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Impressions Volume I 2011


Stephanie Tam, 8th


I m p r e s s i o n s Mem ber s

C o n trib uto rs

Victoria Addonizio, Kathleen Boyles. Rutha Chivate, Paul Cooke, Thomas Daily, Jack Devine, Kate Ellsworth, Katherine Gerberich, Thibaud Ginoux, Serena He, Augustus Huang, William Huang, Melissa LeDonne, Kate Li, Jason Li, Anna Mucciarone, Kevin Ouyang, Kevin Qiu, Jasmer Sethi Mihir Somaiya, Kelli Swedish, Roopa Venkatraman, Samantha Wu, Christopher Zurfluh

Jenna Adams, Shawn Addonizio, Victoria Addonizio, Isabella Ames, Chad Babar, Adam Berner, Noor Bhatia, Emma Borden, Kate Christiansen, Rutha Indira Chivate, Andrew Ciardella, Erin Cooke, Paul Cooke, Katarina D’Ambrosio, Jack Devine, Sophia Duke-Mosier, Christina Elliott, Emilia Ferrante, Brian Frost, Augustine George, Katherine Gerberich, Lauren Gibson, Ryan Guy, Gillian Hauschild, Serena He, Kattrena Hendrickson, Catherine Keve, Flynn Kinney, Jacob Lawrence, Annabel Lecky, Melissa LeDonne, Daniel Li, Jason Li, Kate Li, Scott Li, Michael Lin, Emily Matcham, Connor McDowell, Sofia Mauger, Mary-Paule Monks, Akshay Patel, Priya Patel, Nicolas Petruso, Josiah Pettway, Kelly Qiu, Kevin Qiu, Megan Rougas, Florence Sethi, Christopher Sockler, Mihir Somaiya, Thomas Stone, Charlotte Stout, Kelli Swedish, Stephanie Tam, Kylee Tucholski, Tessa Vaccaro, Roopa Venkatraman, Lili Wang, Matthew Wheeler, Colleen Wiseman, Andrew Wong, Samantha Wu

Supervising Staff Editor Elizabeth Levine

Staff Editor-in-Chief Caroline Bachmann

Ab ou t U s Cranbury School’s very first issue of Impressions would not have been possible without a generous donation from the Cranbury Education Foundation. Additionally, we would like to thank Mrs. Waldron, Mrs. Malouf, and all the teachers, staff, students, friends, and family who have supported the club over the past year through submissions and words of encouragement. We would also like to recognize Scott Li for creating the magazine’s very fitting name; we hope you enjoy the impressions of Cranbury School represented within these pages. For any questions or comments please contact


