Make Some Memories by Eve Curras

     This past Friday, my family and I embarked on the adventure of a lifetime.  It was on a warm and sunny morning that we entered that happiest place on Earth, residing in Orlando, Florida.  And no, it was not Disney World.  We entered a fantastic place of magic and discovery, home to nerds alike, Harry Potter World!

I first began reading the Harry Potter Series when I was seven years old.  I have no shame in saying that Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ron Weasley were my first friends.  Even from a young age, I greatly admired Harry's bravery, Hermione's wit, and Ron's absurd humor.  For me, going to Harry Potter World was like visiting my long, lost home and friends.  

     We embarked on this wonderful journey just one day after the day of gratitude, Thanksgiving.  I thought I should share this story simply because spending the day with my family taught me to truly value that life is about experiences and making memories.  On Black Friday, while other households were in the malls, buying mere possessions that are only temporary, I was having one of the best day's of life, making memories I will surely never forget.  (Jeez... Harry Potter World should have me write their adverts or something...). 

     The most memorable experience I'll take from my trip to Harry Potter World would be my trip to Olivander's, the wand shop.  Everyone who's read Harry Potter knows that when Harry first goes to Olivander's, he tries 3 wands.  The first two wands he touches are reckless and destructive, but it is the final and third wand, made from that of a Pheonix's feather, that is ultimately chosen.  This wand is also connected to that of Lord Voldemort's, foreshadowing what is to come.  

     When I first entered Olivander's, I had no idea what to expect.  Only thirty people were allowed in the small, dark room, lined head to toe with hundreds of different wands.  There was only one source of light, a dull glow emitting from a small lantern on top of what could only be Mr. Olivander's desk.  Suddenly, Mr. Olivander appeared on the staircase.  His accent, although horribly fake, was remarkable.  He looked down at the people standing before him, welcoming us and telling that there were two in this very room who were to be chosen.  Suddenly, he points to my brother, Ben, standing behind me.  "You!"  He yells in a loud, bellowing voice.  "And you,"  he lowers his finger to me, narrowing his eyes.  "Come closer."  We walked to his desk, grins plastered on our faces.  He asked us our names and if we knew each other.  After stating we were related, he asked who was the youngest.  Unfortunately, that's me.  It is a cross I had to bare.  "Well, Eve, how about we let you go first for a change?"  I was completely fine with this idea.  After scouring the shelves, he finally selected a small, black box.  Gently taking the wand from the box, he handed it to me.  "Now, Eve.  I want you to point at that wall over there, and when you do so, give your wand a flick and say "wingardium leviosa."  I felt as though my entire life had been leading up to this moment.  I'd peaked.  As I said the words and flicked the wand, the contents of the shelf flew in every direction and landed in an ugly mess on the floor.

     "Perhaps not,"  muttered Mr. Olivander, taking the wand from me.    He then gave my brother a different wand, this one I noticed was much more to my liking, and told him to ring the bell on the opposite side of the room, using his wand, just once.  No spell was necessary.  As Ben did so, the bell rang an alarming amount of times.  "No!"  Olivander yelled, frustrated.  "This just isn't right."  Suddenly he stopped.  "Hm, I wonder."  He narrowed his eyes, looking between my brother and I.  He then took the wands and gave the one I had to Ben, and his to me.  Suddenly, triumphant music began to play and a blast of wind hit Ben and I.  I am not exaggerating when I say we looked just as Harry did when he first touched his true wand in the picture below.

     Ben and I were ecstatic, as were our parents.  Of course we bought the wands, after all, they were chosen for us.  Or as said in the books, "Harry, the wizard does not choose the wand.  It is the wand that chooses the wizard."  I urge all those reading this post to realize that possessions and "things" are only temporary.  There is so much in the world to explore and discover.  So, get off the computer, or whatever device you are reading this on, and go outside.  Who knows, maybe you'll discover something magical.

A Rainbow of Hope By Mrs. Kopp

Tomorrow is Thanksgiving.  This year has gone by so quickly that it's hard to believe that the holiday season is about to start again.  During this time of year we all should take a minute to consider all that we have to be thankful for.  I know that my own list is pretty long, but here are few items that make my heart swell:

- I have a loving husband and two amazing children

The Kopp Family
This is in Central Park, NYC

-I get to wake up each day and come to work at a place that makes me so happy.
-I have the most wonderful students this school year (yes, you guys)
-I'm thankful for my weekly kickboxing and spin classes that allow me to decompress
-I'm thankful for books (obviously)
and my list could go on and on and on - I feel very blessed in this life. 

However, this year my family has something very special to be thankful for.  Last week, on November 18th, my new nephew Zachary Joseph was born.  His birth is more than just another baby to love.  He is our rainbow of hope. 

