CHP Chronicle 2026 Volume 3

Chronicle CEDAR HILL PREP

2026 | Volume 3 | Issue 3

MAGAZINE

Neurodoodle

By Nehemiah Kim, 7th Grade

A Collection of Student Work

from the Chronicle LEetter ditor-In-Chief CEDAR HILL PREP

MAGAZINE

2026 | Volume 3 | Issue 3

Cedar Hill Preparatory School 152 Cedar Grove Lane Somerset, NJ 08873 732-356-5400 cedarhillprep.com

Chief Education Officer / Founder Nandini Menon, Ed.D.

School Principal Donald Seeley

Magazine Staff Editor-In-Chief Srinidhi Rajagopal

Art Director / Designer Ellen F. Kane

Creative Content Advisors

Yasmeen Villafranca and Lisa Simon

Contributors

Aaliyah Patel, 8th Grade Aanya Vig, 8th Grade Aaryan Shah, 6th Grade Aiden Betancourt, 8th Grade Aiden Nguyen, 7th Grade Anandita Gurjar, 6th Grade Anvay Bobade, 3rd Grade Esha Kumar, 6th Grade Ian Lee, 5th Grade Indigo James, 6th Grade Isha Gupta, 7th Grade Isra Arif, 6th Grade Johnathan Li, 6th Grade Kaelan Patel, 6th Grade Kaya Abdullah, Kindergarten Kenneth Richard, 5th Grade Laila Parekh-Patel, 6th Grade Leo Romaine, 6th Grade Liam Patel, 1st Grade Lily Trotta, 8th Grade Mason Parker, 8th Grade Meera Chandwani, 5th Grade Mythili Polamraju, 5th Grade Nehemiah Kim, 7th Grade Nyle Thaver, 5th Grade Pragnya Banigallapati, 8th Grade Reyaan Aman, 8th Grade Riyan Jayasuriya, 2nd Grade Sahasra Genupur, 8th Grade Samaira Doshi, 8th Grade Santosh Bazawada, 6th Grade Shivad Desai, 7th Grade Vallabh Vijayaraj, 6th Grade Yajur Subramaniam, 7th Grade Zinnia Shirley, 7th Grade

Dear CHP Community, As you turn the pages of this year’s Cedar Hill Prep Chronicle Magazine, we invite you to pause and reflect—not only on what our students have accomplished, but on who they are becoming.

This year has been a celebration of growth, curiosity, creativity, and courage. Throughout these pages, our students have found their voices in countless ways—exploring their identities and personal experiences, imagining new possibilities, expressing ideas with purpose, and discovering the power of sharing their stories. Their work reminds us that learning is not simply about what students know, but about how they think, how they see the world, and how confidently they find their place within it.

From our youngest learners discovering the world through creativity and artistic expression to our middle school students engaging with ideas that challenge them to think deeply and reflect honestly, every page of this issue reflects a community of thinkers, creators, and storytellers.

At Cedar Hill Preparatory School, we believe every child has unique potential—and that potential has a purpose. This year, that purpose came to life in classrooms rooted in the IB Learner Profile, where curiosity, reflection, open-mindedness, and a willingness to take thoughtful risks guide the way students learn and grow.

All writing is a journey that begins as a rough, unpolished stone, uncertain of its own shape. Through patience, revision, and the courage to keep refining, that stone is slowly transformed—facet by facet— into something that catches the light. Each experience helps students become more thoughtful, capable, and compassionate individuals who are prepared to make a meaningful impact on the world around them.

We are equally grateful for the families, alumni, teachers, and community partners who continue to make this journey possible.

Whether you cheered from the audience, volunteered your time, supported a student’s learning, or simply believed in the mission of Cedar Hill Prep, you are an essential part of this story.

As you explore this magazine, we hope you feel the joy, purpose, and pride woven into every page. This is more than a collection of student work. It is a reflection of a community committed to nurturing curiosity, celebrating individuality, encouraging creativity, and empowering every student to discover not only what they can achieve, but who they can become. Thank you for being part of our story.

With gratitude and excitement for what lies ahead,

Srinidhi Rajagopal, Editor-In-Chief

Where I’m From - Poems

3 4 4 5 6 6 7 7 8 9 10 10 11 11

Outstanding Poetry

Day Performance The Sum of It All By Sahasra Genupur, 8th Grade Pieces of Where I’m From By Pragnya Banigallapati, 8th Grade Outstanding Poetry The Echoes of the Journey By Zinnia Shirley, 7th Grade Day Performance Monday Night Football By Kenneth Richard, 5th Grade The Present Is My Future’s Past By Isha Gupta, 7th Grade Two Worlds, One Home By Aiden Nguyen, 7th Grade Where I’m From By Mason Parker, 8th Grade Outstanding Poetry This Is What Family Means To Me By Indigo James, 6th Grade Day Performance The Life of Me By Kaelan Patel, 6th Grade My Life Explained By Anandita Gurjar, 6th Grade Me, Myself, and I By Leo Romaine, 6th Grade Outstanding Poetry My Personalities By Nyle Thaver, 5th Grade Day Performance The Atoms of My Identity By Nehemiah Kim, 7th Grade What I Like By Meera Chandwani, 5th Grade

Creative Horizon - Artwork 13 14 15 16 17 18 19

Georgia O’Keeffe Flower By Kaya Abdullah, Kindergarten Watercolor Jungle Cat By Liam Patel, 1st Grade Mary Blair Shape Castle By Riyan Jayasuriya, 2nd Grade Vincent Van Gogh Sunflowers By Anvay Bobade, 3rd Grade One Point Perspective Bedroom By Isra Arif, 6th Grade Neurodoodle COVER IMAGE By Nehemiah Kim, 7th Grade Basquiat Self-Portrait By Aaliyah Patel, 8th Grade

Ink and Imagination

Historical Fiction - Wednesday Wars 21 Holling’s Crazy Life By Esha Kumar, 6th Grade The Hoodhood Times By Santosh Bazawada, Johnathan Li, Aaryan Shah, and Vallabh Vijayaraj, 6th Grade 22 Defying Dad For the First Time?

Shakespeare’s Effect On Holling?

23 Holling & Danny’s Bar Mitzvah Lieutenant Baker’s Return Once Upon a Time…

Outstanding 24 Fairy Tale By Mythili Polamraju, 5th Grade Writer 26 The Bird with No Wings By Ian Lee, 5th Grade Story’s Ending Outstanding Writer 27 Jonas’ Final Journey By Isra Arif, 6th Grade 27 The Choice – An Ending to The Giver By Laila Parekh-Patel, 6th Grade 28 All Summer In A Day By Shivad Desai, 7th Grade Point of View Outstanding 29 Dear Diary By Yajur Subramaniam, 7th Grade Writer Tiny Memoirs - New York Times 30 One Last Moment By Lily Trotta, 8th Grade 31 Bird Watching By Aiden Betancourt, 8th Grade 31 Gravity and Guts By Reyaan Aman, 8th Grade Open Letters 31 Always Behind By Aanya Vig, 8th Grade Outstanding 32 Dear Urban Air Corporation By Samaira Doshi, 8th Grade Writer 33 Dear Future Pet Owners: Younger Isn’t Always Better By Lily Trotta, 8th Grade

Back Cover Artwork

Street Art Mural “We Are Today’s Tomorrow” By Isha Gupta, 7th Grade

TABLE OF CONTENTS

In This Issue

Cedar Hill Prep Chronicle | 1

Where I’m From Poems by Middle School Students

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heartfelt collection showcases the poetic talents of our young writers. This anthology captures the vibrant emotions, keen observations, and imaginative flights of our middle school students. Each poem is a testament to their unique perspectives and creative expression, offering a glimpse into the hearts and minds of our poets.

Dive into this treasure trove of verses and let yourself be carried away by the profound simplicity and boundless creativity of our budding poets. Enjoy the journey through their words and celebrate the power of youthful imagination.

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Poetry, Where I’m From

he poems in this anthology were inspired by George Ella Lyon’s poem, Where I’m From. Students reflected on their own lives through memories and personal experiences. Their poems offer a personal glimpse into the moments and relationships that have shaped who they are.

The Sum of It All

By Sahasra Genupur, 8th Grade

I remember Trips to India The days are hot, with the sun shining upon me And monsoon rains gently drumming on top of the roof The fragrant smell of mangoes & roses pervades the air Our cozy, Indian suburban home Made up of auburn bricks With the prickly pink roses in the garden Its pink hues bring color to my life The lofty maple trees Provide shade on the hot and sunny days

Outstanding Poetry Day Performance

The days I spent with my books Entertained by knowledge and stories Or from the mornings spent hearing the family tales passed down generations I reflect on The joys and sorrows of life The misadventures and journeys, From India to Jersey Thankful for the thinkers and dreamers And their hard work and dedication

My faith intertwined in my life Surrounds me with the calming sense of religion Saturday temple visits, cool marble on my feet The serenity captivates me My loving parents Electrify our home with laughter Filling every corner with pure, vibrant joy But even amidst this warmth, we face disputes and conflicts With shared perseverance, we navigate and resolve them Always grounded in mutual kindness A quiet gesture whispers our steady care A hand placed gently on a shoulder, passing by The earnest declaration of “I love you!”

