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“Everyone listen up! On your task card it will say what you will be helping with. Now buckle up and get working,” bellowed the president. The old man picked up his trash grabber and began to clean the entrance of the beach while everyone was still grumbling about having to work on a Sunday. His crew was behind on Beach Restoration Thirty-Four due to an absence of a squad leader, so the president had to come down and organize an extra day of work to catch up. The old man didn’t mind, and the ocean always reminded him of the stories his father used to tell him, such as the beautiful turquoise mixed water and how there were countless animals roaming in oceans. And you could even swim in it! Now, if anyone stepped foot in the ocean, they would have to spend days in the decontamination zone to get all of the toxins out. After picking up around four bags of rubbish, it was lunchtime and everyone surrounded the bonfire to heat up their lunch. Lunch came in a slab of gray block in a metal container, and you had to melt it next to the fire to make it into a soup. As the old man heated up his block, he looked at all of the dejected faces, and said, “Did you guys know that the ocean used to be blue? And that you could see birds flying over it?”
“ Yeah, like that ever happened,” interrupted Charlie, a young man in the old man’s group.
The old man didn’t argue any further and slurped down his gray stew that he heated by the fire. The old man always ate his lunch quickly to get a headstart on his quota. He walked back to the beach, walking on the piles of garbage that were lined up against the ground. During the cleaning, he spotted a collar on the ground. It read, “Carl.” What a coincidence, the old man thought. His father’s dog when he was a child was also named Carl. Back then, apparently, there were so many animals that people were allowed to just own some as pets. His father owned one of those animals: it was called a dog. His father named it Carl. The old man was always confused on why his father would name an animal, but apparently there were enough dogs around that you had to name them to keep track. A sad, nostalgic smile appeared on the old man’s face, and suddenly he felt as if he had to defend his father’s stories. The old man went back to his group who finally started eating, and said, “No, really. Back in the day, the beach had sand on the ground. It wasn’t lined up with garbage.”
Charlie rolled his eyes and replied, “Okay, sure. And there was food everywhere and everyone got along great.”
“Well, then, tell me. What’s underneath all the garbage?”
“Probably more garbage.”
“And underneath that?”
Charlie snickered and said, “That’s like asking what’s underneath all of the water in the ocean. It’s just all water.”
The old man sighed, his early found vigor gone. He sat down and closed his eyes. Even though he never saw his father’s childhood, he could picture it as clearly as he could see his face. The old man began to speak,
“Listen, I know this sounds like the ramblings of an old man. But I heard it from my old man, and he never lied. The past wasn’t perfect, but it was also a paradise. You could see these green things growing on the ground. And the ground! It was actually a solid mass. It wasn’t the piles of garbage we see today.
The food grew from this ground. Not from factories miles away. There were animals. Some were friends. Some were food. And others were free. We didn’t need a mask to breathe. We didn’t need to take pills and pills to get the poison out of our body. Everything was there, and we were free.
But we grew lazy. Apparently no one cared to take care of the world. The environment rotted away and soon, people got scared and began fighting over the last bits of paradise that was left. And they kept fighting, until everything was blown up and only some of us were left.
I know you guys don’t care about this work. And I am not going to live long enough to see this clean world that my father has talked about. But if we work hard enough, perhaps your children, or your children’s children, can see a clear sky and a blue ocean again.”
The old man looked up, hoping to see people nodding in agreement. However, everyone had already finished lunch and left the old man.
“ Yeah, like that ever happened,” interrupted Charlie, a young man in the old man’s group.
The old man didn’t argue any further and slurped down his gray stew that he heated by the fire. The old man always ate his lunch quickly to get a headstart on his quota. He walked back to the beach, walking on the piles of garbage that were lined up against the ground. During the cleaning, he spotted a collar on the ground. It read, “Carl.” What a coincidence, the old man thought. His father’s dog when he was a child was also named Carl. Back then, apparently, there were so many animals that people were allowed to just own some as pets. His father owned one of those animals: it was called a dog. His father named it Carl. The old man was always confused on why his father would name an animal, but apparently there were enough dogs around that you had to name them to keep track. A sad, nostalgic smile appeared on the old man’s face, and suddenly he felt as if he had to defend his father’s stories.
The old man went back to his group who finally started eating, and said, “No, really. Back in the day, the beach had sand on the ground. It wasn’t lined up with garbage.”
Charlie rolled his eyes and replied, “Okay, sure. And there was food everywhere and everyone got along great.”
“Well, then, tell me. What’s underneath all the garbage?”
“Probably more garbage.”
“And underneath that?”
Charlie snickered and said, “That’s like asking what’s underneath all of the water in the ocean. It’s just all water.”
The old man sighed, his early found vigor gone. He sat down and closed his eyes. Even though he never saw his father’s childhood, he could picture it as clearly as he could see his face. The old man began to speak,
“Listen, I know this sounds like the ramblings of an old man. But I heard it from my old man, and he never lied. The past wasn’t perfect, but it was also a paradise. You could see these green things growing on the ground. And the ground! It was actually a solid mass. It wasn’t the piles of garbage we see today.
