A personal memoir by Sophia
I took a deep breath as I stepped onto the spacious stage. The bright spotlights made the Grand Piano seem like it was made of black diamonds. Glancing to the right I saw my piano teacher mouthing:“Bow!” I felt my spine bending over as I bowed to the audience. Slowly, I strode over to the piano stool,the long dress that I had been forced to wear by my costume designer, dragging behind me. As I sat down, a very strong scent of lilies filled my nose. I wanted to look up to look for the source of the scent,but no, I couldn’t. My eyes couldn’t stand those bright stage lights. Instead, I put my notes onto the noteholder and sat down. Quietly, I counted to myself: “One, Two, and Three!” Automatically my right hand struck the first note and mist started spreading over the floor. My right foot found its way to the pedal through the mist. I felt like I was floating on a large white cloud. My long fingers gently pushed the snow white keys downwards. The sweet melody of the waltz echoed in the concert hall. Onto the stage twirled my ballerina friends in their sparkly orange, red, and yellow tutus. Off they twirled again at the end of the tune. Slowly, I removed my hands from the piano and stood up. My flowery dress glittered in the blueish footlights as I bowed and ran off the stage, while the audience was applauding.
A personal memoir by Tom
My mum, dad, and I went to Yorkshire to spread my gran’s ashes, but I didn’t know at the time until my parents told me. They didn’t tell me until we were in the car. I knew we were staying there for two days, and that’s all. My mum asked me, “Do you know what we are staying in Yorkshire for,”
"No," I answered back in a curious voice.
“We are staying there to spread your gran’s ashes,” my dad answered.
When we were in Yorkshire, my mum called my granddad to say we are in Yorkshire, but he didn’t answer. We called him three times but still he didn’t answer. When we arrived in Bradford, we gave him another ring, and this time he answered. My dad mentioned that we will also be having a picnic. My granddad had a perfect idea where to have it.
My dad brought some cookies, chocolate bars, and non-alcoholic wine. My granddad brought some sausage rolls, minced meat pies, crisps, and made some ginger bread brownies and some buns. We went somewhere in the mountains. When we found an ideal place to have our picnic, we begun.
First we had some sausage rolls. My dad offered us some non-alcoholic wine. About 30 minutes later we had finished are picnic. The last thing we had to do was spread the ashes. I stayed in the car while my mum, dad, and granddad spread her ashes. I was happy but also sad at the same time. My gran would be gone forever, but still watching us at the same time.
Text by Isaac
Last week the 10 Year old students did a project from a non-fiction book of their choice and then made it into a board game (well most did, some did posters or brochures) so let’s just say a project of their choice.
Amina B, a ten year old student said “I wanted to do a poster but I forgot it in Croatia so I did a board game” It was not very stressful for Amina but “I didn’t have enough time.” She was not very positive about what she said about her game she said “(I) kind of (did a good job)”
Thomas B, another student of Mr. Macmillan said “I did a (type of) in a pickle game with marine life. He did not find it stressful but “… It was boring going back and forth (with his notes and writing it down.) ...”he thought that it he did a good job but “… It could be neater…”
Anton B, another grade five student did a board game as well. He was not so fond of making a board game because “I don’t like doing things by hand”. He found it a non-stressful because “… drawing is easy”
The last person was Liam C. he was very positive about his work and how he did on his board game.
Over all it took around two hours to four days. To make the project took about two hours to a week to make the board games. Most of all everyone thought that people would play their game. Especially Anton with a positive “I don’t know.”
This was no science report or anything like that. It was unique! I mean how often do you make a board game for non-fiction reading text!?
Text by Aziza
This Friday in the 10 year old class we’ll be doing something new, a Mystery Skype call. This is going to be our first mystery Skype so we don’t really have any experience but we did two practices so I’m sure we’ll be fine. A mystery Skype is, well, a Skype call with another class somewhere around theworld. Of course, teachers know where the classes are, if they didn’t how could they even organize amystery Skype? Unfortunately, teachers can’t tell us where the classes are.
So, in the second sentence I mentioned practicing for the Mystery Skype. The way we did this was that Mr. Macmillan had thought of a city and we had to ask only yes or no questions to figure out what city he had thought of. We learned that that first question we should ask should be abouthemispheres. (E.g. “Are you in the northern Hemisphere?”) We sat at computers with a world atlas, a tab on Google Maps, and a tab on this back-channel chat called Today’s Meet. Today’s Meet was used because the “Researchers” (people who researched) couldn’t talk as they tried to figure out which country it was. Some people (Questioners) asked Mr. Macmillan questions that the Researchers typed on Today’s Meet. It was lots of fun but it was equally as nerve-racking. Hopefully, the practice will help us on Friday!