And the well-intentioned command, “Behave!”

All forging an enduring, unbreakable unity Built on memories and personal experiences Photo albums hold precious memories on my shelf Dusty pictures and faded writing Of cherished moments

Cedar Hill Prep Chronicle | 3

From this blend comes traditions from both worlds Celebrations of Diwali – Lights that twinkle like little stars Their flames dancing as they flicker Golden, crispy samosas and steaming biriyani passed across the table Smelling the aroma of cardamom and cinnamon Staying up every New Year’s Eve – Laughter of the family stories Prayers for a new year filled with health and prosperity

Pieces of Where I’m From

By Pragnya Banigallapati, 8th Grade I’ve always been an avid reader Stories whisk me off to faraway places Pages like a portal opening into new worlds My journey began with Biscuit the Dog and Mittens the Kitten Simple stories that helped my mind thrive Then it continued to afternoons spent with library books Bookmarks tucked between the chapters Hours stolen away I curl up with those books in my quiet, sunlit house Where ivy climbs its brick walls The fragrance of rosewater drifts from the garden Through my open window, I’d look up from the pages Feeling the cool breeze that gingerly caresses my face And gaze at the shimmering stars scattered across the night sky Those same stars watch over me in the later hours Staying up at night to study Driven not by my peers, but by my boundless resilience Guided by my parents, Giridhar and Madhavi Their words echo, “Don’t avert from your focus,” and “Hard work is greater than talent.”

I am derived from them, shaped by the values they instilled Inheriting their dark chocolate brown hair, which is so prevalent in my family Blending together the United States and India 4 | 2026 | Volume 3 | Issue 3

Those memories linger beyond that day Moments preserved in the photo album Tucked in the living room cabinet Are the faces that resemble my own From the great-grandmother who taught me how to braid The grandmother, who tells the same story but never the same way And my father that immigrated to America To give my family and me a better life Each memory is a puzzle piece When connected, they form a picture of who I am

The Echoes of the Journey

By Zinnia Shirley, 7th Grade

Outstanding Poetry Day Performance

Home is where the heart is, some people say For my grandparents, it was Jamaica, not that far away he was a Nurse, he was an accountant Success, joy, everything they wanted But not enough “Your degree is irrelevant in America, you have to start new on a clean slate” “The next generation is what makes us,” they would say with their heads reaching the clouds Their sacrifice, I today couldn’t bring myself to make America, the “promised land;” it advertised for itself For America, what was scarce was abundant in the flick of a switch But the thing it had most was hope. Of course, it came with interest he came first, then she followed Their son left behind in Jamaica, only one year old

They were industrious, working around the clock patients in and out and the bustling factory as busy as New York They pushed and pushed till their bones fell weak They are the reason that I can speak of this world that I love and they will be deep in my heart forever Gleaming with hope and opportunity America is the place I now call home

Instead, they walk with their heads down I don’t know what happened, but we have hope, right?

Well, we had hope

The struggle they had to endure continued unabated Balanced family and work, just trying to live life without waiting Through hardship and triumph, they supported one another and lifted each other up With hope that one day everything would change That hope is what drove them to keep going They did it for me, for my parents, for my siblings, and for the future generations Grandma trekked here with thousands of others She came with the hope that they had each other Pop pops came with the trust in her He came with the drive to keep going 50 years pass and life has changed, They returned to Jamaica with their kids now grown Leaders came, no names to be told, no eyes to see that this was our home They look at the news, the words cut deep like a knife Thousands of men force others like them out, throw them in prisons, and strip them of their families I just don’t know what they would say, but we have hope, don’t we?

This journey was pain with a lot of gain, but with an expiration date, not forever Time to pay up, the hat finally came to you, How could anyone believe it was forever, too good to be true In the world we live in, nothing’s for free, not even joy the one thing we should all receive I thought the promise land would lend us a hand, but they were the masters behind the plan The pain with some gain was all an illusion to just go back to our prior home, Jamaica Their hope passed down to my parents, then to my siblings and to me They are coming home today, to the promised land They look back and no one asked to lend a hand No one asked what they felt on the inside

Monday Night Football

By Kenneth Richard, 5th Grade I am from football!

When I get home It’s Monday night football The homework assignment must wait Chicken, pizza bites, lots of beverages What an aroma!

Joe Junior – my chair Comfy and cozy The Giants must win!

Flags fly on the field Jaxon Dart gets a call to give his all It’s enough Bang, boom, pow!

The other team goes into the trash Game almost over Bedtime…boo hoo!

Can’t stay up too late I can’t wait to grow up Cedar Hill Prep Chronicle | 5

The Present Is My Future's Past

My future can only happen When my past is complete But the present is my future's past My future is now My future is what WILL make me

The start of my story And to the stories I've read The lives I've lived But have stayed in my head As a figment of my imagination The ones written down on paper And some that are on my list for later

Two Worlds, One Home

By Isha Gupta, 7th Grade

Good stories start with once upon a time But here's the thing─so does mine It all starts on a small street With a brown house surrounded by big oak trees The places where authentic laughs echo with glee I hear the leaves crunch and crunch under my fast feet Me and my friends We're pirates at sea Risk-takers out to get the devious Captain Crunch Using leaves in make believe Playing tag, and so we flee Oh, the mythical creatures that we've seen Then suddenly BOOM, thunder roars Raindrops fall Creating a steady rhythm that fills my ears Run inside Turn off the lights Open the blinds Let the calming, warm lamp Be the only light there is The movement of my hands Is the eager turning of the page Like a lion ready to devour its food Diwali time comes Lights fill the house like the sun fills the day My favorite pink dress with half sleeves and puffy pants And small chains at the bottom The purple glasses I wear To my short black, wavy hair To my brown skin And the small dot on my chin Everyday I may grow, But this is me 6 | 2026 | Volume 3 | Issue 3

By Aiden Nguyen, 7th Grade Onions sizzling, rice steaming, The fall festival, Lễ Hội Mùa Thu, Is full of culture, Traditional Folk dances, singing to music, all joyfulness.

Lighting fireworks to seeing big sponsors on stage, And firecrackers loud as crowds Dressing red and yellow, Ready to celebrate the annual dragon dance, My mind glued to these images.

Holding back is impossible.

From immigrants to citizens, I am blessed by 2 countries, Vietnam and the USA. A family of five, brother, sister, Mom, and Dad, Impartial and caring is all we need, Showing love to all, Like hearts giving out friendly letters, My aunts and uncles, grandpas and grandmas, Are like roots from a tree, holding me steady When I’m turbulent by rough losses.

Soccer, a sport that makes me industrious Putting on my cleats, Ready to play wing, Running up and down, Attacking, shooting, and scoring.

Sweat runs down my face, When the whistle blows, My teammates smile, When it all ends, It’s time to unwind.

At the place, I call home.

Where I’m From

By Mason Parker, 8th Grade

College basketball and NBA dreams Dedication shaping the paradigm of my future Just like school, basketball teaches principles, focus and hard work The court is my classroom My coach is the teacher I’m the student Practicing late nights with my dad Always learning and listening This electrifying sport From ankle breakers, dunks, and passes Shooting 3s, it’s the best of all Passion brings us together like no other It’s the road to college And a way of life Basketball like a holiday Brings us together with joy And the special moments shared Evoke stories of togetherness My family is tall like towers Myles, Lielle, and I Kindness always being passed around like a basketball A resilient bond that never gives up Special moments shared We’re together for it all The rise and the fall Cheering for my sister’s tennis matches And my brother’s basketball games Consoling the stinging defeats and Celebrating game-winning shots

This Is What Family Means To Me

Outstanding Poetry Day Performance

By Indigo James, 6th Grade

I am from the dandelions The faux flowers staring up at Orion I am from dancing grass Making memories that are sure to last I am from the Suburbs I am from raking leaves Climbing trees Stacking weeds Running from bees Do you know what all this means to me?

I am from “Beauty comes from the inside out” The “What are you complaining about?” And “You will do great, no doubt” Words that bring you up when you are down An antidote for your frown Now it’s time to dig deep!

I am from Den Burg key The growing farm industry I am from harsh illnesses Persevering through bad luck in health I am from the boom! ,s and the PowPs The zips and the zooms!

Clearing a way for triumph in the fog of gloom Moving one step at a time like thread on a loom And this is only one part of the story Another digs deeper on the other side of the family Starting on the plantations with Frederick Douglass His five sisters and he Hoping to escape the reality of brutality Marching to abolish slavery Who could imagine?