The food grew from this ground. Not from factories miles away. There were animals. Some were friends. Some were food. And others were free. We didn’t need a mask to breathe. We didn’t need to take pills and pills to get the poison out of our body. Everything was there, and we were free.
But we grew lazy. Apparently no one cared to take care of the world. The environment rotted away and soon, people got scared and began fighting over the last bits of paradise that was left. And they kept fighting, until everything was blown up and only some of us were left.
I know you guys don’t care about this work. And I am not going to live long enough to see this clean world that my father has talked about. But if we work hard enough, perhaps your children, or your children’s children, can see a clear sky and a blue ocean again.”
The old man looked up, hoping to see people nodding in agreement. However, everyone had already finished lunch and left the old man.
92, splash, 93, 94, 95, 96, 97, splash, 98, 99, 100! Boom!! Hale, swimming ferociously finally touched the touchpad. Hale was in the pool. She had challenged herself to swim her favourite breast stroke 6 laps! She swam like an otter. She glanced at her waterproof watch. One thirty! She has spent two and half hours in the pool. Hale’s tummy rumbled. She thought of her plate of yummy red rice with a generous piece of fish, mixed grain curry and her favourite spinach omelet waiting for her at home. Of course, how can she forget the lemon juice, waiting to be in her watering mouth! She quickly dried herself and cycled home on her bicycle. She was whistling like a little nightingale! She felt so good. Working out always made her hungry in a good way. ‘I need a good rest too’ Hale thought ‘…. and a good book to read’. Beep Beep! Went her messenger. It was Ms. Rose. Ms. Rose was her netball coach. “Hale, we have a netball camp tomorrow.” Ms. Rose always made her happy! She was in the seventh heaven!
BOOM! BOOM! WOOSH! GET HIM! FIRE! GET HIM! AARG! I have to try again!!! Hadeon was yanking at his video game console vigorously. He was playing a brutal video game. All around him were few spilled fizzy drinks, a half-eaten burger and some extra cheesy pizza wedges. His face was smeared with sauce. His nanny who had enough of all the chaos poked her head from the kitchen, ‘Turn off that thing, clean up and do your homework! Don’t be a couch potato!’ Hadeon stuck his tongue out and ignored her. His homemade food was on the dining table. ‘That is junk, not burgers!’ Hadeon thought eying his untouched food disgustedly. His nanny went away. ‘Haa… Good! She won’t bother me again.’ Hadeon thought. Beep Beep! Went his messenger. It was Dr. Severus. Dr. Severus was his family doctor. “You have to come for a blood test tomorrow.” Hadeon groaned! He hated needles! What if he gets a bad blood test?
Choices…. Life is all about choices. Good choices make a good life. Bad choices make the life bad. Life depends on choices. We are what we choose to be. Choices bring chances and changes; it is up to us to be clever and choose the best. Our lifestyle is our choice. Our choices on food, sports, environment, friends and hobbies will bring us to our true destiny. Packing a lunch, riding to school, climbing few steps and going for a short walk are small choices making a big difference.
‘Health is wealth’ the wisest said. But the whole human race is blindly going behind wealth, ignoring health. Wealth over health is always a bad choice. One loses a lot rather than gaining when they are not healthy. But what is health? Health is quite a simple word with a simple meaning. It means to have a strong mental health and physical health. Without diseases to your body or mind. A healthy outside start from a healthy inside. The healthy inside is your body and mind. Then there may be a question popping up in your head. Can we improve our health from what we have now? Is it possible? Yes of course, we can! And it is our choice. Walking outside enjoying nature instead of going in a car to get fast food. A nice long chess game with a friend over a violent video game. Home - made packed lunch over a starchy and oily burger bun.
Being a strong picture of health is our choice. Good choices bring better chances and better changes, like with Hale. Bad choices do quite the opposite, like with Hadeon. Hadeon is after short-term happiness which won’t last long. On the other hand, Hale enjoys both short-term and long-term happiness. Good choices – long-term happiness. Bad choices – quite short-term happiness.
So, what is your choice? I chose the goodness. Goodness of life. Never delay it till tomorrow when you can start a healthy life right now. Clean environment, mental strength, physical strength, clean sufficient food, clean sufficient water, friends to laugh and play with! Isn’t that even BETTER than wealth?
Do my choices change the world? I am just a single tiny human in this wide world. But again, I am a part of this world no matter how small I am. If I change, my family will change. Then the community will change, then the village, and then the country. Asia, Africa, North America, South America, Antarctica, Europe, Australia and then the whole world. We just need few changes everywhere. World is us. So, the changes should start from us. We may stumble but we always can try again. Every person changed, will take us one step closer to a healthy world.
Remember the world is ours. It is our responsibility to shape it.
I remember a long time ago when I was still a little pup; Grandfather Fox came to our cozy, little den for a Christmas dinner. While we waited for Mother to finish cooking, Grandfather Fox told us a tale of his childhood. The only reason I am now writing it down is because it really was a very good tale. I will tell you all I can remember. Grandfather Fox told it like this, “When I was a young chap, not much older than the all of you, for I had just turned one, I went out to get some dinner for my mother, since it was her birthday and all.