In 2011, my brother, Joe, and his wife, Jill, had their second child, a beautiful baby boy named Joey.  When they were expecting him they found out that he had a very serious heart condition, but they wanted to give him the best chance at life that they could.  Joey was born and then four days later went on to have his first open heart surgery.  After that surgery the doctors were positive, they felt they had fixed his heart issue and that he would live a long and normal life.  We were all thrilled. 

 Unfortunately, as he grew other issues came up.  He went on to have two more open heart surgeries and many, many other procedures.  He spent months at a time in the hospital, but through it all he was a happy little guy.  He would try to keep up with his older sister and big cousins and it was easy for us to forget that he was sick.  Then, in April of 2013, our world fell apart when Joey suddenly passed away.  Our family was left carrying a grief that was and still is so heavy, we often wondered how we'd ever function again.  Joey was only 22 months old when he died and we will spend the rest of our lives wondering who he would have grown up to be.  The pain of losing a child is one that no person should ever have to suffer and I often wondered how my brother and sister-in-law could face each new day without their son.  

My nephew, Joseph Anthony - at about 1 year old 

Joey showing off his scars - happy as always!

So, our family had a decision to make. We could stay in bed and let grief consume us or we could celebrate the wonderful boy that we were given. We took the the more difficult path. We decided to choose joy.  We chose joy for Joey. We started Joey's Warriors, which is a non-profit organization and we work to help other families whose children have CHD (congenital heart defect). Over the last three and a half years we have raised thousands of dollars for CHD awareness, we put a memorial bench at a local playground in Joey's honor, we provide toys for kids in the PICU at the hospital, we donate holiday gifts for two families who have CHD children, and more!  We will always miss Joey and wish he was still with us, but we remember him and honor him through our charity work. 

The doctors determined that Joey's condition was genetic, so my brother and sister-in-law had resigned themselves to the fact that they would not have any more children.  My niece Kylie (Joey's older sister) was healthy and they took comfort in that.  

Then, this past June they told us they were unexpectedly expecting a child and they were very scared.  We were all nervous because we knew that it was possible that this child could also have a heart condition and that thought alone was a lot to bear.  

Babies that are born after a loss are referred to as Rainbow Babies; babies who bring hope after the storm.  Last week, my nephew, Zachary Joseph, came into this world with a full head of hair and a perfectly perfect heart!  We believe that Joey sent him down to all of us to bring us some joy.  He is a miracle baby and our whole family is extra thankful this year for this Rainbow of Hope.  

Zachary Joseph - Our Rainbow of Hope

This was his going home outfit! 

Me with Zachary on the day he was born!

Happy Thanksgiving!

The Outsiders

This weekend, our school had put on the show The Outsiders as our fall drama. Playing the character of "Ponyboy," I had been able to put a lot of dedication into it, and the fall drama overall meant a lot to me. I want to discuss how it meant to be onstage, the aftermath, and what it might mean in the future. As silly as it seems, the community that is developed throughout this drama and the many others I have done has built a lot of who I am today and is something I am truly proud of.

Within the many weeks of practice and rehearsal for this show, I stressed over how it might end up. I had an extreme amount of lines to remember which stressed me out enough, but on top of that there were a lot of new freshman in my cast. This made me feel awkward, because I was so used to acting alongside the same people from previous years.
Kaela Panicucci, the actress who played "Darry," was a graduating senior. "You really have to be in the moment. So whenever I'm acting, I have to try and remember all of the finer points of preforming," she said. "This year, on top of all I just mentioned, there was also that nasty intruding thought that this is my last high school drama. So there's always a lot going through my head."
There was a point where giving up felt like an option, where I was thinking that the show was going to turn out so bad, that there was no point in trying too hard. When I was set up on the stage for the first time and the bright lights faded onto me, something changed. I was hit with a bolt of energy and adrenaline, knowing that I had people in the seats who paid for this experience. Not only that, but there were people who have seen me grow since 6th grade, people who have worked with me and have watched me pursue this hobby of acting. I saw the faces of previous high school drama students, teachers who have been watching me since middle school, and my family. the cast gave it their all, along with me, and the crowds' cheers assured us it was beyond enough.We had pulled through, and created a memorable show for lots of family and friends to witness.