That the one thing that could detain one who conquers with much bravery That’s meant to degrade one’s family Brought our family hope and willingness to move on happily Bring it up to Gen X? I’m from my parents and they’re the best!

Continued on next page Cedar Hill Prep Chronicle | 7

My father? Passionate My mother sweet as pie “Their hope and potential is higher than the sky!”

“My father’s from Trinidad.”

Making me Trini Oh cool! That rhymes with my nickname “Indi”!

I’m from Ay Mann! The ting ting and ting!

I love my dad’s side, I wouldn’t change a thing!

My mom may be filled with colors and light But don’t be mistaken, she knows how to fight...

He sometimes asks “What is this worth?”

Some ignorant people have interfered in his path And all he feels is like he’s a water bottle and they’re just the cap From ignorance to arrogance Some just don’t stick And since my father and arrogance do not mix All of those people are out real quick I’m from learning to coexist

Growing up mixed, it isn’t easy!

And my mom had no room to even try to be needy I am from making a fight look easy

He stays on course, is true to himself Yet, of course we all need some help!

He’ll extend out to me, ask my opinions Cause in this house, it’s all YOUR dominion I’m from helping the brainwashed minions

From “Oreo” to “Zebra” “Layers” to “Choose a side” My mom persevered, nothing to hide!

My mother had her brother, but they differed in experience You see my uncle was white, he was used to coexistence

Well thank you for taking this journey with me I have to say it fills me with glee!

Cause not every family is religious or prodigious, with perfect connectedness and jobs in domestics And some may be skeptical but this is just ethical

No disrespect, my uncle was tough Don’t get caught, or you’ve got it rough

“Living in a theoretical, alphabetical, dialectical...”

Thinking parasol is not going to change the light Of a restless and helpless child of missiness Striving for forgiveness and encouragement From those who crumble and diminish its “Only hope of dream.”

To someday see The light of what it’s like to grow up like you and me!

Yet he would never get how it was being mixed Not his fault your color can’t be picked All due respect to him and his resolution of conflict Life back then, parents were too busy with jobs My grandpa was out, my grandma worked hard An A.M. nurse up in East Orange She was never about making you porridge Let’s just say they didn’t mess around, they always outlooked every crowd Now back at home, things have surely changed My grandma doesn’t work My mom’s well past engaged And Grandpa, well he was less fortunate Rest in peace, we hope you enjoy it

So I encourage you to share, the poem you’ve prepared And show that kid that the fog in their life, isn’t really there

The Life of Me

By Kaelan Patel, 6th Grade

My father trains basketball With kids everyday He feels they don’t always stick to what he has to say He works for himself, is his own boss Just wait ‘til he teaches you a killer front cross

In the garden, my so tender hands between earth and air I press the earth to make each seed’s birth The roots are showing me that everything must be treated with care, The garden is like a ceremony of time and growth.

The soil tells secrets only patience can understand.

Each drop of water is a promise every plant will keep.

Although he’s a monster, a beast on the court At home he unwinds, releases the dirt

I’m from soccer The screams of hollering so loud you can’t utter a word

8 | 2026 | Volume 3 | Issue 3

Playing games for hours on aching and cramped legs, Mud on the lawn and cleats I am from triumphs after falling to the ground, A hero celebrated in sweat, not gold, but still renowned The dull monotonous Saturday To the wonderful Sunday My life’s like a campaign choosing honesty and truth From sunrise to sundown all my thoughts are ablaze.

I’m from the “you’re okay walk it off,” Where hurt is met with a cold sneer I was taught pride goes nowhere fast.

Only soft hearts truly last.

Not the one which degrades others’ passions or dreams.

To give more than I take each day, To lift others up, not bring them down For strength is not loud or arrogant, It’s the quiet resolve to stay and get up

My Life Explained

By Anandita Gurjar, 6th Grade I’m from the track, The sun glaring at my eyes Putting my feet on the line Picking up my knees, Everyone looking at me, I’m feeling conspicuous Even if they’re not.

The stadium spotlights shining bright, I don’t think I’m doing this right From the wind going through my hair, Like my hairbrush Finally done!

I feel the triumph Getting my time, It felt like an eternity, I am from Bharatanatyam, a dance that I do From scraping my ankles, all the cakey, itchy makeup, The chandra and suriya The jewelry of the Gods to the uncomfortable costumes and all the others Going on stage, The spotlight glaring at you Starting the dance Forgetting everything around you,

I am from Bharatanatyam.

I am from school All of the homework, All the clubs Debate, Future City, To World Challenges and back From the loud bell ringing, Telling us all to go to class Our hallway conversations are over And doing it all over again I am from being alone, Listening to music, Reading books Eating food, Crunch, Crunch” From Researching cars Yep, that’s Me! To looking up to the sky Or going on a jog I am from sleeping away I am from being alone I am from playing violin To clasping my wrist onto the neck And feeling the vibration of the bow and violin touching I am from playing sheet after sheet after sheet And all the scales there ever were To “Put your fingers more up! I hear so many times...”

I think I’m violating a law!

I am from playing the songs one after each From Row Row Row your boat To We wish you a Merry Christmas I am from playing violin Continued on next page Cedar Hill Prep Chronicle | 9

I am from being annoyed with myself, From groaning and pacing To crying and thinking Why am I like this?

The tears from eyes dripping as if they’re rain On and On, thoughts running through my mind, all of them... just integrating I can’t rewind Finally I remember, Dude, it’s fine Life’s just life I’m all of this One way or another I’ll cross these paths For now I’m just me Me just me, this is my life explained

From homemade guacamole From vacating to places like Turks & Caicos, Jamaica, and Mexico Most important from being me for the rest of my life.

I am from Me, Myself, and I

My Personalities

By Nyle Thaver, 5th Grade

Outstanding Poetry Day Performance

By Leo Romaine, 6th Grade

I am from the piano When I am playing, no one can touch me Never distracted Calm melodies keep me safe Challenging, I get the hang of it The asset sounds lure me to sleep The “Carol of the Bells” singing in my mind Playing at school for family and friends

I’m from slingshots and catapults From water balloon fights From a soccer ball and a basketball Shooting for the goals as far as a mile I triumph when trying Me, Myself, and I

I am from my friends Playing with them….so compatible!

Cheering for success Helping when they’re down Being kind all the time Just saying ‘hello’

I am from Legos and Rubik’s cubes From being a sleeping and eating machine Having a good time and enjoying peace From One Piece and Jujutsu Kaisen Watching until my eyes disappear Me, Myself, and I

I am from being open-minded Jumping off a high dive Learning new concepts, Organizing my locker I Love EF!!

Facing and conquering challenges

I’m from cooking lunch for my family Giving them a good time and enjoying the food From movies like Star Wars when I’m bored and tired Watching over and over and not pausing Me, Myself, and I

I am from a happy life…always smiling like a star.

Me, Myself, and I

From playing drums on the soft stage While sitting on a pedestal Doing origami in my free time Having fun playdates with my friends Every pasta, from al dente to ziti Reading manga and realistic fiction Me, Myself, and I From arguing with my sister Staying up until 9 pm doing homework 10 | 2026 | Volume 3 | Issue 3

The Atoms of My Identity

By Nehemiah Kim, 7th Grade

My bedroom littered with shelves Filled to the brim with old, dusty books The place I could crash into To sleep and restore energy Where figments of my imagination are born Where even the silence felt loud My faith is made up of Friday and Saturday Bible studies Presentations about astute books that I couldn’t comprehend And the beat up bibles Which still hold up some how The Sunday services that kept me half asleep But also on the edge of my seat the entire time Devouring the information like a delicacy Where belief and confusion somehow coexist And the vast internet Full of information and interesting ideas Tools and people online Like tutors for your every problem The things that allow me to connect with others My authentic community of friends and family Full of character My parents, who have supported me for as long as I remember My sisters, who are my mentors in life Armaan, who can’t stop talking about football Yajur, who somehow is good at everything Aiden, who is inhumanely athletic The people who encourage me To be enthusiastic, to pursue, and to work hard My identity like an ecosystem Full of diverse things, people, and places Yet without one of these things Would be incomplete

What I Like

By Meera Chandwani, 5th Grade I am from graphic novels The simple ones, Not bland But not too much, Purchase at different places Not a high price Just the right amount!

I crave them You might too Time goes by, With graphic novels I am from my dog, Fluffy and furry Cuter than anything you could imagine Consumes her food , Faster than flash!

An aroma, Like weird beef Gross!

My dog, Pepper

Cedar Hill Prep Chronicle | 11

Creative Horizon Celebrating Student Creativity at Cedar Hill Prep

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nder the guidance of our dedicated Art Teacher, Allison Dempsey, students at Cedar Hill Prep explored diverse artistic expressions, from vibrant paintings to imaginative sculptures. Ms. Dempsey’s approach fosters an environment where creativity thrives, encouraging students to express themselves through various media. Her commitment to nurturing artistic talent has culminated in a stunning display of student artwork, reflecting the unique perspectives and skills of each young artist.