“I knew the best place to get my dear Mummy’s favorite, chicken. Ah yes, she loved chicken more than anyone I have ever known. The special place was Ol’ Farmer Joe’s chicken coop.
“‘It’s swarming with the birds,’ Mummy always told me, so I went right there and searched out the fattest hen there was. I found her sitting on a nest sure to be full of eggs.
“‘Oh!’ thought I. ‘Now we will get hen and we shall also have an egg or two.’
“I was a greedy chap back then and didn’t know how to hunt very well either. Yes, these were two of my greatest flaws, and because of the latter I walked right up to that fat hen and told her, ‘I’m going to kill you and eat your eggs.’
“’Really, are you?’ asked the hen, ‘If so, I should run away from you.’ So, she got up to leave, and as she did, I heard a little crack under her foot. Then, that fat hen looked right at her foot and let out a sad sigh.
“’What’s happened?’ asked I.
“’I have just cracked an egg,’ she answered in the saddest tone of voice that I have ever heard, but that wasn’t all she said. She added with a stifled sob, ‘That doesn’t matter now. If you are going to eat me and my eggs, what do I have to mourn if one has cracked?’
“I could not kill this mother that was as loving as my own. ‘Oh, please don’t cry my dearest hen!’ I exclaimed. ‘I did not mean to frighten you and am ashamed that I ever thought of eating you!’ Then, I started to cry, not only because I had planned on eating the fat hen, but also because I had no dinner for my dear, dear Mummy.
“Then, the kind hen, well, she took my paw and asked me why I was crying. So, I answered in pure truth, ‘My Mummy won’t have no dinner!’ I sobbed.
“‘Well then,’ answered the darling hen, ‘you can have the egg that I accidently cracked when trying to escape. It is of no worth to me because you cannot have a chick from a cracked egg.’
“My tears dried when I heard the hen’s kind words. Then, a strange thought happened to pass through my mind, so I asked her, ‘What do you usually do with your broken eggs?’
“She thought about this for a while and then answered, ‘Well, I usually just throw them out.’
“Then my eyes must have twinkled as I thought of the best way to use those so-called useless eggs.”
Grandfather Fox gave us a wink and then continued.
“’Would you give all the eggs that you happen to break to me?’ I asked.
“The hen answered yes, so for my Mummy’s birthday she got a beautiful egg. And that is the end.”
One of my sisters who had gotten into stories with a moral at the end, asked Grandfather Fox, “What is the moral to this story?”
All of us pups nodded our little heads up and down, “What is the moral?”
Grandfather Fox had to think quick, but luckily enough for him his brain was made for things like this. Not wasting a second he answered, “The moral to my fine story is, ‘When you work together, the world becomes a healthier place,’ or at least it did in my story.”
“How did the world become a healthier place?” asked my youngest brother.
“Well,” laughed Grandfather Fox, “in the end I got food, and the hen, Mrs. Cluckington, got to live, as well as seven eggs, which have led to many generations of termite eating chicks.”
“Are termite eating chicks a good thing?” I asked.
“My, you pups are full of questions, aren’t you?” He laughed a laugh that sounded like thunder rumbling through a forest. “I’ll answer you this question and then it’s my turn to ask you something. Yes, termite eating chicks are good, and in case you’re wondering what is good about them, I’ll tell you. The good thing is that the tree above your heads hasn’t fallen and destroyed your cozy, little den because those chicks ate the termites who wanted to eat that tree.”
I thought about what he had said until it made sense.
Then, Grandfather Fox asked us his question.
“And that isn’t all the good that came from that day. Who knows what we are going to eat for this Christmas dinner?"
The scent of fried eggs floated through the air.
As I walked out of the airport, I immediately noticed something was different in the atmosphere. There were bottles, cans, and other pieces of trash littered outside. The air felt heavy with smog, and it was hard to breathe. As our taxi drove us to our grandparents’ flat in Delhi, we each took our masks out of our bags and put them on. In Delhi, the air could be so polluted that people would sometimes have to buy cans of fresh air to breathe. The next day, we went on a tour of the Taj Mahal and were educated about its structure and history. As we were walking toward it, I noticed the sides were a different color. The Taj Mahal had been built with white marble, but the sides of it had turned a brownish-green.
“Funny how that happens,” someone said in Hindi. As I turned around, I saw an old woman who was probably in her nineties. “India used to be so beautiful.”
“What happened?”
“It was all ruined by pollution."
“What can we do about it?” I asked, looking back at the wall.
“Someone like you could help.”
“How?” I turned around to look at her again, but she was gone.
