#marymountparis

By Naho, Grade 4, Japanese

Awarded 2nd Place in the Young Authors’ Fiction Festival 2016 at the American LIbrary, Paris.

“Are you feeling alright, sweetheart?” asked my mom, nervously looking into my eyes. “Yep!” I answered, trying to put a smile on my face. I wasn’t feeling good but I didn’t want her to worry about me. I just woke up to see my mom sitting on a small couch beside my comfortable hospital bed.

It was a beautiful sunny day in May and many flowers bloom in this month. The spring breeze brought flower petals from an open window and drew a flower garden on my white bed sheet. From the window I could hear kids playing in the playground. I wasn’t allowed to go out so instead, I always left this window open.

“Ready for the story?” Mom read me my favorite books after I took the bitter medicines. I loved the way she read the stories because it reminded me of a song she used to sing me at bedtime. But every night at seven o’clock she needed to go home. As she kissed me goodnight, I saw her eyes filled with tears.

Then that was it. Three hours later I died.

Until my heart stopped working, I was dreaming about a summer festival I once went to. Then, suddenly, I suffocated. Doctors rushed to save my life, but it was too sudden and too late.

The next time I woke up, I was standing on a cloud with a man. He had short brown hair and long beard just like Santa Claus, and he was dressed in a white robe  like a Greek god. His eyes were as blue as sky and he smelled of grapes.

The man smiled at me. “Olivia, you’ve come above the clouds”.

I realized that I was far away from my parents. “I don’t want to be here! I didn’t see daddy last night!!” I shouted. The man had a gentle smile and kept staring at me with his beautiful blue eyes.

Then I saw two other men walking towards me. One of them was a skinny old man wearing torn clothes and no shoes. The other was a young artist. I knew it because he had a paint brush in his hands and paints all over his clothes. Both of them looked very sad.

The man with blue eyes said to the skinny man. “How did you like your life?” He responded quickly. “I was homeless, nobody loved or even looked at me. My life was miserable and meaningless”

The man with beard asked the artist the same question. The artist said replied that he hadn’t had a good life either. “I couldn’t sell a single one of my paintings. I had no talent, and my life was miserable.”

The man asked the question sighed sadly. He then asked me the same question. I thought for a while and said I didn’t know.

Touching his beard, the man said, “It’s sad you came here without realizing how special you were.”

He told the skinny old man. “Didn’t you love singing with that beautiful voice? Your songs created hope for many people. You were very special!”.

He then told the artist. “You had a beautiful heart. Your drawings were impressive because you could see things with your heart. You were special too!”.

Then he turned to me. “You had five wonderful years with your parents who loved you more than anything. You were special because you were loved so much!.”

All of us started crying because we thought it was too late.

But the man with blue eyes calmed us. “Don’t be sad. Life is eternal.” He then gave each of us a key. The artist’s key was as small as a baby’s thumb, and the skinny man’s key was large and shinny. My key looked like an ordinary key but had a heart-shaped top.

“These are keys for your next life. Just like your keys, all of you have different lives. But please remember, that all of you are special and will always be loved. This is very important but sadly many people forget it.”

The man then pointed out a big door with many keyholes. We used our keys to open the door to see shining light.

By Maho, Grade 4, Japanese

Awarded 1st Place in the Young Authors’ Fiction Festival 2016 at the American Library, Paris.

“Oh, it stinks! I don’t want to touch this ugly car!” I whispered, while trying to  squeeze my body in a tiny spot in between two cars. I just hate to be parking like this. My beautiful nose was almost touching the back bumper of a horribly dusty black car in front of me in a narrow one-way street behind George Cinq.

I am Madame Voiture, a pink classic Citroen. As the number “75” on my vehicle registration plate suggests, I am a proud “La Parisienne”. I love driving around this beautiful Ville de Paris with my owner Mme Agnes, who is known by her neighbors as La Madame Chic, and her little poodle. Not only the L’arc de Triomphe and the Eiffel Tower, Paris also has hundreds of other amazingly beautiful architecture and streets.

But again, I just can’t stand this parking nightmare in Paris. I know it’s almost impossible to find spacious parking spaces in this city, but why do drivers need to use my bumpers to help them park their cars? That’s just rude!