Ta b l e o f C o n t e n t s


An i m a l Anti c s

- Daniel Li, 2nd 

- Sofia Mauger and Ryan Guy, Kindergarten6

An i m a l Anti c s

- Kattrena Hendrickson and Akshay Patel, Kindergarten6

Roc k e t s

- Akshay Patel, Kindergarten


- Flynn Kinney, 2nd  - Nicolas Petruso, 2nd  - Chad Babar, 2nd 

Fis h

Ice C re a m ! - Priya Patel, 1 



D ogs

- Jenna Adams, 1 



Wat e r

- Matthew Wheeler, 2  nd

S t ar s

- Kylee Tucholski, 2nd 


S un

- Andrew Ciardella, 2nd 

S pi der ’s We b

- Christopher Sockler, 2 

Eagl e s

- Lauren Gibson, 2 

Turt l e


- Adam Berner, 2 

Vo l c a n o




9 9 9 9

- Thomas Stone, 2 



- Annabel Lecky, 2nd 


- Noor Bhatia, 2nd 



- Katarina D’Ambrosio, 2nd 

Pup p ies

- Katie Christiansen, 2nd  - Brian Frost, 3rd 

Where A re Yo u, Satin? - Lili Wang, 3rd 

Sp ring

- Colleen Wiseman, 3rd  - Emily Matcham, 3rd 

Bub b le G um - Kevin Qiu, 5th 

- Serena He, 5th 

13 13 14

M y Ro o m is a Zo o ! E x c er pt f rom Wo rth - Emilia Ferrante, 4th 

12 12

T he Tro ub les o f Ro nnie

G o G reen nd



S oc c e r



Co co nut Trees

Blo s s o m Tree

- Erin Cooke, 1st 


Ro cks

Gil an d B er t s

- Connor McDowell, 1st7


Sav ing

14 16 19 19


- Jack Devine, 5th 

Oh Only

- Roopa Venkatraman, 5th 

Th e N i ght ma re - Paul Cooke, 5th 

Th e I m pos s i b l e K n o t - Jason Li, 5  th

Th e S ea s on o f H e a t - Kate Li, 5  th


- Melissa LeDonne, 5th 

Poet r y?

- Victoria Addonizio, 5th 

S ea s ons

- Rutha Indira Chivate, 5th 

Th e H u m a n

- Mihir Somaiya, 6th 

War U n fai r

- Victoria Addonizio, 5th 

Th e C e l l

- Andrew Wong, 6th 


- Samantha Wu, 7th 

C h a r l ot t e

- Charlotte Stout, 7th 

Tess a Vac c a ro - Tessa Vaccaro, 7th 

Th e W i ndo w - Kelli Swedish, 7th 

19 23 24

T he Real Hero

- Mary-Paule Monks, 8th 

Ho meco ming

- Katherine Gerberich, 8th 

Quiet and Eas y - Catherine Keve, 8th 

A Secret Cho rd 25

- Sophia Duke-Mosier, 8th 

35 37 37 38

I l l u s t r at i o n s 26 26 27 27 28 28 29 31 33 34 34

Richa Khanolkar, 8th Cover th 2 Stephanie Tam, 8  Megan Rougas, 1st  8 Josiah Pettway, 2nd  10 nd Thomas Stone, 2  10 Daniel Li, 2nd  10 Isabella Ames, 2nd  11 nd Florence Sethi, 2  11 Emma Borden, 2nd  11 Katie Christiansen, 2nd  12 12 Augustine George, 2nd  nd Noor Bhatia, 2  12 Shawn Addonizio, 3rd  14 Gillian Hauschild, 3rd  15 th Michael Lin, 4  16 Kate Li, 5th  18 Richa Khanolkar, 8th 19 Christina Elliott, 8th  20 Scott Li, 7th  21 Kelly Qui, 6th  22 Jacob Lawrence, Kindergarten 23 th Victoria Addonizio, 5  25 Jack Devine, 5th  29 Serena He, 5th  31 th Christina Elliott, 8  32 Stephanie Tam, 8th  39


An i m a l Anti c s Sofia went to the jungle riding on a alligator that was named Ryan. And Ryan was biting the trees, and it was shaky and shivery. Sofia slided off the tail. She got hurt. - Sofia Mauger and Ryan Guy, Kindergarten

An i m a l Anti c s It was so hot out that the coyotes bought ice cream. When they finished their ice cream they played with the scorpions. They got more ice cream. They shared with the scorpions. - Kattrena Hendrickson and Akshay Patel, Kindergarten

Roc k e t s Rockets zoom up into space. They zoom past stars. They zoom past 8 planets. They zoom past the sun. They return to Earth--our home. - Akshay Patel, Kindergarten


Gil an d B er t s I see people buying ice cream. I hear the bell being rung ding dong! I smell yummy ice cream. I taste tasty vanilla ice cream. I feel cold in my mouth. I know it’s ice cream time! Gil and Berts - Connor McDowell, 1st

S oc c e r Super fun and cool! Of all the sports it is my favorite! Cleats dig into the ground! Cheers come from the stands! Everyone is clapping! Really fun! - Erin Cooke, 1st