A personal memoir by Isaac
It all must have started when I was four. Just like any ordinary four year old, I would not
always listen. It was time for mouth watering, excellent, food. But I did not like to stop playing
and start to eat.
So one day when dinner came around I was running around the street and my sister's loud
yet gentle voice called me in for dinner. I did not listen and kept on galloping along, like a
cheetah in the vast grasslands of Africa. My sister got red and screamed “Isaac, come inside this
instant!” I ignored her. That was the worst mistake in my life. Just then my foot hit a large rock
in the road. As gravity pulled me down towards the hard, black, dirty black road I had my mouth
wide open as I yelped. My tooth then hit the ground first and split in half. Like a lumberjack
cutting down a tree for his living.
That next morning I was dragged to The Hall of Screams better known as…..
The dentist. The horror! With tooth fillings, and, my worst nightmare. The Pillow. It was
an instrument that dentist would play in the opera... What... not that kind of instrument! It
was a thing that picked your check so hard you would become numb. It felt worse than if
a pirate had came and shot you with his gun. It was there where I got my “Monster
Tooth” (it was just a fake tooth! What? I was young and spry.
A Few years later a new tooth had started growing and forced all of my upper
teeth back. As if my teeth were frightened about the new tooth growing in. I went back to
the Hall of Screams and had it removed so that all of the other teeth would stop growing
to the back of my mouth. It was also because I would sometimes force my upper teeth
back. And still the upper teeth kept on moving back. Like they were walking all the way
to the back of my mouth. As if they were afraid of something (and I hope the something
was not me!) But something stopped it. It was my hero.
Waiting….. I was there I was playing a video game with another boy that was my
age. I didn’t even know his name. I glared at the clock. It felt like the everlasting clock
was going backwards. What is going to happen?I thought, and how?Then a smiling
dentist said “Come on in! I am ready for you!” I walked. My heart raced like it was in a
marathon. It pumped and pumped and I could hear the faint throb with my blood
circulating. I walked in the blunt room and sat down on the operating chair, hearing a
little kid screech in the background. “I just need you to open wide!” she then shoved what
looked like pink play-dough, pressing it on the top of my mouth. It felt like an hour
before she took it out. But in reality it was not long at all. She put the disgusting tasted
thing. I glared at the thing. It was like a fossil that belonged in the Museum of Dinosaurs
and Other Fossils. The dentist then handed me a blue laminated sheet with a lot of
designs on it. “Pick what you want to be on your retainer!” I looked through the options,
and saw solid black and a bright smiley face and a soccer ball design. They all shouted
“Pick me, Pick me! No pick me!” but only one caught my eye. It was a rainbow like
design with yellow and blue and green. Without hesitation I gestured to the rainbow
One week later I come back to the same dentist and get it. With the great design
and its silver laces the retainer seemed to glitter. I put it on for the first time and the next
thing I know I am in a cabin of an air plane from Hon Kong to Dhaka Bangladesh and it
torches down. The pilot greets us on the intercom to Dhaka “And we hope that you will
fly with us again on Dragon Air.”But the next thing I know I have no need for the thing
and it was lost. Never to be seen by me. Ever again. My Hero.
A personal memoir by Liam
In the story the Tygrine Cat by Inbali Iserles, cats who live with humans are said to 'own' the human. The author describes the 'owning' as “the strange but ancient custom of cohabitation between feline and human, whereby a feline lived alongside an educated human, a “hind,” and came to “own” them, in a manner of speaking. The “owner” would offer comfort and protection to the human, who in return would provide regular food and stable lodgings.”
When I was born, my mom's cat, Negra, had already been a part of the family. She had lived with my family for 10 years. She was as black as the dark night, no moon or stars to light it up, with short little legs, that is how she got her name, Negra. My parents would tell me stories of how she would just sit over my crib after I was born and watch me, making sure that I was safe. You could say that Negra 'owned' me, and maybe our family too.
My mom told me about a time during the Bosnian war, when Negra sat in front of the door, meowing, growling, and scratching on the wall, trying to get their attention. When they looked to see what was wrong, they noticed that there was a gas leak from the pipe at the entrance to the room. My mom still believes that Negra had saved their lives back then. If she had not sensed the gas, it could have killed them.
As I was growing up, Negra was always around and always wanted to be where I was. Since she was older, she didn't like to play a lot, she acted more like a mother, a protector. She would follow me around and sit in which ever room I was in. She loved it when I would sit with her and pet her. When I was still little, she would groom me by licking my head, I can still feel her rough, scratchy tongue. She never tried to scratch me or hurt me in any way.