Then came the aftermath. Every year after the last show, the cast mates of the drama have a cast party. This year, we all went over to a member's house and I can't say I didn't have a great time. We all were overflowing with gratitude, and just plain joy. It was nice knowing we could throw all of those lines and stress out of the window! It wasn't until about 11 at night when the seniors had come up with awards for not only the underclassmen, but their fellow seniors. This is a tradition, these awards. The seniors would line up and take turns to describe the chosen person they were going to specifically reward, until every cast member won one. Many were silly. For example, Alex Schuessler got the "Most Lines Ever" award, though she only had about 5 lines near the end of the play. This was all in good fun of course, as Alex stated, "My award reminds me how in the end, I only had five [lines], but those five or six lines allowed me to be part of a production that helped me create many friendships."
 For the cast mates who had been around for a while, some very sincere awards were handed out. Nina Strowe, who played the part of "Randy Anderson," had won the "Heartfelt Award." On this she said, "...I love it because she [Kaela Panicucci] had said she named it that because she couldn't think of something heartfelt to say....I love it because even though she didn't find something specific to say, she still put a lot of effort into the award and I really appreciate that." I can agree to what Nina had said, because I also got a very heartfelt award. I was given the "Mini Me" award from Jamie Corter, who played the role of "Cherry." I had been acting with Jamie since I was in 6th grade, so this award had really meant a lot to me. She is a spectacular actress, not to mention a creative and intelligent friend. I couldn't think of a better person to follow in the footsteps of.
As for the overall idea of the awards and this ritual, I hope to continue it for years to come. I spoke again to Nina Strowe on this idea, a senior by next year. She explained how much she loved the tradition, and could not wait to carry it out next year as a senior. She said, "I think it really shows how close us drama kids are and how welcoming and fond we are of each other. Everyone gets an award and every award is full of good memories and laughs we won't soon forget."

When I got home from the party, millions of thoughts filled my head at once. So many people have told me I am going to go somewhere great; do amazing things. I just can't help but to wonder, what if I never started drama? Would I ever even continue it if these kindhearted people and friends I have made along the way weren't here? I cannot deny that these shows and experiences have already shaped who I am as a person today, and I am absolutely magnanimous. Acting with these friends who I hold close to my heart gives me the uttermost joy, and is something I can remember as the best parts of my high school career. Looking at the award hanging on my wall directly next to the one from last year, and my black and white shirt with the big words reading, "Sparta High School Presents, the Outsiders," I can say that the times I shared within the past month are indelible and have left me with memorabilia of where I first started.