Ice C re a m ! I love it. Ask me why. Because.... It’s cold, you can eat it any time, there are millions of flavors, It’s so, so sweet and creamy; you can eat it many ways, it’s just a great treat. Oh and it always makes me smile...that’s why I love it. - Priya Patel, 1st


D ogs I like them. Ask me why. Because they wag their tail. Because they are playful. Because they are talented, nice, and joyful. Because they love meat and bones. Because they jump so high. Because they are friendly. Because they can watch things. Because their hearts reach the sky. Because they are deep in my heart. Because, that’s why. - Jenna Adams, 1st

Megan Rougas, 1st


Wat e r Dense gleaming moisture Ongoing flowing current Crystal clear, Light blue - Matthew Wheeler, 2nd

Sp id er’s Web Spider, Oh spider! That is a lovely web Shiny in the sun!

S t ar s

- Christopher Sockler, 2nd

Stars are so pretty! Beautiful stars in the sky Beautiful sights Wow! - Kylee Tucholski, 2nd

Eag les Flapping wings up high, Turning heads and soaring down, Caught prey eating fast

S un

- Lauren Gibson, 2nd

The sun is so bright Up in the sky so high A really big star - Andrew Ciardella, 2nd

Turtle The turtle is slow. It can hide in its hard shell. Where did turtle go? - Adam Berner, 2nd


Vo l c a n o Erupting lava on every one and thing, ashes everywhere - Thomas Stone, 2nd Thomas Stone, 2nd

Ro cks Rocks, on sandy beach There might be something under Now just look and see. - Flynn Kinney, 2nd Josiah Pettway, 2nd

Fire Flaring blazing flames Nice quiet and peaceful flares Lonely glowing flame. - Daniel Li, 2nd


Daniel Li, 2nd

C oconut Tre e s Coconut tree brown Coconut taste really good They are really round! - Nicolas Petruso, 2nd Emma Borden, 2nd

Blo s s o m Tree I love the sunlight Pink, purple, bright colors Where and what am I? Isabella Ames, 2

- Annabel Lecky, 2nd


Pla n t s Green great plants helping Always growing all the time Nature needs you plants - Chad Babar, 2nd

Florence Sethi, 2nd


Fis h Slippery fish swim in the crystal blue water colorful fun fish! - Noor Bhatia, 2nd Noor Bhatia, 2nd

Pup p ies Puppies are playful My puppy will chase a bee Do not jump on me! - Katie Christiansen, 2nd Katie Christiansen, 2nd

Ca t s Cats are lovable They purr and meow so softly They make me feel glad. - Katarina D’Ambrosio, 2nd Augustine George, 2nd


Th e Trou ble s o f R o n n i e It was a dreary day when I got detention. Great. I have football practice every afternoon. I’m pretty popular on the football team. I’m famous for blocking and sacking. I’m 5 feet 3 inches tall. I’m 90 pounds. Brrrrrrriiinnngg. That’s the bell. It’s recess. My team always does a scrimmage. I told them I got detention. “Stop getting in trouble,” they yelled. I told them I’ll stop getting in trouble. Big mistake! Hold on, I thought, the detention teacher told me he will be absent! No detention! SMACK! I just got hit in the head with the ball. Hold on, “Yo, watch it!” But still, I always get in trouble when I’m having fun. Aren’t kids allowed to have fun? “Hello, anybody home?” Skinny Johnson yelled. I sat down at the kitchen table. I was having Twinkies as my snack. My mom was telling me how to not get in trouble. I tried what my mom had told me. Believe it or not, it worked! It was the first day I didn’t get detention. Party time! - Brian Frost, 3rd

Where Are Yo u , Sa t i n ? “Hi, Mom!” Maria said when she walked in the door. But Satin, Maria’s cat, had very quietly slipped out of the door. By the time Maria realized what happened, it was dark. Maria and her older brother, Aiden, went outside to look for Satin. Since Satin was gray, it would be hard to find her. Tonight it would be super hard because it was a foggy night, and there was a new moon. When Maria went to call her brother to say let’s ask mom and dad to help, she finds Satin on the front porch. Satin is like, “Well it’s about time you let me in.” The first thing Maria said was, “Never do that again!” So finally, Maria went to bed. - Lili Wang, 3rd