Once Mme Agnes left me on Avenue du Roule and stepped out to buy her a baguette. Then there came a silver clunker from the other side of the street and the driver parked it right in front of me, leaving us face to face!. “Bonjour!” I greeted him but I had to spend five minutes kissing this total stranger until Mme Agnes came back.

Parisien drivers are also impatient and they always honk or shout at me even when I can’t move forward. One day I was running around the Arc de Triomphe, the most beautiful but chaotic roundabout in the world with 12 exit and entry points, then a taxi driver whipped me past with his hands gesturing. Incroyable!

I needed a break because I was getting tired of working in Paris. I begun dreaming about a life in quiet countryside where parking spaces and streets are much wider that I can drive and park with a peace in my mind.

But soon later my dream actually came true. Mme Agnes decided go to see her sister  who lives in a charming cottage in Normandy. “On y va!” – with two chic leather suitcases and the little poodle dog, we left Paris.

As expected, Normandy was nice and quiet, and I was very pleased to see fewer cars and bigger parking spaces. Here I should be able to enjoy some personal space.

“Bonjour monsieur,” I talked to a small silver Pugeot a few meters away while Mme Sabine walked way to buy some cheese. “Are you from this area? Do people ever honk horn at you in this village? How is the parking situation here?”

The car, covered by mud and smelled like sheep, just casted a cold glance at me and my “75” number plate and spat out, “Ug! La Parisienne!”.

Oh well. For the next several days, I truly enjoyed my life in the village. I was pleased that nobody honked or yelled at me, and that I was not forced to kiss strangers cars or sniff their back.

But later in that week I got bored. The village life was not exciting at all and all I could see while driving was farms, stone-built houses or snail-slow tractors in front of me. My body was getting dusty and I started smelling like a fresh green meadow.

“Don’t you get bored driving in the countryside all the time?” I asked an old and mud-covered car at the car park. “Sometimes. I hear Paris is big beautiful,” he replied. “But I hear that parking in Paris is a nightmare. You need to kiss and sniff strangers’ back all the time, right?”

Two weeks later, Mme Agnes and I made it back to our city. I was so excited that I almost ran in my full speed.

Paris was still full of cars with aggressive drivers switching deftly between brake and horn. Horrible pedestrians are everywhere, crossing streets without looking at traffic lights. “Ce n’est pas possible!”, shouted a taxi driver as he hurtled at me at great speed and almost hit my left side mirror.

by Laura, Grade 6, Middle School

Honorable Mention in the Young Authors’ Fiction Festival 2016

https://www.americanlibraryinparis.org/events-programs/yaff.html

Judges recap: "This is a well-constructed and exciting adventure story that successfully combines action with humor.” 

Me? Why me? Out of the 7, 214, 958, 996 people on planet earth, I was chosen! My parents lied about my childhood, my life. They lied about me! Ok, I should stop. You’re probably confused and I’m spoiling the story!

I was sitting on the windowsill peering out into the pouring San Francisco rain. I watched the streets flood with water, sliding frantically. I got bored and decided to go watch TV.  When I reached the hallway I noticed something shining in my mom’s bedroom, something I didn’t notice before. I crept into the room, picked up the object and slid out of the room before I could get caught.

I ran across the hallway, shut the door and locked it. I sat at my desk and investigated it. It was round and small enough to fit in the palm of my hand. There were golden vines delicately spiraling to the center of the object, which held a heart-shaped ruby. I heard humming. I placed the object next to my ear. It was like a heartbeat. I dropped it on the floor, backing away.

At dinner, I sat down, filled my plate with food and stuffed it down, as an excuse not to talk. When my parents excused me from the table, I kissed both of them good night, lying that I wanted rest for a huge exam the next day.

In my room, I picked up the object and poked around with it for hours before I decided to call it a night. I woke up in the middle of the night to the humming sound. I looked over to find the object glowing brightly. I picked up the object, my fingers slowly moving toward the blood-red heart. When I touched it, it pricked me, drawing blood from my fingertip. I yelped and dropped it into my lap.

Suddenly, I was plopped right in the middle of a forest. Around me were millions of pairs of eyes, too low to the ground to be human.  My eyes adjusted and I saw tiny men who were mostly bald and women who had two clean braids resting on their chests.