As we drove back from the Taj Mahal, I thought more and more about what the old lady had said. Someone like me? What was I supposed to do? How could I help stop pollution? I looked out the window of our car and noticed how the people walking along the streets. Some store owners were even throwing their filled-up trash bags there too. I couldn’t believe my eyes. No one even seemed to care. That night, I took out my laptop and started researching India's pollution. The articles I found stated that in the1950’s, India became polluted by factories and vehicles, with 85 percent of the pollution caused by garbage, biomass, and coal. It also seemed that many people in poverty had not been educated about pollution and how much it can harm the environment. I stopped to think. How could I teach them about pollution? And then it struck me. I could form a class to let them know. I told my family about my idea. My grandparents were especially excited because the neighborhood would get cleaner. They suggested I hold the class in the clubhouse of the apartment complex. The next day, I created several posters and advertising the class.Within two hours, all ten spaces on the sign-up sheet were filled! A success! I thought. This was the first step to getting people to help. The rest of the week, I researched the causes of pollution online and at the nearby library. I also talked to some environmental organizations to find out possible solutions. Finally, it was the day of the class. The room was already full of people of all different ages, even more than the ones on my list. There was a young couple with a very chubby baby, a mother with her arrogant teenage son and his little sister, a young woman wearing expensive clothing, an old couple, and a lot of other people. I looked around the room once more and then began my presentation. As I handed out papers and pencils for a group activity, the teenager got up and threw his sheets in the trash.
“What’s the point?” the kid said mockingly. His mother gave him a deathly stare, and he walked back to his seat. “It isn’t like anyone is dying from this,” he mumbled
This annoyed me, but I ignored it. “What if this doesn’t have any effect?” I thought as I watched a few people begin the role-playing activity. They were having fun and laughing, but what if they didn’t understand how serious this was?
“It’s so nice to see someone take action,” I heard a familiar voice say. I turned around, and to my delight, I saw the old lady from the Taj Mahal again!
I smiled and showed her my binder full of research.
“That is quite amazing!” she said as she flipped through the pages of information I had put together. A page fell out and drifted to the floor. I stooped down and picked it up. “Would you like to join the group-” I began, but by the time I stood up, she was gone. I glanced down at the paper. It said three words: Talk to him.
“We’re going to host a clean-up day! Make sure you tell everyone about it!” I then passed out multiple sheets of paper to each group for them to make posters. I hope this goes well, I thought.
It was finally the day of the clean-up. I made sure I had all the supplies.
“Trash bags!” my grandmother yelled while looking at a list.
“Check!” I replied as I opened the box.
“Gloves!”
“Check!”
“Sanitizers!”
“Nope!”
“I’ll go get some. Make sure you check everyone in and get them started,” she said and then started towards the store.
Just then, I saw multiple people arriving, including the snooty teen. Oh, dear.
Right from the start, he kept complaining about how litter wasn’t going to harm anyone, and I nearly fell over from laughing when his sister whacked him with a bottle for being annoying. I then noticed she had taken off her mask. I went over to tell her that she should put it on, but before I could, the teenager blocked me.
“Nothing’s going to happen to her. Why do you care so much about cleaning the environment?” With that, he walked away and sat in a corner.
“Stupid boy,” I muttered. But my anger didn’t last long when I heard people yelling for someone to call an ambulance. I ran over to see what was happening and noticed the boy’s sister lying unconscious.
“I’ll call 112!” I shouted.
The ambulance rushed her to the hospital, and I followed with my grandmother in a taxi. As we were sitting in the waiting room with the family, the teenage boy sat staring down at his hands.
The girl’s mother and the doctor walked into the room. “What happened?” I asked.
“She seemed to get sick because of the polluted air,” the doctor replied. The boy’s eyes immediately widened.
“But, the pollution doesn't hurt anyone. That isn’t possible!” the boy said, his tone becoming more aggressive.
“It injures a lot of people,” the doctor replied. “ She'll be fine in a day or so.”
As the doctor and the mother left the room, I looked at the teenager. “You see, it is deadly to people.”
“Yeah, I guess. I didn’t realize it could be so dangerous,” he said, looking down.
“She’ll be ok,” I said. “We have to get back to the cleaning. Care to join?” I smiled.
He grinned as we walked out of the hospital.
A year later, while scrolling through my news feed, I saw an article about a teenager cleaning the roads near my grandparents’ apartment. I couldn’t believe it! It was the same arrogant teen who had become my friend. And he was standing beside the old lady!
I had finally done it! I had created the cure for insomnia - no, not “sleeping pills” which are temporary and can have terrible side effects - this was a real cure, with almost zero toxic chemicals. This cure would have to be tested, of course, but I was sure that this version would work. My past cures had very minor flaws, and when making this one, I took all those flaws into account. “Hey, I think I’ve done it!” I yelled across the lab. My lab mates quickly moved towards my desk to see what I had made. I carefully explained each component of the cure and what it did. Most of them looked convinced. The next day, I had to wake up extremely early. The CEO of our company wanted to meet me! I drove to the headquarters of Xedicine. The CEO shook my hand and told me to explain again the cure I had created. I walked him through it, but I didn’t expect him to understand any of it-- after all, he was just a businessman, and I was the actual scientist. To my surprise, he seemed to comprehend, and said, “I see no problems with this, let’s take it to the animal testing stage, and then if that succeeds, we’ll start human testing.” Contrary to popular belief, animals can get insomnia. Restlessness and pacing are some of the biggest symptoms of insomnia in an animal. In the past, our animal testing always seemed to fail. Either nothing happened, or in one particular disastrous case, the animals died. If the cure got past this stage, it was already a big deal. The following day, we began animal testing. We tested it on mice, dogs, and monkeys, all of which had shown symptoms of insomnia. To my relief, the cure passed all the tests!