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Georgia O’Keeffe Flower

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By Kaya Abdullah, Kindergarten

indergarten students created beautiful representations of close up flowers, inspired by the work of Georgia O’Keeffe. Kaya used what she learned this year about the color wheel and color mixing to paint her flower with analogous colors, and then figured out a complimentary color to color the background.

The final result of her hard work is a beautiful painting that shows Kaya’s understanding of all the art techniques she learned this year.

Cedar Hill Prep Chronicle | 13

Watercolor Jungle Cat

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By Liam Patel, 1st Grade

st Grade students learned about the artist Henri Rousseau and his beautiful paintings of tropical forest life. Liam did a wonderful job learning to draw different wildcats, and his drawing of a tiger was finished off with a dark oil pastel outline and colored in with watercolor paint.

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He finished his project off with paper collage leaves that complemented his tiger painting beautifully. With this jungle cat painting, Liam was able to show off his skills in all of the different art mediums they learned this year.

Mary Blair Shape Castle

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By Riyan Jayasuriya, 2nd Grade

nd Grade students had the opportunity this year to learn about different jobs that use art skills, like story board artists and architects. Riyan learned about Mary Blair, who was a concept artist for Walt Disney Animation Studios, and the creative mind behind the “It’s A Small World” ride in Disney World. He took inspiration from Mary Blair’s unique style of using bold shapes to make her artwork, to design a

beautiful castle using only simple shapes and patterns.

Riyan also reinforced his color wheel knowledge by only using primary colors for the linework, and only secondary colors for the watercolor painting. The result is a truly amazing work of art that shows how hard Riyan worked this year in art class.

Cedar Hill Prep Chronicle | 15

Vincent Van Gogh Sunflowers

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By Anvay Bobade, 3rd Grade

rd Grade students learned about Vincent Van Gogh and his favorite subject to paint, sunflowers. They took time in class to study the way sunflowers looked and felt, and then compared some of Van Gogh’s different sunflower paintings before the students were able to start creating their own version of this iconic artist’s work.

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Anvay took this challenge in stride, creating a vibrant and unique work of art that showed his understanding of the source material, while also making it unique to himself and his personality.

One Point Perspective Bedroom

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By Isra Arif, 6th Grade

th Grade students learned about one point perspective this year, and how to apply that knowledge to creating a drawing of a 3 dimensional space. They were tasked with drawing the interior of a room, and adding at least five pieces of furniture that followed the rules of one point perspective.

Isra created a beautifully illustrative picture of a bedroom. She diligently followed the rules of one point perspective, while also maintaining a fun and whimsical quality to her linework. The final result is a wonderful demonstration of her art skills as well as her creative voice and artistic style.

Cedar Hill Prep Chronicle | 17

Neurodoodle

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By Nehemiah Kim, 7th Grade

iddle School Students started off the year with a project meant to refresh their knowledge of the basics of art: Line, shape, color, pattern, and form.

Neurodoodles are an art therapy technique we have adapted to the art classroom, intended to relieve stress and help your brain process emotions.

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As Nemo has demonstrated with this work, this can also be an exercise in intentional abstract art making. He filled in the shapes he made with patterns he carefully created, and colored each area with analogous colors to create a sense of harmony in his work.

Basquiat Self-Portrait

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By Aaliyah Patel, 8th Grade

th Grade students took inspiration from the work of Jean-Michel Basquiat to create a self-portrait that emulated his very unique art style. This project was a challenge that Aaliyah was ready for.

She was successfully able to take inspiration from Basquiat’s style and his unique markmaking to use in her own work, while also maintaining a style that was her own. She was able to let her personality shine through in her work, creating a stunning final result.

Cedar Hill Prep Chronicle | 19

Ink & Imagination F

rom heartfelt reflections on life and friendship to non-fictional writings, there is something here for every reader to enjoy.

We invite you to lose yourself in these stories, to journey with our characters, and to see the world through the eyes of our talented authors.

20 | 2026 | Volume 3 | Issue 3

HISTORICAL FICTION The Wednesday Wars

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By Gary D. Schmidt

his historical-fiction novel explores a year in the life of 7th grader Holling Hoodhood. Told in first person, Holling discusses his interesting and sometimes difficult relationships with his friends, father, and a particular teacher named Mrs. Baker. The story takes place on Long Island during the tempestuous year of 1968, when the Vietnam War was raging, and both Martin Luther King, Jr., and Robert F. Kennedy

Holling’s Crazy Life

By Esha Kumar, 6th Grade

I

n The Wednesday Wars shoes, rats, cream puffs, and baseball are all important to Holling Hoodhood.

These things represent Holling’s very crazy and kind of cool life as a 7th grader.

The rats matter to Holling because they represent all of the fear that he has. When Holling went to track tryouts, he got chased by rats all around the track field because he accidently kicked the rat cage and unleashed them all.

He was so scared of them, that he ran as fast as he could around the field. The rats represent the fear in his life.

were assassinated. Along the way, Holling is also exposed to Shakespeare, whose writings, once understood, became a huge factor in his life.

To completely comprehend the complexities of this novel, the 6th grade class worked in groups to either write newspaper articles, produce a podcast, or create art that symbolized lessons learned. Please enjoy two of their insightful contributions!

that she cares about him and wants him to do good. The cream puffs represent kindness and encouragement.

Baseball is another big part of Holling’s life. His father cares a lot about his business and he cares about famous baseball players. Holling looks up to some baseball heroes.

Baseball represents dreams and role models.

All of these important items and hobbies connect to Holling’s journey in life. The rats show his fears. The shoes show his strength and success. The cream puffs show kindness and encouragement. Baseball shows dreams and looking up to major people (AKA: role models). These things help tell the story of Holling Hoodhood and how he changed from someone who was shy, to a very brave and outgoing person.

The shoes are important to the book because they represent hard work and confidence for him. Holling gets himself a special pair of running shoes for the track team.

When he ran from the rats, he ran so fast that the coach noticed him and because of that, he made the varsity track team: The shoes show that Holling is starting to believe in himself when he does things.

Cream puffs are also important in the story because Mrs. Baker gives Holling cream puffs as a reward when he does good at reading Shakespeare. At the beginning, Holling thinks: Mrs. Baker does not like him at all (Not even a little bit). However, Mrs. Baker got him cream puffs to show Cedar Hill Prep Chronicle | 21

THE HOODHOOD TIMES HOLLING’S 7 TH GRADE ADVENTURE

Santosh Bazawada, Johnathan Li, Aaryan Shah, and Vallabh Vijayaraj, 6th Grade

Defying Dad For the First Time?

H

olling has always listened to his dad. Mr. Hoodhood runs the local architectural firm, Hoodhood and Associates. Throughout Holling’s life, Mr. Hoodhood had commanded respect in their house, the “Perfect House.” Everyone in Holling’s family listened and obeyed Mr. Hoodhood. This time it was different. In May, Holling’s sister, Heather, ran away from home to find herself but realized it was the wrong decision. She desperately wants to come back but Mr. Hoodhood doesn’t let her so, Holling saves up his money and goes to pick up Heather from the bus stop despite his father’s refusal. “If she went out in a yellow bug, she can come back in a yellow bug.” said Mr. Hoodhood.

Even though his father refused to pick Heather up, Holling was determined to pick her up. That was the first, but not the last time, Holling refused his dad. Next, in June, Holling countered Mr. Hoodhood’s idea of Danny’s Bar Mitzvah.

Mr. Hoodhood thought, “You become a man by getting a job as an architect.” but Holling thought, “It has to do with choosing for yourself.” Holling deliberately went against Mr. Hoodhood. Holling changed significantly since the beginning of the book. Holling changed from a scared, obedient boy to a confident, unwavering boy.

“ “

You think that's how you become a man, by chanting a few prayers?” ─Mr. Hoodhood You think you become a man by getting a job as an architect?” ─Holling Hoodhood

22 | 2026 | Volume 3 | Issue 3

Shakespeare's Effect On Holling?

Romeo & Juliet and Holling & Meryl Lee?

“

Last year, Mrs. Baker gave Holling a bunch of Shakespeare, like The Tempest and Macbeth.”

At first, it wasn’t really good. Holling thought that Mrs. Baker was torturing him instead of giving him free time. Now, it all changed. Holling now knows that Shakespeare is not a block from free time, but literature with valuable lessons that defines how the world is like.

From September to now, they’ve read The Tempest and Macbeth, The Merchant of Venice, and now Romeo and Juliet.