S pr i n g Spring, spring what a wonderful season. Flowers, birthdays, and picnics in the park. Canoeing, biking, and camping on the Delaware River. Birds singing in the morning and eating outdoors. I can’t wait until Spring. Can you? - Colleen Wiseman, 3rd

My Room i s a Z o o ! My room is a zoo! There are toys and clothes All over the place. It makes my mom go CUCKOO! My room is a zoo! - Emily Matcham, 3rd

Shawn Addonizio, 3rd


Gillian Hauschild, 3rd


E x c erpt from

Wo r t h Sa v i n g

“Charlotte,” she said, eyes shining, “You are the only thing worth saving around here. Please. I want to.” Charlotte heaved a sigh of defeat and wrote, I just can’t believe you’re doing this. She made to get up but suddenly turned around and squeezed Michelle with all the strength the little girl could muster. “Thank you,” whispered Charlotte so low that she could hardly hear herself, so low she didn’t cough. Michelle squeezed back, and when they broke apart, both faces shone with tears, but somehow both were smiling. “You’re serious, Michelle?” asked Margo incredulously the next morning when Michelle told her her plan. “Yes. Definitely,” replied Michelle. “Okay. I’ll…um, talk, to your parents. If you’re sure,” Margo agreed in bewilderment. “Oh, I’m sure alright,” Michelle said, now to an empty room, for Margo had already marched out. “Certificate of honor to Miss Michelle Nitingale from Brook Hospital for good deed as follows: Gave insurance and money originally for her cancer treatment to Miss Charlotte (last name unknown) to prevent her from passing away. Thank you, Miss Nitingale!” announced the chief resident. As the uproarious applause decreased, he handed her a sheet with the words just spoken on it in fancy golden script. “Th-thank you,” stuttered Michelle. Everyone was there— staff, parents, even some well-enough patients. They were all clapping and cheering. Amidst the wave of people, she saw her parents, side by side, crying. They had begged her not to, but she stood strong, and they finally said that her life was in her control, and, with many tears, allowed it. Allowed it, knowing it was a decision that would mean that their daughter would soon not be with them. A couple of weeks after the ceremony, Charlotte slowly got better, and Michelle slowly got worse. She would not make it much longer. Michelle began savoring every moment because it could be her last. However, these moments were not remorseful; in fact, they were some of the best she’d ever Michael Lin, 4th


had in her life. Charlotte was the main reason for that—she was always at Michelle’s bedside. She did not even leave at night, for she had taken down the curtain dividing her room, and Michelle’s and had pushed the beds together. The pair was inseparable. Sometimes they could pretend nothing was going on—they were just regular friends, hanging out. Of course, it would never really be like that—never. And that was made final when Michelle woke up the next morning. “I guess…this’ll be the last time I talk to you,” Charlotte said uncomfortably as she shuffled into Michelle’s room. The doctors had informed everyone gravely that “only a miracle could save her now.” Michelle nodded glumly and said, “Probably.” Charlotte sat down on Michelle’s bed. Michelle was propped up on her pillow. “I just can’t thank you enough. You’ve changed my life.  A lot,” whispered Charlotte. Michelle croaked, “Same to you.”  Charlotte put her face in her hands.  Her robe was splotchy with tears. “I’m really gonna miss you.  More than you know.  You’re like the family I never had.  And now you’re gonna…”  Her words were cut off by a heart-wrenching sob.  Michelle was suddenly swept up into an enormous hug. “You mean the world to me, Michelle,” Charlotte whispered.  Michelle only gripped back.  This was a moment words cannot describe, for Michelle suddenly knew that she was taking her last breath of air.  She was not panicked or crying or angry.  She was peaceful.  Her last moment hung in the air longer, it seemed, than other moments, like the last note of a beautiful symphony.  Her life had been a song—wonderful while it lasted, the last note holding everything dear in its heart.  But, like all moments, this one ended.  Her last.  But the best one of her life. Charlotte gasped as she felt the cold body she was holding, now limply.  Like Michelle, she accepted what had happened.  Also like Michelle, she did not cry, “No!” or feel angry.  Charlotte knew her friend had gone the way she wanted to and had given up her life for her.  And since she gave up her life for me, thought Charlotte, I will live it to its fullest for her.  I’ll make it worth saving. As Charlotte was making her bed the next morning, she found something under her pillow.  Notebook paper.  She shook her head.  The paper reminded her of when she and Michelle had first met.  Only about three weeks ago, Charlotte thought.  As she was about to put the paper in the trash can, she noticed the handwriting on the note. “Michelle?” gasped Charlotte. Dear Charlotte,    You are too amazing to describe.  Believe me—your life was worth saving. - Emilia Ferrante, 4th