They whispered and pointed until one shouted, “Our savior has arrived!” Happily, others cried, “The Savior is here!” and “The Savior will save us!”

They ran towards me twirling, and dancing. Once the headman quieted them, I couldn’t keep it in. I burst out laughing, holding my aching side, my cheeks hurting from laughter. Once I regained control, they gaped at me with wide eyes.

“Anyway…” I said trailing off into silence. They pointed and whispered again, annoying me. The headman called for their attention and turned toward me.

“My name is Xylem, I’m the king of the Dwarves. You are in what is called The Para-Realm. Our world was peaceful until the dragon arrived. He was sent from another realm. He declared himself the ruler of our realm, daring citizens to duel to death,” He paused.

“Excuse me? Dragon? Realm? Dwarves?” I choked.

Xylem ignored me. “Then one day, one citizen stood up for the whole Para-Realm, proclaiming he would fight. He successfully defeated the dragon in battle. He created a portal that led to your world, to protect his wife and child. But when he left, another dragon arrived from the distant realm. We have lived in fear, hoping a descendant of The Great Dragon Slayer would come to defeat the new dragon. Finally, here you are with his golden token!” He ended. “Follow me to my palace and I’ll prove it to you.”

We followed a road to his palace.  When we arrived he signaled the guards to open the enormous gates and I stayed close behind him, afraid I would get lost in his maze.  When we arrived at a dead end, he pulled a torch toward him and the wall turned around. Speechless, I trailed behind him. He unlocked a chest and instructed me to hold a sword he pulled from the chest. The second my hand touched the jeweled handle, I was flooded with unknown memories: A man in in front of a dragon, defeating the dragon, the man creating a portal, hearing the coos of a baby and the soft laughs of a rocking mother. I let go, inhaling deeply.

“I’m the next dragon slayer.” I whispered.

I left the room, leaving Xylem behind, taking the sword with me. I reached outside, leapt down the palace stairs, and started yelling for the dragon to fight.

I heard a thump, shaking the ground. In the distance I saw a gigantic, charcoal dragon in a flower meadow. I charged toward him, not thinking straight and took my first swing gashing his leg. He flew in a circle around me breathing fire toward the ground. When he landed, a ring of dragon-fire surrounded us both.

The dragon was ready to launch another breath of fire and I didn’t know what to do. Suddenly, my father’s strength swelled inside me. I thought back to the memory of his victory. I saw Dwarf Kingdom, this time as a hero. I thought of running into the arms of my parents. I charged again, aiming at the dragons’ chest. I sunk my sword straight through the heart. The dragon fell to the ground, shaking the earth even more than before. I let the sword go and fainted from the action.

I woke up to my mom shaking me!

“Come on, I have breakfast on the table already! Your dad and I are waiting for you!” she exclaimed.

“Ok, ok I’ll be down in a second!” I said.

She left the room.  I got up, put my robe and slippers on. I went to the kitchen and sat at the table.

“You have no idea what I dreamt about last night!” I said.

by Sofia, Grade 8, Colombian

During this one year I spent at Marymount, I grew as a person in a way I never had before. I started to see life in a totally different way; do you know that feeling? Your mind changes completely and you figure, you aren’t the same person you were when you fell asleep. Yesterday you thought how tomorrow would be and today you think how your life will be. I learned how to have a vision, and that I learned at Marymount.

One way I have changed is my opinion about whom I would want to grow up to be. Last year I considered the girl who partied a lot and had many friends, as the girl who enjoyed life at the fullest. This year that changed completely. For the person I am today, the right girl is someone who has a dream of becoming something big, someone who studies and tries as hard as they can to be the best, someone who is open minded and cultured. I consider this as a part of maturing. All of this I learned while studying at Marymount. Marymount makes you realize that life is more than what you see in movies: it is about finding your way and learning.  

Learning new cultures, new methods, new languages, and many other new things are what create this great person. I feel I am made of different things I have been learning from religions and cultures. I am ready to receive new information and to accept situations. Being open-minded, this helped me grow. It is important to be open-minded in all types of situations. When you are ready to adapt to anything that might get in your way, it means you are ready for life.