When I was about six and a half, Negra got sick. I remember the many trips that my parents took to the veterinarian to see what was wrong. I also remember how she would just lay around, she didn't even have the strength to move. It wasn't much later that she died. I still think about Negra sometimes and remember how good of an “owner” she was.
A personal memoir by Amina
Bang!!! The door closed shut, as my mom walked in. I was in my room playing my favorite cowboy game, on my sparkly red, Gameboy. Almost there, almost there… And suddenly a black screen, my Gameboy was dead. I crawled out of my warm comfy bed. And was back in my usual nosy rosy mood. As I stepped out of my bedroom, the silence magically appeared. I saw my mom lying
down on the couch, not saying a thing. No “hello , how was your day?” No “what did you learn today?” But most importantly no word came out mama’s mouth Then I turned to my right and saw the TV on. The fox life still playing, same as how I had left it right when I came from school.I turned my head in a precise half circle and saw my huge purple backpack dumped on the floor next to the
kitchen door, with my science and math textbook sticking out.. Then a few thoughts crossed my mind. (1) Her job. Mama works as hard as an ant, 12 hours a day, with no rest. (2) That wasn’t it. This was something else. Something more important. Something I couldn’t think of.
I took a small step toward the couch. Then… 1,2,3,4,5,6one after each other. Finally there was one step left. I unsurely lifted my foot of the floor, my eyes inspected the room from floor to celling for right to left. There were two more inches left until my step was complete, but suddenly I herd a voice, echoing inside my head, avoiding my choices.
Unexpectedly a tear rolled down mama’s cheek, and slid down her neck. Oh no! Suddenly 1,2,3,4,5,6,7 all in one go. I straightened my hands keeping them parallel and lifted up mama’s feet of the couch making some room for me.
“ Grandfather had an car accident.” Mama’s voice replied shakily. I rubbed the tear out of my face and without tiring mama any more with my stupid questions lied down next to mama and closed my eyes and fell into a deep sleep. At that moment I hoped I could change something. The past.
Tic Toc! The phone rang. My mom quickly answered and surprised me with good news, and I fell on my back and went to sleep.
A personal memoir by Aziza
Strolling in the cool, icy, air-conditioned air felt like heaven after plodding around outside in the normal Dubai winter warmth. My family and I were on Christmas vacation in Dubai, hoping to escape Sarajevo’s frigid, frosty holiday season. We were just about to enter Dubai Mall, the most colossal, mammoth mall in the world. For the outside I thought it looked awesome, but that was nothing compared to the interior. Finding the perfect words to describe this magnificent, marvelous mall was no easy task. It was breathtakingly luxurious, shiny and futuristic, posh and alluring. The floors and walls sparkled like diamonds. Hallways seemed to go on forever in a labyrinth of stores.
Looking around I could see expensive brands that would my grandma cry of joy: Louis Vuitton, Gucci, Dolce & Gabbana, and Coach. Wow. The particular entrance we came through led us through a wonderland of the middle east’s specialties: dates. Stores full of chocolate covered free samples lured my parents in like sirens singing to hypnotized sailors. They tasted as sweet as sugar-cubes being dipped in honey. I gripped the smooth, metallic railing as my parents looked for some attractions on the touch-screen guide. They found an aquarium. Yes, there was a whole darn aquarium here! A tunnel of smooth-skinned, blood-curdling, vicious great-white sharks that could make a grown man cry. Elegantly dancing, transparent jellyfish, and who could forget our feathery, fluffy, penguins!
Leaving the aquarium, I realize that I was starving. Luckily, so was my family. As we set out to explore and find a restaurant we found astonishing things: roller coaster with queues of people waiting, ice skating rinks with energetic music blasting from stereos, and a movie theater that probably out sized Sarajevo Airport. We gazed outside the abundance of windows peering at the Burj Khalifa Tower, the tallest tower in the world, it shined like a beacon that could be seen from miles beyond.
Stumbling around a bit more we came across an embellished restaurant to dine at, MORE’s. Its interior design was simply perfect. Dark-wood flooring, walls painted in purples and decorated with sharp pieces of mirror. The cuisine, however, was scrumptious. They could make simple hamburgers into masterpieces. I got a glimpse of a hamburger from the children's menu, it had such exquisite details I was amazed. There was a smiley-face burned into the top bun with sesame seeds as hair with a cherry-tomato nose.
As I exited Dubai Mall I was gloomy. I realized how much my feet ached from walking. Nonetheless, it was a stupendous, exceptional day. A perfect memory.
An amazing group of young learners, the 11YO class of QSI International School of Ljubljana.
Books We've Read