It’s a Shakespeare classic that’s all about love and fate, and it totally changed Holling’s life. It actually brought him closer to Meryl Lee Kowalski, his junior high crush. He actually read it before Valentine’s Day, which Romeo and Juliet matches the theme of. He learned that loyalty and trust matters and it is not simple, it is very complex with twists and turns in every way. It also teaches him of the fragile beauty of human nature through forgiving Meryl Lee for an unintended betrayal.

These Shakespeare lessons are useful for Holling in situations with his dad, with Mrs. Baker, and the environment around him, showing how human nature exists and why it exists the way it does.

“

With love’s light wings did I o’erperch these walls; For stony limits cannot hold love out” ─Shakespeare (Romeo & Juliet)

Holling & Danny’s Bar Mitzvah

D

Lieutenant Baker’s Return

anny’s bar mitzvah is coming up and Danny is very nervous about it. He needs to practice his speech at the upcoming bar mitzvah. Holling and his friends decide to help him practice one month before the bar mitzvah.

They encouraged him by saying you can do this when he was always about to give up. They learned that friends always help each other one way or another and they learned about Jewish tradition. The upcoming month in June the bar mitzvah happened.

Danny learned his speech and spoke it perfectly. In the end all of them learned about friendship and that never giving up will always come out in a good way. Friends are a crucial part of someone’s life; they are basically everywhere you go. They make you happy a lot and are very precious to you. In this case Danny’s friends are Holling and his friend group makes him happy and they help whenever he needs them.

T

he American Troops fighting in the Vietnam War were losing. There were many soldiers trapped in Kesahanh. And Lieutenant Baker was among them.

The Vietcong were getting closer, about 50m away from them.

They were lobbing about 500 mortar shells into the hill. But the enemy offensive was slowly running out of steam. But a few months later, Walter Cronkite had reported that the enemy troops were abandoning Kesahanh, and they were 20m away from the troops. 11 days after the year at Camillo Junior High ended, our lead Long Island Branch reporter, Aaryan Shah, went to the airport and saw the entire 7th grade class led

by Mrs. Baker, the wife of L. Baker. L. Baker was coming back from Kesahanh.

They were all holding boxes of sweet strawberries, and waiting on the tarmac. After Mrs. Baker reunited with her husband, Mrs. Baker said “I would have never been able to be the person who I am right now without the amazing support of my class.” This was truly a heartwarming moment for Camillo Junior High and Long Island.

“

Today, I become a man.” ─Danny

“

I prayed for Lieutenant Baker, missing in action somewhere in the jungles of Vietnam near Kesahanh.” ─Holling Hoodhood Cedar Cedar Hill Hill Prep Prep Chronicle Chronicle || 23 23

ONCE UPON A TIME…

F

airy tales are cherished stories of long-ago featuring princesses, princes, magic, good, evil, and life lessons. While studying genres, the 5th graders learned the elements of these timeless narratives and wrote their own enchanting tales.

Fairy Tale

By Mythili Polamraju, 5th Grade Outstanding

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Writer

nce upon a time, there was a quaint village that was full of greenery everywhere, torches were lit outside the gates, for it was nighttime. Where there should’ve been silence a surprising sound of a young woman cried “help I’m about to give birth to my child!” With the startling noise, the villagers rushed with their torches. In the forest, they found a young, frail, girl who looked like she had been running for hours and looked afraid. She cried out again “please help me!” The women were able to deliver the newborn, which was a beautiful, healthy baby girl. The mother of the child however had died.

The villagers decided to adopt her and named her Elvly. Many years later Elvly befriended a boy named Miles who loved poetry. Every day after school, both of them would go down to a creek and stay together until sunset. One day, Elvly went to the forests to feed the birds. Then, something came through the shadows and started speaking in the most mysterious voice saying “I’m an enchantress, your mother made a deal with me but she failed to own up to her part and ran as fast as she could carrying you.” Elvly was on the ground and saw the Enchantress who looked very intimidating and wore a dark flowing purple dress with wild purple flames around her dress and had long, magenta hair that was flowing everywhere. At first, Elvly didn’t know what to say but 24 | 2026 | Volume 3 | Issue 3

started talking “am I supposed to finish the deal on behalf of my mother?” The Enchantress said, “quite right, if you finish this deal, you’ll receive anything you’d ever want.” Elvly thought for a moment and said “no.” The Enchantress was angry and the purple flames started growing taller and wilder, the Enchantress said “you’d rather live in this disgusting village than have everything you want? You will regret this.” In a poof of light, she vanished.

Elvly hadn’t heard from the Enchantress in quite some time, and her days had finally returned to normal. One day she had her usual day at school and after school she went to the creek but didn’t see Miles. She stayed there for some time and he didn’t come. Elvly then went to the woods and he wasn’t there, she was overwhelmed and broke down in tears.

She wiped her eyes and the Enchantress was in front of her, the Enchantress had a coy smile and said “well, it looks like my words do come true. If you ever want to see that Miles you will do whatever I say.

Elvly was filled with anger but nodded.

They both then made their way to the dungeon the Enchantress said “well home sweet home. Oh, where are my manners, my name is Ezmia now let me show you to your room.” Once Elvly got in she became very still and saw the unimaginable. Miles was in an enchanted mirror with all her strength Elvly said, “you put Miles in a magic mirror is it true that once you’re in a magic mirror it’s hard for you to get out of.” Ezmia replied “of course, but I know a way to get him out so if I were you I’d listen to me.” Elvly was stunned but kept quiet to make sure nothing happened to Miles.

Once she was in her room, all she could think about was Miles.

The next day Ezmia came in saying, “well I have your three tasks which were the same for your mother, first I want you to learn all the spells from my book, second read enough information about the kingdom of Thronedale since you will be marrying the prince of that kingdom,

lastly you must be trained by a master in a weapon of your choice.” Elvly couldn’t believe her ears “what are you going to do with all this information! Why would I ruin my life just for you!” Elvly then stayed silent and very still when she realized that this could help Miles.

She then said in the quietest voice, “can I leave the kingdom when I’m done?”

Ezmia then said in a stern voice “once these tasks are completed, I have no control over you.”

The same night, she reviewed the book and a wand came out of it. She kept that aside then something piqued her interest, it was a potion very complicated and has the most rare and deadliest ingredients.

Elvly knew the Enchantress was very powerful and by stabbing her with a dagger wouldn’t do anything, she knew this potion was needed. She then lit a lamp and started reading. She wrote the ingredients needed and where they could be found. She was smiling then read the bottom saying, “this takes three years to make.” Her smile faded, but she didn’t lose hope. She went to sleep peacefully.

The next morning, Ezmia was still in her robes but said, “well if you are going to come here, I’ll teach you a few simple spells.” Elvly came with her wand and watched carefully, Ezmia said “the first spell I will teach you would be a simple transfiguration spell”, Ezmia then turned Elvly into a pig in one movement. Ezmia started laughing and laughing and saying many things that would describe the relation between Elvly and a pig. Ezmia taught Elvly many spells and one potion to help seduce the prince of Thronedale into marrying Elvly, each time Elvly made a mistake Ezmia would yell at her and start throwing horrendous insults at Elvly.

In the night, Elvly took her cloak and horse to find one out of the three ingredients. She made sure to stay near the area. The ingredient she was looking

for was toad venom. This ingredient is very deadly and can only be found in the desert since these creatures don’t have enough water to survive, they have a complicated way of adapting to their environment, making this venom on their body. Elvly used a cloth and a knife to kill a frog and used all the parts of the dead frog and mashed them together to make a paste as the book says. She then kept it in a small urn and kept it hidden with a spell from the book. She went to the dungeon and was able to get an hour of sleep.

In the morning she found Ezmia doing spells in the arena outside which were killing every plant nearby, it seemed as if Ezmia was enjoying herself to see the plants die. Ezmia then started training Elvly in the dagger and was showing some progress with this weapon. Elvly didn’t know what to do and formed a plan that next week she will tell Ezmia that she would need to go and collect books about Thronedale where she’ll also make a trip to get another ingredient. She knew this plan would work and decided to put it into action.

Next week arrived and Elvly was ready to ask Ezmia. Ezmia kept her facial expression the same when Elvly was explaining and said “very well, ready your horse. If you don’t come back in a week you will be seeing yourself being dead in my hands.” Elvly gulped and left in an hour to a special place where every book can be found. She went there and since nobody was allowed to go in the library she had to use the secret passage that she found. She went in and stacked many books of Thronedale and one on how to be a princess, she then had to leave since she saw a celestial guard nearby. She rode her horse to a cave. This was very dangerous since it used to hold dragons in the early days and is still very dangerous to this day. But Elvly needed to get dragon scales and was determined

to do this. Elvly went and had to use gloves to pick up a few scales and put them in a bag. She mounted her horse and went back to the place where she kept the toad venom and put the venom and the scales in a pot and made sure that they were mixing by themselves and hid them with the same spell.