“We’re making great progress,” my friend Jim, who worked in the same lab as me, said after one long day of tests. “If this is really the cure that will permanently eliminate insomnia, you might become famous.”
“That would be cool,” I said. “But we still have the human tests to pass next.”
“Yeah, hopefully those go smoothly. I’m not liking the amount of hours I’m spending at work anyway. What time do you usually go home?”
I shook my head. The past few days, I had been staying overnight at work because there was simply too much to do. I slept whenever there was time, often in my car, because my house was so far away from the lab.
“Around four in the morning…”
When the human tests began, I was unsure how we would track the subjects' sleep rates in order to check if the cure was taking effect. We decided to just allow the subject to wear a device that tracks their sleep.
The next day, I was called to the CEO’s office once again.
“We’ve taken a look at your work and we think you deserve to be promoted to lab director,” he said.
Obviously, I accepted. As I turned to leave, the boss stopped me briefly.
“Are you getting enough sleep? You look exhausted.”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t worry about it.”
A month later, the cure had passed the human trials and was finally ready for public release. The day before the public release (I was to be there; after all, I was now the director of the lab that created it) I was exhausted. I had barely slept in the past few weeks and I decided that in order to stay awake during the release, I would sleep for as many hours as my body needed. I was so sleep-deprived that I needed a full 15 hours of sleep in order to get back on my normal sleep schedule. Ironic. While I was trying to cure a disorder that did not permit sleep, I myself was not able to sleep. Because I realized my mistake in not getting enough sleep, I woke up the next day feeling energetic and ready for the public release of the medicine. This was it! I’d be world-famous after this, known as the man who saved the livelihoods of many people. Gone were the days when people would be too sleep-deprived to go to work or school - that was in the past. Now, we would have a new world, where people could do whatever they wanted during the day because they would be able to rest at night. I had slept enough and was ready to go to the release. That was, until I got to the office where the CEO was going to be giving his statement. No one was even there! For a second, I was confused - did I have the wrong time? I could’ve sworn it said it was at 3:40 p.m. I checked the email again. It said 8:40 a.m. I had slept right through the event! My heart sank. Then the disappointment turned into panic. How would my boss take it? I had just been promoted, and I had just missed the biggest event of my career! My sleep deprivation caused me to see the 8 as a 3! Shortly afterward, I called my boss and explained the situation. To my relief, he was not angry - at least not as much as I expected. He said he was glad that I was able to get sleep- after all, I had developed a cure to help people sleep better; it was ironic that I myself did not sleep. He also let me know that I had just made his company look bad in front of the cameras, and that if it happened again he would have to take action. I did not want to find out what that action would be. I promised this was the last time I would oversleep. I had barely escaped, but my medicine would finally be able to change the world. What I realized is that even though I had created a cure for loss of sleep, I, as the creator, needed to get enough sleep myself.
A young, haggard wolf roamed a vast wood’s dense terrain, disgusted with himself and his fate. Health is a funny thing, he thought, so wanted, even adored, yet so easily forgotten. He had drunk from the very stream his pack had told him not to even go near since he was nothing but a newborn. Was it the terrible thirst he had felt that indulged him to do such a thing, or maybe the fact that no one was there to tell him not to? Even as his lips touched the water’s surface, he could feel the decay fill his body and his fur wilt like dry leaves. He had defied all reason and drunk from the river that no plant nor creature dare enter, and he had paid for it. The pack wouldn’t let him back in, but instead directed him down a trail, telling him that healing was at the end of it. So, he wandered through the forest, and wherever he stepped the grass withered, spreading filth and contamination to the world around him.
One night under an endless array of starry constellations, the wolf found a dead fire’s ashes nestled by a decaying log. As he sniffed through the char, he encountered a slab of bacon, which he gobbled up greedily. The next morning, he saw signs of recent disturbance in the grasses by where he had slept, but soon forgot about it as he continued his journey.
The trail was hard, filled with dagger-like thorns and razor-sharp stones. No animals dared near him for fear of the poison that surrounded him like a mist; not even the black buzzards followed his trail. Even so he never starved, for somehow every morning a slab of thick bacon lay near his gnarled head. By this sustenance he made his journey, never stopping but for the dark curtain of night.
It was the fifth day of the second week since he had started when the wolf spotted through squinted eyes a large cave appearing to him as the mouth of a great beast ready to gobble him up, if he were to get near it. The wolf sniffed the air; he could sense that something was wrong. For some reason, he couldn’t comprehend, his mind was telling him not to go near that cavernous hole in the crust of the earth. Here he felt his weakest. Before, he could follow the trail without thinking over anything, but here he was met with a decision. If the trail led into the cave, then surely healing was on the other side.
Gathering his courage, like a man would a diamond, the wolf stumbled toward the cave. As he neared the long waving reeds that crowned the cavern’s entrance with green splendor, he heard the echo of footsteps rebound against the cave’s stony walls. Hesitating once more, the wolf considered his options. Either he would follow the trail, or he would wander the woods until his frail being finally ceased working and his body became food for the worms of the ground. He might as well try. So thinking, the wolf lay a wobbling and trail-worn paw upon the cave’s cold floor and slowly made his way. After a while, he started passing small weeds here and there, and instead of withering like dust as he neared, the miniscule greenery continued being full and alive. Eventually he passed so many green stalks and pointed leaves that he began to wonder how the greenery could survive so far away from the sun. Suddenly, the wolf felt a joy burst from within him like nothing he had felt before, and despite his sickly condition he started running ahead, oblivious to what lay before of him.
