered its glassy surface. Dark ripples spread across the water, ending the evening’s spell. “Why are you up, my son?” King Suddhodana recognized the troubled look in his son’s dark, unwavering eyes. “Father, why can’t I explore outside the palace?” Frustration was unmistakable in Siddhartha’s reply. The king frowned, knowing his son was questioning traditional rules that had long guided court life. “If I’m to be a good king, I should see how our subjects live,” Siddhartha said. “You’re too young to venture into the harshness of the world,” the king replied. He pointed toward the garden.…

After reading how Anabelle tamed the Round Warrior and Siddhartha cured his beloved stallion Kanthaka, Muffin is chomping at the bit to read your best poem about a horse. So saddle your broncs and gallop into this month’s horsy poetry contest! Will your poem be inspired by a herd of wild mustangs thundering across the plains, or a quiet moment saying good night to your horse in the stable? Perhaps you will write about grooming a beautiful horse to win a blue ribbon in a show. Or your thoughts might turn to a frisky newborn colt, or a trusty old plow horse hard at work. What words will you use to capture how your horse moves and sounds, or the magical feeling of galloping on your favorite steed? Whether you…