Once she was able to relax, she mounted her horse and went back to the dungeons where Ezmia was waiting for her. She looked at Elvly with a smile “I noticed that you think you can take your time learning everything. People are looking for me! I need to finish this. You don’t understand the situation, so you must be punished severely. Go and see the mirror.” Elvly rushed inside and saw that inside the mirror Miles was getting tortured and there was blood gushing everywhere. Ezmia was right behind her, Elvly said with disgust, “ you monster!

Why did you punish him instead of me!”

Ezmia said “motivation” and left Elvly to weep.

The next year she had to work double the amount of work. She had always been doing something during the day.

If she didn’t listen, she would see Miles get tortured in the mirror. She started making great progress on the dagger and her spells. She finally found the last ingredients which were tears from a fairy. Another year passed and her training started growing more advanced including her work and she had to read every day about Thronedale cause in a year Ezmia would force her to marry the prince of the kingdom. This task pierced her heart because she belonged only to Miles but if she succeeds in her plan, she may not have to. Three years were almost up and the potion just needed one more week before it was ready; it seemed as if time could crawl that entire week.

The time was now right. The potion Continued on next page Cedar Hill Prep Chronicle | 25

was ready and during the night Elvly got up with her dagger and laced the knife with the potion. Ezmia is someone who goes late to bed, but gets up early in the morning, Elvly was ready and snuck inside Ezmia’s chambers and while Ezmia’s back was turned Elvly used this opportunity to strike and stabbed the dagger into Ezmia’s chest. The enchantress didn’t have time to react and was trying to recover from that moment of shock. Meanwhile, Elvly didn’t waste another moment she had all her stuff with her and all she needed was the mirror. She pulled the mirror off the wall and mounted her horse and escaped very quickly into the forest. As much as Elvly wanted to congratulate herself, she knew the escape wasn’t over yet.

She got to safety and cried tears of joy saying, “Miles we did it, we escaped but.” her mind started thinking about how she was supposed to get Miles out of the mirror. She saw a fairy nearby and said “wait! Please help me.” Elvly started explaining the story and the fairy knew that these two were meant to be together, the fairy then agreed and used all her magic to get Miles out, Miles was sweating and had scars all over his body but was able to stand up and hugged Elvly. Miles said, “thank you, how can we ever repay you” the fairy said, “there’s nothing for you to repay. You two go home and live a happy life” she then disappeared. Elvly and Miles made their way home together and lived happily ever after.

The Bird with No Wings

By Ian Lee, 5th Grade

O

nce upon a time there was a special bird named Poly, he had magical spells, but he was always sad. Poly was always sad because he did not have wings and since he was a little swan all the other birds made fun of him because he had no wings.

Poly was cursed by an evil devil-looking bird named Tweety. She was an evil witch who wanted everybody to suffer.

The curse she had put on Poly was unbreakable unless he traveled three islands and found three totems on those islands. Poly accepted the quest and went on the journey to travel on those three islands. He did not realize he was tricked and there were no totems.

Poly went to the first one, it had crocodiles and alligators everywhere and a green stinky swamp. There was only one tree that was on the other side of the island. He used his magical spells to get to the other side, he found a totem and he took it and went on his journey to the second island.

The second island had only fog and stormy weather. It was a cold, rainy island with high winds. Poly had no choice but to get through the rain and wind. Once he reached the second tree he found the second totem that he needed.

He found a wise turtle meditating on the side of the tree. He saw him and asked.

"What are you doing?" the wise turtle said, "I am having a moment of silence in the rain, please do not disturb me". Poly now went to the third island.

The third island had sandy beaches and dust storms. Poly had to fight through the dust storms. He had to wear a special

26 | 2026 | Volume 3 | Issue 3

mask to prevent sand or dust from coming into his mouth or eyes. The totem was on the other side of the island and in the middle of the island, there were gate monsters who would not let anyone pass. Poly had used his magical spells once again to secretly get past the gate and get the totem. On the side of the tree, he saw the wise turtle once again and he this time told Poly "My name is Bob and I am the guardian of these three islands".

While Bob and Poly were having a conversation, Tweety took the three totems, but all along the three totems were fake and hollow. Poly had looked back and he saw that the totems were gone and someone took them. Then he saw the Tweety evil bird flying away and as she was flying she said, "you will never get your wings back." Poly had started crying, but Wise turtle Bob told him that the totems were fake. He told Poly, "Everybody is unique in some way.

That's what makes us special" When Poly returned home, he still saw people laughing at him. Instead of crying, he ignored them and thought of what master Bob said. On that day, Poly had learned an important lesson that made him feel special instead of feeling like he was a weirdo. Then, he wanted to find a meditation island. He found one far away from anyone who would be mean to him. On that peaceful island, he lived happily ever after.

STORY’S ENDING

An Ending to The Giver

T

he Giver, by Lois Lowry, is a story of a dystopian society where the lives of its inhabitants are choreographed from birth to death. There is no freedom of speech or individual decision-making allowed. Expression of emotions is also strictly forbidden. However, the memories of the past are kept in one man called the Giver. Jonas has been selected to become the new Giver. As he receives memories, he becomes appalled at what his society has become and flees the community. What happened to Jonas? The author does not provide closure for the reader. Enjoy these possible “endings” to The Giver.

The Choice

Jonas' Final Journey

By Isra Arif, 6th Grade

By Laila Parekh-Patel, 6th Grade

J

Outstanding Writer

J

onas and Gabriel traveled through the freezing snow for many days.

Jonas was tired, hungry, and cold.

He kept going because he wanted to protect Gabriel. As they moved farther away from the community, the truth about life began to unveil itself to Jonas. He realized that the people in the community had never lived with real feelings or freedom. They followed strict rules every day and never got to choose their own paths. Even though the journey was difficult, Jonas felt a sense of triumph.

Jonas hoped his new life would extend far beyond the fear and control of the community. The farther Jonas walked, the weaker he became. The cold wind hurt his skin. Then, in the distance, Jonas saw a warm house glowing with lights. It was very bright in the snowy darkness and was full of splendor.

Jonas thought he could hear music and laughter coming from inside the house.

He wanted to attain warmth. However, because he was starving and freezing, this hope started to elude him. He could no longer tell if the house was truly real or if

it was only a hallucination. However, the peaceful sight made Jonas feel calm and tranquil for the first time in a long while.

Jonas held Gabriel tightly and slowly moved closer to the house. As he listened to the music, he felt himself beginning to evolve into someone stronger. The fear and pain inside him slowly faded away, and warmth began to emerge in his heart. Jonas finally understood the importance of love, memories, and freedom. Whether the house was real or only a dream, Jonas had found the peace and happiness he had been searching for his entire life. He closed his eyes, hoping for it all to come. It went blank. Release had finally come.

onas and Gabriel are at the bottom of the snowy hill. The weather is cold, and snow is falling. Jonas is feeling exhausted and cold with a sense of shock, agony, conflict, and danger.

Jonas is running away from his town because of the way it is controlled, and he is in trouble now. He hears music and echoes that remind him of the memories of holidays and the times he has spent with Gabriel. These memories guide him forward and give him affection and hope.

Jonas discovers a new community with Gabriel.

“Look at this place,” Jonas said.

“I know,” said Gabriel.

“Look at this place. It looks way different from ours,” said Jonas.

“Yeah, in ours everything is controlled, and we don’t have a say,” said Gabriel.

In the community, they hear lots of music, see lots of lights, and notice that the weather is humid. They also see people doing different things than usual. They talk to the people they see and ask them questions like, “Do you like living here?” and “What do you like most about being here?” Jonas Continued on next page Cedar Hill Prep Chronicle | 27

and Gabriel get answers they were not expecting, like “I love living here” and “This place is incredible.” This made their decision much harder. Gabriel noticed the conspicuous lights and the enormous buildings, while Jonas listened to the eloquent people speak about their community. People seemed to exhibit happiness everywhere.

Jonas’ biggest challenge was deciding whether to stay in the old town or in the newly discovered one. He realized if he stayed, he might not be able to see or do different things. If he went to the new town, he would be able to see and do different things. In other words, he would have freedom. Jonas realized this choice could change his future and make his life completely different. Jonas feels so many emotions. He felt worried and stressed if he did not make the right decision. The memories about how he was controlled and stopped taking the pills so he could feel these memories made the decision easier to make. The strongest emotions are the ones that helped him to decide were both fear and joy.

Gabriel had an abundant number of reasons why he and Jonas should explore the new world, but Jonas had second thoughts. Jonas knew this was a lofty decision that could affect his future forever. The choice seemed enormous.

Jonas tried not to let agony or doubt control him. He hoped his memories would guide him toward the right one.

28 | 2026 | Volume 3 | Issue 3

STORY’S ENDING An Ending to All Summer in a Day

A

fter reading Ray Bradbury’s science fiction story All Summer in a Day, our seventh-grade students explored its open ending by writing their own conclusions. Their challenge was to create a resolution that remained true to the story’s characters, themes, and emotional impact.