The wolf yelped as he crashed against a solid, yet soft, object. He could feel his bones rattling as the furry mass before him got up on its hind legs and roared. Not hesitating for a moment, the wolf scampered away from the lion’s dagger-like claws. But it was too late. With a howl of pain, the wolf was launched from off the ground and crashed against the cave’s wall. Suddenly a man jumped out of the darkness and grappled the lion to the floor. Screeching, the lion outstretched one razor sharp claw to strike at the man’s neck, but before it could the man swerved round so that he was sitting on the lion’s back. Then, pulling a long knife out from a scabbard at his side, the man stabbed the lion in the side of its neck. The lion howled, and suddenly, with angered ferocity, bucked the man from off its back. As the man fell to the floor, the lion, using the last of its dying strength, lunged forward and bit the man across the neck. Then, with a triumphant look it staggered for a moment and fell to the floor, crushing the man’s body.
The wolf had seen it all. Why would that man, a stranger, lose his own life in exchange for a creature like himself, who was half-dead. The man had seemed young. Maybe the man knew about the spring that would heal him, maybe he had been following him the entire time. The wolf started. So that was how he had made his journey, living off the sustenance given to him by a man he had never met. The wolf felt more than touched. This stranger had done more than just feed him and remove obstacles; this man had saved his life and he would not let it be done in vain.
Groaning, the wolf struggled to his feet. He would make it to the spring, but how? The cave’s walls met at a dead end. The wolf staggered across the cave and wobbled toward the man’s body. The lion’s great bulk lay over top of it like a rag. In a desperate, yet useless, attempt to heave the heavy load from off the body beneath it, he saw the man’s face. It was stone pale, and a trickle of blood dribbled out onto the floor where the lion had bit him. The wolf mournfully watched as the blood ran down the stone floor like a tiny river and collided against the cave’s wall. Suddenly, a sound like thunder rebounded through the cave, and the stone walls cracked open. Through it he could see a faint light. The wolf stumbled through the tunnel, slowly, but surely. Eventually, he saw water’s swirling reflection on the cave’s walls, and soon enough, he found himself in a stone room. Many plants grew there, and in the center, there lay a pool of water, clean and crystal clear. Surely this was the healing that the other wolves had told him about. The wolf stooped down and took a drink. Immediately, as gold leaves a fool’s pockets, so too did the poison leave his body. He could feel his fur regain its original state, and instead of the pain that had continually pestered him throughout his entire journey, he felt a clean wholeness that spread through his body like a rushing wave. Finally, through toil and sacrifice, he was clean.
Jim was an 8-year-old boy who lived in Texas with his parents and his little brother 3-year-old Max, and their dog Boots. He loved spending time with his family and going on trips. It was Monday morning and Jim was very excited as it was field day at school. They were visiting a farm today. He was the first in his class and helped Mrs.Smith, his teacher with getting the class ready.
All the kids were super excited and boarded the school bus. Mrs. Smith said “We are here” after a long time but Jim couldn’t see any farm outside. Suddenly the school bus stopped. Mrs. Smith asked all the kids to get down. She divided the kids into groups of three and said, “We are going to do a little treasure hunt to the farm”. Here is a map of the farm. You have 45 mins to get to the Barn, the big red building in the middle of the farm. Here is a walkie talkie and every group gets one. Please talk to me on the walkie talkie if you need any directions but I will be following you right behind and we will have our friends from farm here to help you out.
Jim was grouped with his friends Rickie and Julie. They all started looking at the map and following directions to the barn. It was a very hot day and Jim was very thirsty. He saw that there were no trees that they can walk under. After some time, Rickie said “It’s so hot. I feel like I may pass out”. Jim and Julie said let’s drink more water and they made up a song, “Water, Water H20, Dehydration No, No, No” and they all took a big sip of water. Finally, they made it to the red barn but he noticed that all his other friends were very tired too. He went to Mrs. Smith and asked her, “Why is it so hot here? There is not even a place to rest or a fan or anything”. Mrs. Smith said, “Jim, have you noticed, there are not much trees here which is why it is very hot. If we had more trees then there would be shade to walk under, cold air if there is a breeze.” Jim thought, “I wish we had more trees.”
Jim and his friends cooled down at the barn and did a lot of fun activities. They even got to pet the farm animals. When it was time to leave, he had an idea. He went to Mrs.Smith and said, “Mrs.Smith, can we come back to the farm and bring some plants with us next time. May be planting them now will make better farm trips for all the kids visiting the farm.” Mrs.Smith said, “Wow, That’s a great idea. Let me check with the owner of the farm.”