Critical thinking is one of the best skills a teenager can have, especially in this time when fitting in is the hardest yet most important thing. I learned to use critical thinking everywhere. I take it from my classes in school to the decisions I must take outside of school and in my daily routines. It is important to know when to say no or when to accept things, when to continue or when to stop. In the ethics class I received at Marymount, I was taught all of the moral laws. Laws that will aid me build a better future guiding me with a good conscience.

By Alexandre, Grade 8, French/Australian 

           Marymount has been my home for the past eight years. Having an English speaking mother and a French speaking father, I consider these two languages as mother tongue. Thanks to this skill, life at Marymount was a lot easier for me than others who couldn’t speak English. On the other hand, I had trouble adapting to a real school. Before first grade, I had no notion of what attending a real school was like. Marymount is the only grade school I’ve ever been to, so I do not know what to expect for next year. I can remember how frightened and intimidated I was when I walked through those front gates. However, I was fortunate to be accompanied by one of my friends I knew since I was little, and I will be going to my next school with him as well.

            At Marymount, I feel like the main focus for the school’s curricular program is to build the student’s confidence, and prepare them for the next step. For me, I have never felt forgotten or let down by anybody at this school. If someone attends Marymount, they will be told that they can achieve anything, and that will help them survive in the real world a lot longer than someone who’s been told otherwise, providing the do the work probably and make an effort. At this school, the program is based on allowing the student to achieve success for himself or herself, and not for anybody else. Throughout my years here, there is not one moment where I have doubted the support of my friends, teachers, or anybody else.

           In many ways Marymount has prepared me for the next step. I will always remember that I was in the School Play, that it was Mr. McCormick that taught me to love math, that it was Mrs. Berry that taught me to love Shakespeare, that it was Mrs. Thomas and Mrs. Hollande who taught me the skills of diplomacy speaking up for what I believe in. I will always remember that it was these people who led me into the core of the subject. Marymount has created bonds that will never be broken. Marymount has made friends that will never be forgotten. Marymount has made memories that will never fade. All I can say is that it was worthwhile. Although I am sad that my Marymount life is coming to an end, I now think its time to move on, that it’s time for the next step. But I wouldn’t be the person I am today, if it weren’t for Marymount.

By Arijana, Grade 8, American Croatian

When I first came to France, I was not the happiest person. I had come from living in one place my whole life and adapting was not one of my best skills. I was going to spend three years in France, and to me that felt like an eternity. However, when I walked through the entrance of Marymount; I couldn’t help but feel a bit better. The first days were rough as any new school is, but by the end of the first month I felt like I had a second home. I was welcomed with a buddy who showed me around the school in my first week and over the last two years we have become best friends.  

My parents liked the school because it was small and all my siblings could go to the same place. The classes are more small and there is more one-on-one time between teacher and student. This was great for me because I came from a school with classes of thirty people and I would barely talk in class. Having a more personal environment pushed me to speak up more and my teachers knew what my strengths and weaknesses were.

Over the first year, I found a hidden talent for speaking in front of crowds. I would have never found this gift if I had not been given the chance to speak during masses. During the year, I spoke at most masses and during my Confirmation. My confidence definitely grew and I now jump at the chance to speak during conferences and ceremonies. All through last year I prepared for my Confirmation, having Religion classes each week helped me grow spiritually and prepare wholly.

At the beginning of this year, Marymount had a MiniCop mirroring the Cop meeting in France. I stayed through the whole MiniCop meeting as a part of Student Implementation Committee. At these meetings I learned a lot about our Earth and the horrible things we are doing to it. After the conference I became a vegetarian for a month and a half. Now that I am better educated on our Earth, I do the little things in my house to save the environment (i.e. turn off the tap, take only showers, and recycle more).

Coming to Marymount has also boosted my language learning. Before I came to Marymount, I took Chinese for six years at my old school and I barely remember any of it. However, when I came to Marymount I learned French extremely fast. My teacher was lovely and I had a great deal of fun in her class but I also learned plenty of vocabulary from the exercises we did. I have learned enough French that I am going to a French boarding school next year. I have to thank the teachers who helped me understand and gave me the courage to speak out loud to thank.

In my eighth grade year I started geometry and trigonometry with Mr. McCormick. Over this year I have learned and understood so much about various math subjects. Not only have I understood geometry and trigonometry, I also have found a passion it. I like to challenge myself with problems from the new math chapters we learn.