Gold by Juleanna Green

    I was falling.
    Not the fast, my God, I’m going to die, type of falling.
    But the slow, graceful kind.
    It was beautiful. I felt a soft breeze, like breath in the air. I could smell Spring. A golden sunset was all I could see. It was like autumn colors, like fireworks, like…. like his hair.
    But who was he? Who was this young man, whom I saw so vividly in my mind? His perfect hair, his loving smile, his knowing eyes. His eyes were emerald, and they seemed to look directly into my own eyes, as though he knew me. Yet I could not recall anything about him.
    But I had no time to think about that now. Just by the feel of the air, I knew I was nearing my final destination. I was in my final moments, as I began to plummet towards the ground, destined for my life to end, now, with no memories of who I was, of where I was from, of who he was.
    I closed my eyes, preparing for impact. Instead of ground, though, my back was greeted by water- or at least what felt like water. It created the same kind of splash, and I was still falling, slowly as though submerged, but I could breath. As if by magic, I landed gently in a small clearing, trees creating a ring around the grass. Nearby, a river whispered, ever so softly, pleading with me to come closer, to relax in it’s waters, to be free.
    Slowly, I stood up. I felt a sharp, agonizing pain in my chest, but it was gone as quickly as it had come. Solemnly, I studied my surroundings, hoping against hope that I would know where I was, to no avail. It was neither dark nor light, like dusk, right before the last of the sunlight slipped away. I circled the clearing multiple times, unsure of which of three found paths I should follow.
One was littered with beautiful spring flowers, and I could feel the warmth radiating from the inside of the forest; this was most pleasing to my eyes.
    Another, directly across the clearing, was dark and damp, yet omitted truth throughout the trees, amongst the boughs; this was most pleasing to my mind.
    The third and final way was dimly lit, the trees intimately woven, so little to no light, of what little there was, could be seen. It was mysterious, the path nearly overgrown, and of this one I was most curious; this was the most pleasing to my heart.
    After long contemplation, I chose the latter of the three. Slowly but surely, I stepped out into my chosen path- that was when I first realized that I was barefoot. Noticing this, I stopped and assessed the rest of my garments. A long, flowing white dress that fell to the ground and almost covered my feet, with three-quarter sleeves and a gold rope tied around the middle. Although beautiful at one point, it was now tattered from the waist down, scratched and torn and covered in dirt. Curious, I thought, but I had to trudge onwards- I don’t know how, but I knew that I had to find something, or someone. Maybe it was him.
    The path seemed to go on forever, and I began to wonder if it was getting to be late; but how could it have been, when it was no more darker than it had been when I began? After what seemed like hours and hours of blindly following a compact, barely visible trail, I found it. The river.
    It gleamed silver, white foam bubbling along the sides. The water flowed by, sleepy yet steadfast. From one bank to another, a fallen tree laid uprooted across the stream. Calmly and gracefully, I balanced my way over the log, but stopped at the center, where I sat down and put one foot into the brook beneath me. A strange ripple was created when my toes entered the water; the liquid travelled around my foot.
    Out of nowhere, a dog padded up besides me and laid himself across the log. He was a golden retriever, with long golden hair. Gold, I thought, reaching out to touch his fur. As my fingers laced between the silky hairs that covered his body, I was overwhelmed by a memory:
    A boy with hair the color of the sun, and girl beside him. Laying on a blanket, in the woods. He wore a button-up, short-sleeved shirt, the top two or three buttons undone, and black pants. She wore a long, white dress, with a golden rope or ribbon tied about her waist. Her dirty-blonde hair was in a braid draped over her left shoulder. Her brilliantly blue eyes lit up with joy as she talked with the young man. They were laughing together, about their dog, a long-haired golden retriever, who had somehow managed to fall into the river. He came over to them, happy and drenched, and began to cuddle with them, much to their playful dismay.
    My eyes came back into focus. I removed my foot out of the stream, and looked down at my reflection. The most stunning thing I noticed about my facial features were my eyes. They were bright blue, like the sky on a spring morning. I looked back up again, and felt for my hair. It was a bit undone, but it unmistakably had been in a braid.
    Suddenly, I heard a quiet twang from behind me in the forest. Before I could turn around, the ache in my chest had returned, although this time it did not go away. I forced my head down, to see what had happened, dreading what I thought to be true. Sticking out from the middle of by chest was an arrow, with a bright red tip. I felt blood dripping out of my chest, and saw it drip, drip, drip, into the creek below. In my mind flashed another memory, that made me remember him, remember everything.
    Blood gurgled in the boy’s mouth, a broken arrow lodged in his abdomen; it had broken when he fell to the ground, so one half lay beside him while one half remained inside of him. He looked up at her; his eyes now seemed pale green, not as bright as they once were.
    “Run,” he said to her, as she cradled his body against hers. “Go!”
    She didn’t want to leave him, but knew what she must do. Grieving, she took off, not knowing where she was headed, nor if they were still behind her. She felt her dress tear on thorns and branches, but she did not have time to stop. They would be upon her soon.
    Suddenly, the trees opened up, and there was nothing. Just the end. She turned around, and saw her foe, emerging from the trees. Desperately, she turned back towards the abyss, hoping that she missed something, begging the universe for one last chance. Once she heard the sound of the bow string being pulled back, she knew it was too late. She stood tall, one last defiance; she would not go down afraid. She heard the string release an arrow, as though in slow motion, and felt it sink into her skin. She turned, unsure of what to do, but lost her balance,and fell, back first, into the unknown. She looked up at the bright gold sunset, and closed her eyes.
     Back in the present, I was drifting away. I realized then that I had been carrying this wound for my whole journey. I just hadn’t been able to remember that it was there. My head began to spin, and I had to lay down. No, I tried to tell myself, You have to sit up. You have to stay strong. You have to live! But I was so tired… Just a short rest. My left arm hung off of the log, my fingertips dragging in the current. The dog came back, though I hadn’t even realized he was gone, and began to lick my back, around the arrow shaft; licking my wounds.
    I felt my last bit of strength begin to drain out of my body, and closed my eyes to the sweet song of the river, its tide washing away the crimson stain of my blood, soon to forget me and my memories.

A Personal Anecdote, by Derek Campbell

  
Recently, a friend of mine (for some strange reason) decided to start writing a bit of a short story. It is a fantasy tale of magic and wonder, reminiscent of traditional Norse Mythology with a bit of a Game of Thrones feel. Enter Yae Segour, a kingdom of people edged deep into a stone volcano after one man slain the dragon of the volcano. After a merge with the magic realm of Airaht, the protectors of the keep (known as the Yaenai) learned magic to further protect their home. After all that exposition we are introduced to a peculiar child and his mentor Balathor, to which the child had just slain a dragon in a very unconventional way. Aside from that, not much else happens in the first chapter, but have have been promised a possible second chapter. I found the story very intriguing, and the fact that a good friend of mine started writing it made it all the more interesting. NOTE: the story has entirely created by my friend, and i merely had the joy reading it and making suggestions. Overall, i'm very excited for the next part of this epic.