When Mrs.Smith mentioned this to the owner of the farm Mr. David, he was very happy. He came to Jim and said “We would love that and promise to take care of the plants you put here”. Jim and his friends got on the school bus to head back. They were all very tired by the time they reached home. Jim told his parents what happened at the farm today. Jim’s dad said, “May be, we can plant more trees in our community too. There is never a problem with having more trees. You know having more trees make the word healthy.” Jim remembered something he learned in his science class that plants give oxygen and reduce pollution. It didn’t make sense to him if it was so helpful to have trees, why aren’t people planting them all over. He asked his parents the same question. His mom said, “Jim, It’s not just about planting trees but you also have to take care of them. Water them regularly and care for them by adding some nutrients in the soil. But all this is good work and we all should take time in our busy times to do this as this will reduce pollution and make the world healthy.” Jim knew what he wanted to do. He said, “MAX, LET’S PLANT TREES THIS WEEKEND AND TAKE CARE OF THEM”. Max said, “Trees are Big. I can’t lift”. Mom and Dad laughed and said, “Daddy will help, don’t worry Max”. Max said, “yay, I plant big trees”. Everyone laughed.
As promised, Jim and his friends visited the farm again and planted some trees. Mr. David was so happy and he gave them some popsicles as they were working so hard. Jim also made a group with his friends and they all plant trees every few months and take turns to check on them. All the parents helped too. Max was not happy when dad told him to plant the seeds instead of the big trees until he got a cupcake and then he was ok.
Once there were three parakeets, AKA budgies, named Plum, Snow and Flake. One day in Chirpycity they were playing on some nearby grass in their backyard when they heard lots of yelling. “Do you hear all that yelling?” asked Plum. “Yes but I figured it was normal because the football game is going on,” said Snow. “But this is way louder!” said Plum. “Let’s investigate!”said Flake. They soared across the land until they found where the sound was coming from; a green-cheeked conure was yelling at a plastic wrapper. “Why are you yelling at a plastic wrapper?” yelled Flake, trying to sound louder than the bird. “I’m yelling because I’m trying to make this wrapper get out of my swimming pool!!’’ said the bird. “You know that piece of plastic cannot hear you right?’’ said Snow. “At first I tried to get it out with my beak, but the wind blew it to the center of the pool and it’s too chilly to go in the pool to get it out. So I though that the vibrations might move it to the edge, but I was wrong.” Suddenly the bell In front of the mayor’s house rang, which meant that all citizens must report to the mayor’s house, and the first bird to arrive gets a free candy. All four birds flew to the mayors house. “Hello citizens, I have a request for you. One side of my house is covered in litter and I need a few of you to stop the litter situation in Chirpycity. I will give every bird who volunteers ten thousand dollars a month.”said the mayor (who was a very wealthy cockatoo). Almost everybird raised their wing. “I chose the light blue parakeet named Snow, the dark blue parakeet named Plum, the white parakeet named Flake, and the green-cheek conure named……. Ummmm…” “My name is Pouli!” said the bird that the three parakeets saw and heard earlier. “Ah…Pouli,” said the mayor. After the meeting, Plum,Snow,Flake and Pouli stayed behind to hear what the mayor was going to tell them to do. “First can you please take the litter off of the side of my house?” asked the mayor. “Sure.” said Pouli. They went outside to the littered side of the mayors house, and since his house was a mansion there was lots of litter. They started taking the litter off the house and after a few minutes Plum had an idea. “Hey everyone, I know it’s cold outside, so why don’t we keep the plastic bottles to make jackets once we finish cleaning. “Great idea, Plum!” they all said. After they finished taking the litter off the house they went back inside to ask the mayor what to do with the litter that was not plastic bottles. “I’m afraid you are going to have to reuse the litter to make things that are usable, because the humans are not letting us send our trash to them, even if it’s tiny for them.,” said the mayor. I used to pay them one million dollars a year but they canceled the deal!” “Well Mr. Mayor, we gotta go because we want to make jackets out of the plastic bottles.” said Snow. “What a great idea! I wish you luck for reusing the litter!’’ Said the mayor. For the next three days the four birds made jackets out of plastic bottles. Suddenly they saw about three thousand pieces of litter being carried by the wind. While grabbing the jackets and flying inside the house, Pouli was almost hit by the litter. The whole city was now covered in litter. “Oh geez.”said Flake. Afterward, the mayor asked them to pick up all the litter in the city, and they did. Afterward they searched on Youtube for ideas to reuse plastic. A while later they all zoned out, but while Pouli zoned out he had an idea. “Everybird, I have an idea. Maybe we could make compost out of all the litter that’s organic!” One hour later they asked the mayor to ring the bell to gather the citizens in front of the mayor’s house. “Everyone, the birds I chose to stop the litter situation have an important announcement to make.” said the mayor. “I know everybird here has seen the litter wave, and to help stop it I would like you all to start a compost pile in your backyard” said Snow. All the citizens agreed to start composts in their backyard. Then Flake had an idea. “With all the plastic trash that we have, why don’t we melt the plastic, make some gigantic spoon molds, pour the melted plastic into them, and after they cool down we could sell the plastic spoons to the humans.” The next few days they made gigantic spoons and sold them to the humans. “Nice, we already made sixty seven dollars,” said Pouli. Later the mayor invited them to his house. “You four have done a great job. Maybe you could go to the other cities like Softcity, land of the horses, and work for them to pick up litter. By the way here is your ten thousand dollar payment,” said the mayor. The next day they planned to go to the land of the horses, Softcity. “Off to make the world healthy!!” said Plum.
