The Tea Cup

Giggling as tea was poured into her teacup, smiling as she nibbled on tea party treats, was a little girl with her mother. Then tragedy struck. That night after the joyful little girl went to sleep, her father and mother went to a party to celebrate the 35th birthday of a relative leaving all 3 of their children at home with the oldest one in charge. The next morning at tea time, one little girl was sitting alone trying to pour her own tea, the same way her mother had done. But she was only three and when her father had told her about the deadly car crash that had taken the life of her mother, the little girl had gracefully skipped away smiling and not understanding that there would be no more tea time with her mother, or no more “kisses from mommy,” or even a third Christmas with her entire family. That little girl is my mom.
Now it was exactly thirty years after my grandmother’s death and all of the adults in the family were going out to a bar for a special dinner. There was only one problem. I, being only 13 years old, was not invited. So I was stuck watching my twin brother and sister, Kayla and Max. They were eight years old and caused a whole lot of mischief. Kayla was in her room playing with dolls, while Max had gone into the basement to play a video game. I however was sitting in the living room, by myself.  I was peaceful except for the occasional shout from the basement. As I looked around the room my mother’s old tea set caught my eye. I had always wanted to look at the tiny pieces of glass so I finally had my chance to get a closer look. I never knew why my mother was so attached to a silly tea set, but what I did know is that if I even touched the glass cupboard that held the tea set to get a better look, my mother explode with anger. I knew for sure I didn’t want to make her mad so I left the tea set and went to put Kayla and Max to bed. I knew that my parents would be home soon, so I decided to go to bed too.
A crash, like that of a window breaking, woke me with a start. I sat straight up and looked directly at my clock 4AM. I crept cautiously into my parents' room and went up to my father and shook him gently. He woke up, took one glance at his clock, and said “Are you crazy? It’s four o’clock in the morning!”
“I know Dad, but I heard a peculiar sound that came from downstairs.”
“It’s a ghost.” He said as if he didn’t care that someone could be in our house, stealing our things!
“No Dad I’m serious. It sounded like glass shattering as it hit the ground.”
”Fine, let’s go take a look.” We walked down the stairs and began to slowly walk, watching where we stepped in case there was any glass on the ground. Finally I saw something other than our wooden floor; it was a piece of glass. I picked it up and examined it closely. It took me about 30 seconds to realize that this was my mother’s tea set. I called my dad over to where the glass was shattered all over the floor. He took one look and his eyes became watery with tears. I asked him “Why are you crying? Was his tea set really that important to you and mom?”
“Yes, this tea set was the one that your mother used with her mother when she was young. Then when your mother was three, as you know, her mother died in a car crash and now all your mother had was this tea set, but now nothing at all and it’s almost Christmas.”
We cleaned up the glass, and put it in a little white garbage bag that would then be stored under my bed for the rest of my mother’s life. Then my father took all of my trophies and the twins’ trophies, placed them into the case where the tea set used to be, and went back to bed. I almost followed him, until I realized that my mother would need an explanation for why her tea set had been moved and more so who had nerve to touch her precious memory. So I turned on the T.V., flipped through the channels, and began to think of a plan, until I fell asleep.
I woke up to something lightly poking at my cheek. I sat up and felt something cold in my hand. I looked and of course, there was whipped cream in my hand, and as I peered over the other side of the couch I repeated a line from the book ’Twas the Night Before Christmas except I added my own twist on the words “And what to my wondering eyes should appear, but Max and Kayla and no reindeer.” They giggled and went to the table to eat breakfast. I followed them and as we began to eat our cereal, my mother started down the stairs. My stomach got tight, my palms got all sweaty, as I sat there with my spoon half way up to my mouth. My mother didn’t notice until she sat down at the table to eat breakfast. She shrieked and asked in a panicked voice “Where is my tea set?”
“I have a special Christmas present for you so you cannot know where the tea set is because it is part of the surprise.” replied my father.
“Okay, as long as it’s safe.”
My father did not reply to that statement because he knew that the tea set was smashed and was not safe.
As soon as my mother left for work my father was already dialing a phone number. I wasn’t sure who he was calling but I knew he was trying to replace the tea set. He told all of us to start decorating for Christmas, which was his supposed to be his job for the day, but since we had the day off because of Christmas, and everyone knew what had happened to the tea set we all helped out in making our house look like a gingerbread house. That day was perfect. My dad got the replicas of the tea set and we finished decorating the house.
Finally it was Christmas Eve. All the presents were wrapped and put under the tree, including the tea set with the short explanation of what had happened to the real tea set and how this was the best we could do replace it. We all anxiously waited for the next morning, when we would run down the stairs to see what Santa had brought us, but at the same time I was really nervous. We could ruin my mother’s Christmas with the gift we gave her. Tossing and turning, I laid in my bed, thinking about everything that could possibly happen, but I was so tired from all of our activities that day, that I fell asleep.
The next morning when I went downstairs, Kayla and Max already had all of the presents sorted and were waiting eagerly for someone to tell them they could open their presents. Finally they had their chance to open all their presents. Wrapping paper was flying everywhere as Kayla and Max just kept going. Our tradition is to let the kids that are younger than 10 go first and open all their presents and then everyone older than 10, opens their presents in a more orderly fashion. After Kayla and Max had finished they began to play with their new toys as we began to open our presents. We opened all of our presents saving my mother’s tea set for last. When she opened it, she first looked at the clean, polished tea set, and then she saw the note. She read it and surprisingly she didn’t cry, not even a tear shed from her eye. She smiled. “I figured that someday something would happen to the tea set, that’s why I kept the most special part of it a very safe place. I kept this tea cup,” she said as she pulled a tea cup out of a hidden pocket in her pajamas, “in a drawer in my dresser and so on days when most people would be near their family, I could put this tea cup, the one that my mother always drank out of, close to me and try to be close to all of my family too.” Now tears began to pour down her face and I went over and hugged her. Then we began to hear the joyful noise of Kayla and Max playing with their new toys and everyone began to laugh. It turned out to be the most perfect Christmas ever.