All Summer In A Day

By Shivad Desai, 7th Grade

T

he closet door opened, and before the children could apologize, Margot pushed them out of her way and darted towards the door to check if the sun was still illuminating the sky. But it was too late — the once bright sky, now darker than ever, let out a roar of thunder that sent quivers down Margot’s back.

Aghast, Margot stuttered, “I- It’s gone.”

As Margot made her way back to the classroom, she gave William an incredulous look. As she melted into her chair, the dismissal bell rang. Margot sat there in a stupor.

“Margot!” the teacher called.

She could hear the teacher’s voice, but to Margot it was just background noise. She didn’t blink. Instead, she observed the raindrops sliding down the window, as if they were her tears.

“Yes?” she whispered in a monotone voice, her eyes still zoned out.

“It’s time to go home, sweetheart,” the teacher said calmly.

Margot gathered her belongings and walked to her mom’s car into the gloomy afternoon. As she opened her mom’s trunk, the rain intensified.

“You were right,” her mom asserted.

“About what?” Margot replied.

“The sun,” her mom said simply. “I feel

like a new person now.”

“I wish I was you,” Margot answered ruefully. “William bullied me — AGAIN!” Margot said contemptuously.

“This time, he locked me up in the closet. I-I couldn’t see it. By the time I ran outside, it was dark again.”

As Margot burst into tears, silence filled the car. Margot’s mom pressed onto the accelerator to get back home fast. As they arrived home, Margot’s dad opened the door, trying to give Margot a hug.

As he leaned in, Margot ignored him, still traumatized about the incident. She ran upstairs to her room to seek solitude and escape the dark, depressing reality of Venus, and dream all day long about the magical sun. As she violently flung her backpack on the desk, she lay down in bed trying to soothe herself. Her mom entered the room.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” Margot’s mom asked.

“No,” she said.

“I told Pa to get the blue pill,” her mom said.

“That won’t work! I need the sun!”

Margot yelled crankily.

Pa arrived from the pharmacy with the medicine.

“She said no,” Margot’s mother murmured to Margot’s father.

“It will help with the shaking, Margot,” her father explained. “It’s just for tonight.”

Margot looked at the blue pill with disgust. It sat in her father’s palm like a small stone. She wouldn’t take it.

“It’s not the right color,” she whispered.

A

“It’s medicine, honey.”

“It’s blue,” she said, trembling.

“Everything here is blue, gray, and wet. I need the yellow. Pa, I need the heat!” she exclaimed.

“Margot, please,” her mother said.

“That’s all we have.”

“Then we have nothing,” Margot said.

She lay back down and turned her face to the wall.

“I’m already gone. Can’t you see?”

Her father stood there for a moment.

He looked at the blue tablet, then at his daughter. He realized she was right.

The pill was just there; it didn’t help.

He crushed the tablet. He turned and walked past his wife.

“Pack your bags,” he said to Margot’s mom.

“But what about the contract,” she whispered. “We have a year left. We’ll lose everything.”

“If we stay any longer, we’ll lose Margot,” he said. “I don’t care about the money. We are going to Earth. Tonight.”

The next thing Margot knew, the beat of the rain was replaced by the roar of rocket engines. When the rocket finally reached Earth, the air that was once cold was now warm. She unbuckled her seat and took her first steps. In her palm, she held the useless blue pill. She let it slip through her fingers into the tall grass, forgotten. She spread her arms like an eagle in flight, feeling the rays of the sun striking her face, filling her veins with a strength that the rain could never break again.

POINT OF VIEW

s part of an independent reading project, students read a book of their own choice and wrote journal entries from the perspective of a character or historical figure. For this piece, Yajur selected Strena seu de Nive Sexangula (On the Six-Cornered Snowflake), a scientific treatise

by Johannes Kepler. Through creative first-person writing, Yajur brings Kepler’s voice to life while demonstrating a thoughtful understanding of this challenging work.

Dear Diary

by Yajur Subramaniam, 7th Grade

Outstanding Writer

Diary Entry 1: December 25th, 1610 Dear Diary, n the evening of December 24th, 1610, I was completely distraught. I was brooding atop the Charles Bridge in the beautiful city of Prague. My great friend Count Matthaeus Wacker von Wackenfels has been so kind to me, but I was not able to repay him with a New Year’s Gift. Just as I was thinking these unbearable thoughts, a snowflake landed on my palm. I then realized something.

My great friend, Wacker von Wackenfels, should love nothing more than nothing.

This nothing should not be substantial, for my friend’s name Wacker translates to “pebble” in German. Since a pebble’s value is almost nothing, I therefore proclaim him the lover of Nothing. A short treatise on snowflakes is a perfect gift for him.

Why, snow, in Latin is nix, which sounds similar to the German nichts, meaning nothing. This is the perfect gift for him. If I know him well, I’m sure he will love it.

O

Sincerely, Johannes Kepler, Scientist at the court of Emperor Rudolf II of Habsburg Diary Entry 2: December 27th, 1610 Dear Diary, ature has a most unique way of thinking. Wherever possible, it looks for maximum efficiency to minimize space. Bees are economical like this too when they make honeycombs inside a beehive. They try to use as little wax as possible. I have found that equilateral triangles are a space efficient shape. Since hexagons are made up of many equilateral triangles, they are also space efficient. This is why bees build honeycombs hexagonally. Similarly, if spheres of water were packed together, to minimize space, they would form a hexagon. Still, the problem is not solved. For my part, I do not know how to scientifically prove why this happens. Let us leave this problem up to the geometers and the chemists and future scientists who want a proof to write.

N

Nihil sequitur, Johannes Kepler, Scientist at the court of Rudolf II of Habsburg Continued on next page Cedar Hill Prep Chronicle | 29

Diary Entry 3: Dear Diary, just came back from the court of Emperor Rudolf II. I must say, his castle in Prague is very lavish. I especially love St. Vitus Cathedral for its beautiful architecture, but I am going on too much of a tangent. I met Count Wackenfels, and he was very pleased with my most diminutive essay. He especially loved the pun about his name. He found it very interesting because he was an academic himself. He especially looked deeply into my conjecture about sphere packing and how snowflakes could actually be made of spheres of water that naturally become equilateral triangles, and thus combine to form hexagons. In the future, scientists will call these spheres water molecules. My sincere apologies for not writing a longer letter, diary, but I must go.

I

January 1st, 1611

Sincerely, Johannes Kepler, Scientist at the court of Emperor Rudolf II of Habsburg

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TINY MEMOIRS

nspired by The New York Times’ 100-Word Tiny Memoir Contest, our students captured short, powerful stories about a particular moment in their lives. In this collection, three students look back on defining moments that left a lasting impression — a lesson in patience learned through birdwatching, the thrill of conquering fear on two wheels for the first time, and a heartfelt goodbye to a beloved pet. The most unforgettable moments, it turns out, often hold the biggest meaning. “Lily Trotta and Aiden Betancourt advanced to the second round of the Tiny Memoirs Contest, placing in the top 17% of 14,232 entries submitted to the 2025–2026 New York Times Tiny Memoirs Contest.”

One Last Moment

By Lily Trotta, 8th Grade

“

Shh, Endo, you’re okay.” My small kitty struggles weakly against the vet’s grasp. Then, she sags, motionless, into the woman’s arms.

“Kidney failure, hospitalization, IV patch, dehydration, appetite stimulant,” her words are disjointed, “Or, we can discuss other options.” This comes through clearly and I succumb to sobs, barely able to stand.

“It’s the kindest thing to do,” my mom says softly. The vet leaves, giving us a moment alone. While Endo, with her puffy, white fur, snuggles close to me and my mom, my dad joins us on facetime – we have one last bittersweet moment together as a family.

30 | 2026 | Volume 3 | Issue 3

Bird Watching

Gravity and Guts

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M

By Aiden Betancourt, 8th Grade

By Reyaan Aman, 8th Grade

ast December during recess, my friend taught me how to birdwatch. By the soccer field we would sit on gray bleachers and behind it was a wooded area. I recall spotting the bright blue plumage of the blue jay and the dull tan striped plumage of the white-throated sparrow along with its memorable tweet “oh sweet canada -canada” echoing in the winter. He taught me how to stay patient, long enough to hear the rustle of feathers and the tiny chirps of birds. Birdwatching is not just watching birds, but noticing the small things that you’d ignore otherwise.

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y first time without training wheels. I stood at the top of the hill with my little red bike. Menacing older kids impatiently waiting behind me made me nervous. The kid before me takes off and wipes out into the dirt. It was my turn now. I pushed off hesitantly. Accelerating at the speed of light, not knowing how to stop, I prayed I would slow down as my handlebars wobbled uncontrollably.

I made it to the bottom without falling–I’m ecstatic! The older kids’ jaws dropped and this little five-year-old beamed with pride proving to be better than they were.