The city is disgusting. For as long as I’ve been alive here, the sky has always been an endless sheet of smoke-gray matter during the season, even when it rains or snows. I still can’t recall the last time that happened--the sky was still smoke gray. Occasionally, the clouds would part and reveal patches of blue but only for a few minutes. Every few months a family would usually lose a loved one to either pneumonia or some other lung-wasting disease. If this wasn’t the air that killed them, then it’s probably the ocean. A few years ago, the local government had put up 10 feet high triangular walls along the coast to hold back the ocean waves. The sea levels only rose by a few feet over the years but that was enough to submerge all the beaches and threaten damage to nearby buildings. Miles of beautiful coastlines were replaced with concrete walls as high and gray as the sky above. At least walking home from work wasn’t that bad, the new power plant was only a few blocks away from my apartment, past all the graffiti on the ocean wall: “life is hell.” I walked up the spiral staircase to my apartment. The door swung open to my empty residence. The furniture around here is absurdly expensive nowadays, and even if I had enough from my job to get some, how was anyone supposed to carry a 150-pound couch from the store to my place? Cars were what rich people rode in, and besides, who needs a couch or a bed when the rugged floor of the apartment is already so soft? It’s a bit uncomfortable to sleep on, but for now, the gray walls will remain barren.
“The plants are dying man, the plants are dying!” I begged the reservoir worker. “I'm sorry Trang, but there’s not enough water to go around”. Other Farmers need this water for their plants too, and I can’t just give it all to you.” City people have it easy, they have a fog blanket shielding them from the intense sunlight above. When I was still a child, the heat was never enough to evaporate large amounts of water from the reservoirs. There’s now half as much as there was 5 years ago, which was half of what was there 10 years before that. The intense radiating sunlight dries up the crops incredibly quickly, and the lack of water makes it impossible for me, or any farmer of that matter, to rehydrate them. Sometimes I don’t have enough edible food to feed my own family let alone sell my crops. I walk outside of my house. For half a century I've been alive and for half a century I have seen fewer and fewer yields every single year. For half a century, no one did anything to stop the production of greenhouse gases. I reached down and grabbed a handful of the dried dead corn, a family of flies swarmed out of the dead crop in the presence of my hand, at least someone’s full. I went back inside. Dark gray clouds approached in the distance.
An evacuation decree was ordered for anyone living on the west side of the city. The walls there showed signs of breakage and the local government ordered all residents out of the area to be safe. All this happened after the hurricane. The downpour was so great that if you looked outside the window you could see nothing past a few feet but falling water. So many car accidents occurred that day some entire roads were shut down during the storm. If it wasn’t for the city’s widespread drainage system the clouds above would have done the favor for the ocean and drowned us all. But the rainstorm did severely erode some parts of the thick concrete walls that held back the vast ocean. The storm is well past us now but the damage was done. Most easterners sought refuge in the country, but some stayed in the city, and now there are twice as many people living on the streets here as there used to be. One good thing that at least happened was that the hurricane did so much damage to the new power plant that the construction company I work for has given a raise to everyone.to better and quickly repair the damage. With that newfound money, I am now the newfound owner of a fridge, now I don’t need to order cheap take-out all the time.
At first, everyone thought it was the lifting of a curse. The vast amounts of rain fell to the ground and watering the crop fields that were as dry as a desert. Many homeowners around these parts were forced to take in refugees moving in from the city because of a problem with the ocean dam or something. Either way, now we all had to share our homes, our houses, and the little food we had with strangers we were forced to take in. When the gray clouds finally rolled over our thirsty crops and gave us the water that we had been missing for months, the people of this small community rejoiced. We had parties and gatherings under those treacherous clouds and thought that the worst was over for now. If only we knew that we would all wake up the next day to find our crops flooded and the rain still at a downpour. Any surviving plants we had left were drowned out in the rain.
The local government imposed new rules on emissions after the collapse of the wall and the flooding of the eastern half. The country, in cooperation with the global community, has agreed to take action to reduce emissions and face the problems that are at hand. In the meantime, our big operation on the power plant project was postponed in wake of the new laws, and there were also plans on shutting down the factory arrays nearby. All this provided many new demolition jobs for construction companies. I applied for one for them since they paid more. My job was to help destroy an old factory that has been efficiently pumping out toxic gasses. In other words, this time instead of building things like what I’ve been doing my whole life, I'm now destroying them. The money I made in those few weeks was more than I’d made in a year. Two years after the passing of the new law, starting from spring morning to evening, the sky that was once covered with smog finally opened up and stayed clear blue for an entire day.
The reservoir has returned. The occasional hurricane can drown your crops, but they can also fill up the empty reservoirs in just a few days. The weather has been getting better these few days, although the occasional hurricane is still guaranteed at least once a year. The heat is still mainly the same even when the government promised that it would cool down after a while. Maybe one day, a future generation wouldn’t have to deal with these problems.
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