Connections to Saving Zoë

Tears poured down your face, your heart felt like it has been torn apart, the grief was filling your mind as you sat at your sister’s funeral. What would you do without your older sister? Alyson Noël’s book, Saving Zoë, is a book that can provoke thoughts in the minds of teenage girls.

Every girl dreams of having a perfect life, although it never happens. Everyone has had road blocks on their way through life, some big, some small. One of those road blocks is grief. By the age of 15, almost every girl has experienced this feeling, whether it be their grandfather or their sister who died.  Echo is 15 and it has been a year since her sister, Zoë died. She is starting high school and mostly anyone who is in or has been through high school can relate to that. No one’s life is perfect, and that’s why everyone can connect to this book.

There are plenty of things that anyone can connect to this book. For example, one of the many connections someone could have is knowing exactly how Echo feels. They could have had their sister die or a loved one pass away. Everyone has sympathy for for you if something like this happens, but the thing they don’t know is when to stop. This is how everyone treats Echo, watching what they say, trying to keep her happy, as if Zoë died yesterday,  not a year ago. Another connection someone might have could be about the other side of the book. They could have a connection with the relationship that Echo had with a boy named Parker. One more connection that you could make would be that Echo and her family have to learn to overcome the death of Zoë and the reader’s family might have to overcome something although it may not be death.

Many teenage girls can make connections to the book Saving Zoë. If someone else were to read this book, the would definitely agree with me.

Are You Proud of Your Country?

Author’s Note: Everyone is proud of their country for different reasons. This essay expresses why I am proud of my stunning country, the United States of America.

Why are people proud of their country? Some people might say it’s because of the brilliant athletes or the outstanding singers, while others are proud of their country for the things we have gained, such as freedom and noble veterans. These brave veterans have fought at home and in foreign lands for the sake of our freedom and the freedom of others. I, along with many other American citizens, am unquestionably proud of my country.

What if we didn’t have these soldiers to protect us? We'd have a awfully harsh life. Can you imagine how many attacks would be planned against us?  Unfortunately, some countries are like that.  They have no money and depend on something as simple as nature to provide food, water, shelter and many other necessities. Still even though these people are so poor and have barely anything, they still are attacked.  Luckily, the United States is there to help protect them.

Our soldiers have fought for us and for others all over the world, but what does it really take to be a soldier?  For one thing, you have to be brave because I am sure that it would be bloodcurdling having bullets coming at you quicker than you can even think of reacting. Those who survive the cruel wars are grateful yet devastated because even though they survived, they were forced to watch some of their friends die . Another quality of a soldier includes pride because if a soldier doesn't have pride they wouldn't go and risk their lives for their country.  These are the traits of a hero. How would it feel to know that the reason someone is living out their dreams because you saved their life? I don't know what it feels like to be the hero nor the victim, but some people do know the joy of being saved or saving someone.

We have a remarkable country.  Therefore, I am extremely proud of my astounding country, the United States of America. Everyone should know just how lucky we are to have such an incredible country.

Soccer is the Best

Author's Note: I wrote this essay because everyone should know that soccer is the best sport.

Your heart is pounding, you’re breathing heavily and there’s only a few seconds left in the game. You’d think that there would be a look of exhaustion on your face, but no, instead there is a smile. Out of all the sports someone could play, soccer is the best.


One of the many reasons that soccer is the greatest sport is it is good exercise. If anyone has enough exercise, they will be healthier. Can you imagine all the tiring work that people do when they play soccer? They have to sprint up and down the field, chasing a player or being chased.  Plus, when you play soccer you use your entire body.  For example, you use your hands and arms for throw-ins, your feet and legs for dribbling, passing, shooting and running, and you use your torso for power on your long balls, shots, or passes.  Even though people are exercising while playing, they are also having fun.


Another reason that soccer is the finest sport is that it is a pleasure to play.  There is friendly competition between players when they are battling for the ball or chasing each other towards the goal.  Maybe the competition is because of the desire that every player has, the desire to score a goal. When a goal is finally scored, the excitement is crazy. Can you imagine having a tie game and pulling your team into the lead in less than a second?  Although it only takes a second, the memory can last for years. For instance, I can still remember a goal that I scored two years ago. 


Whether you are young or old, soccer is for everyone. Soccer is definitely the best sport anyone could ever play.