OPEN LETTERS

nspired by The New York Times Learning Network’s Open Letters Opinion-Writing Contest, students wrote persuasive letters to individuals or groups about issues that mattered to them. Using evidence, strong reasoning, and their own unique voice, they crafted thoughtful arguments to inform, persuade, and inspire action. This collection features three outstanding student letters. Lily Trotta’s open letter Dear Future Pet Owners: Younger Isn’t Always Better advanced to the second round of the 2025–2026 New York Times Open Letters Contest, placing it among the top 19% of more than 11,000 submissions worldwide.

Always Behind

By Aanya Vig, 8th Grade Dear Coaches and Teachers,

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want to explain something that can be difficult to notice unless you've stood where I stand. At school and in sports, people often assume everyone starts at the same place. But it has never felt that way to me. Most of the time, I feel like I'm already a few steps behind before the race even begins.

When a teacher introduces a new lesson, many of my classmates seem to understand the concept almost immediately. Meanwhile, I'm still trying to process the first step while the class has already moved on. It isn't because I'm not paying attention or because I don't care. My brain simply needs more time to process, connect, and understand new information. According to The New York Times, students learn at different speeds, and some may need 30–50% more time to fully grasp new material. But school doesn't slow down. Lessons continue, assignments pile up, and before long, you're hesitant to raise your hand or ask for something

to be explained again. Eventually, you stop asking altogether, hoping you'll somehow catch up on your own. For me, tennis feels exactly the same.

At tournaments, the pressure from practice carries into every match. The game moves quickly, mistakes matter, and there is little time to reset. There's no coach standing beside you—only you and your thoughts. While other players seem to adjust to their opponents with ease, I'm often still thinking about the last point, trying to figure out what went wrong before the next one has already begun.

Tennis is just as much a mental game as it is a physical one.

From the outside, it might look like I'm not trying hard enough. What people don't see is everything happening inside my head—the constant thinking, analyzing, and secondguessing. Every point requires focus, yet sometimes my mind is still catching up while the match keeps moving forward.

The same thing happens with my schoolwork. I go home and work through math problems again and again, hoping they'll finally make sense. Sometimes they do. Sometimes they don't. Then the test comes back with a disappointing grade, Continued on next page Cedar Hill Prep Chronicle | 31

despite all the extra hours I put in. I replay tennis matches the same way, thinking about every missed shot and every point I was so close to winning. No matter how hard I work, it often feels like I'm still trying to catch up. Over time, constantly catching up becomes normal—not because you want it to, but because it becomes your reality. The hardest part is that people often don't understand. When you're always trying to keep pace, you rarely get the chance to feel ahead. Even casual comments like, "This is easy," or "Everyone understands this," can make someone feel like they're the only person struggling.

I'm not asking to be treated differently. I'm simply asking for understanding.

I refuse to apologize for his presence. When he covers his ears because the music is too loud or flaps his hands to express excitement, he is not trying to disturb anyone. These are simply the ways he experiences the world. So I ask: why should a business choose comfort over compassion for a child who is simply being himself?

What you may see as a late answer or a slower reaction is only the surface. What you don't see is the extra time, the mental effort, the persistence, and the frustration that come with trying your hardest every single day. Sometimes, it feels like running after a train that never stops. So the next time a student struggles to answer a question or an athlete takes a little longer to adjust, please don't assume they aren't trying.

Some people are working twice as hard just to reach the same place others seem to arrive at naturally. A little patience can make all the difference.

Research from the American Academy of Pediatrics also shows that 1 in 10 children with special health care needs experiences disability-based discrimination, including being denied services or asked to leave public spaces.

Sincerely, Aanya Vig

Dear Urban Air Corporation

By Samaira Doshi, 8th Grade

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Outstanding Writer

hildren with disabilities are too often treated unfairly, and businesses have a responsibility to create spaces where every child feels welcome. A diagnosis should never take away a child's right to play, explore, and experience the world like everyone else. These children are still kids, and they deserve the same opportunities, patience, and respect. I know this because I have witnessed it happen to my own little brother.

One day, his excitement became too loud, and he was asked to leave because the sounds of his joy were seen as an inconvenience rather than something to be understood. I watched his face fall as a place he loved was suddenly taken away from him. He deserves the freedom to move without being penalized—to run, laugh, and play just as every child was meant to.

32 | 2026 | Volume 3 | Issue 3

My family's experience is not unique. According to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, 1 in 6 children in the United States has a developmental disability and experiences the world through unique ways of sensing, communicating, and interacting.

This issue is not only heartbreaking—it is about equal rights.

The Americans with Disabilities Act guarantees people with disabilities equal access to public accommodations. A 2024 New York Times article, "For Families of Children With Autism, Public Spaces Can Become Battlegrounds," describes how many families eventually stop visiting public places after repeated experiences of exclusion. They don't stay home because of their children's behavior; they stay home because society has failed to make them feel they belong.

Urban Air has the opportunity to change that story.

Simple changes—such as disability awareness training for staff, sensory-friendly hours with reduced noise, and clearly communicated inclusion policies—can make an enormous difference. These efforts would not only support children with disabilities but also send a powerful message to every family who walks through your doors: You are welcome here.

We are not asking for special treatment. We are asking for the patience, understanding, and compassion that every child deserves.

When my brother is asked to leave, he doesn't understand company policies or liability concerns. He only understands that he has been told he doesn't belong.

I urge you to do better. Choose to build bridges instead of barriers. Choose inclusion over exclusion. Most importantly, choose to be the place where every child has the opportunity to laugh, play, and simply be a kid.

Sincerely, A Sister Who Refuses to Stay Silent

Dear Future Pet Owners: Younger Isn't Always Better

By Lily Trotta, 8th Grade

Dear Future Pet Owners: Younger Isn’t Always Better,

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ou might picture the moment you bring home your new companion—a fluffy bundle of fur for the first, second, or even tenth time. You imagine cradling a tiny, mewling kitten in your arms or laughing as a playful puppy eagerly explores its new home. But while you're searching for the youngest and cutest animals, it's easy to overlook the ones who need you most.

Behind the kennel doors sit senior pets, their hopeful eyes telling stories of love, loss, and resilience. They wait patiently, wondering if someone will choose them and give them the second chance they deserve.

I am asking you to consider adopting a senior pet.

For cats and dogs seven years and older, a shelter is more than a temporary stop—it becomes a place where they spend countless days waiting for a family that may never come.

According to the ASPCA, senior cats spent an average of 8.5 days longer in shelters than younger cats in 2025.

supervision than younger animals.

Having owned senior pets myself, I know firsthand what extraordinary companions they can be. Their quiet affection, gentle personalities, and unwavering loyalty make every moment together worthwhile.

According to The New York Times, approximately two-thirds of American households own a pet, and countless others are considering adoption. Imagine the difference we could make if more families looked beyond age and chose compassion instead. Even if you aren't ready to adopt permanently, fostering a senior pet offers another meaningful way to help. It provides these animals with comfort, stability, and love while they wait for their forever homes.

I encourage you to open your heart to an older animal. You may be giving them only a chapter of your life, but to them, you will be their entire world. Every senior pet deserves the chance to spend their final years surrounded by love instead of waiting behind shelter walls.

The next time you walk through a shelter, don't just look at the youngest faces. Look into the eyes that have waited the longest. You may discover that the pet who needs you most is also the one who has the most love left to give.

Sincerely, A Concerned Cat Owner

Sadly, waiting does not guarantee adoption. Senior dogs have an adoption rate of just 25%, compared to nearly 60% for younger dogs and puppies.

For many older animals, the future is heartbreaking.

According to the ASPCA, 27,700 healthy senior cats were euthanized in 2025. Imagine a frightened dog retreating into the corner of a kennel with its tail tucked low, or a cat curled tightly into a ball, unaware that its time is running out. Behind every statistic is an animal whose life ended long before it should have. Each one could have known the comfort of a loving home but was passed over simply because of age.

Many people hesitate to adopt older animals because they worry about potential health problems and veterinary costs.

While senior pets may require additional care, many remain healthy and active for years with regular preventive care. They are often calmer, already house-trained, and require less daily Cedar Hill Prep Chronicle | 33

Street Art Mural

“We Are Today’s Tomorrow”

By Isha Gupta, 7th Grade

7

th Grade students learned about Graffiti and Street Art this year, as well as well known street artists like JeanMichel Basquiat and Keith Haring. They learned about why street artists choose to create their art in public spaces as opposed to on a canvas.

The reason is usually to spread a message that is important to them. The students were then tasked to create a mural design that conveyed a message that was important to them to their audience. Isha took what we learned and designed a beautiful mural that is both hopeful for our future, and inspirational for the next generation of leaders.

CEDAR HILL PREPARATORY SCHOOL INNOVATION | EXCELLENCE | GLOBAL READINESS 34 | 2026 | Volume 3 | Issue 3

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