Kate Li, 5th


B u bbl e Gum Growing and growing, Like the existence of a mere human, With a life of uncertainty, With paths and chances, With success and failure, But it always ends, With nothing. Gone. - Kevin Qiu, 5th

Go Gre e n Come on, please go green You can say, it’s our scheme You will later say We’ll save the world someday And in years, it’ll still be seen

Richa Khanolkar, 8th

- Serena He, 5th

Untitled It may be old and gray, purposeless and just taking up space. It does have a purpose, to somebody else, To them it is exciting and full of happiness, it keeps them busy for hours at a time What is your old junk to somebody else? - Jack Devine, 5th


Christina Elliott, 8th


Scott Li, 7th


Kelly Qiu, 6th


Oh Only The rock pondered, “When will I ever have feet to walk and eyes to see?� All day long I bake in the boiling bubbling sun, Or shiver in the showering rain. When the wind blows, I am tossed around like a merciless insect caught as prey. Oh only, Oh only, If I had feet to walk. If I had feet to walk, I would roam across the city, Visiting house to house, Watching its members bow down to me - their new king. I would gloat gleefully as they praised me in honor. Oh only, Oh only, If I had feet to walk. If I could make a wish, Any wish at all, It would be... To have feet for all. - Roopa Venkatraman, 5th

Jacob Lawrence, Kindergarten


Th e N i ght ma re It was an eerie day to begin with for the paper in the yellow bin. First, he was the last paper in the pile, and he was grabbed by the spookiest kid in the school. The paper felt the sweaty hand grasp him. The clumsy boy dropped the paper and trampled him. The footprint of the boys’ muddy shoe was painful as it soaked through the paper’s fibers. The boy looked at the trampled, ripped paper and grabbed it off the ground in one swift motion. The dull pencil against the paper made the worst sound, the rough graphite scratching his skin. The boy’s sloppy handwriting made the paper feel neglected and disrespected. Why, why, why must he be the last paper in the yellow bin and then taken by such a hideous person? The boy stopped writing. He handed the teacher the paper. The teacher took the paper and made a face. She looked at the paper, then the shredder beside her desk. No, no! Thought the paper. The teacher moved the paper towards the shredder, and turned it on. Noooo! The paper wished he could say. Suddenly, he found himself sitting in the yellow bin, the last in the pile. What a nightmare! He thought. Then he thought about the tragedy and went back to sleep. - Paul Cooke, 5th


Th e I m pos s i b l e K n o t Going past the rope twice, Threading a knot three times thrice. Yanking it straight, To emancipate, This impossible knot. Pulling hard on the left, Flying hands spin so deft, Gasping in desperation, drooling in anticipation, Of solving the impossible knot. Fiddling, thinking, eyeballing hard, Madly shattering glass and shard. Screaming in defeat, There is no repeat, Of the incident of the impossible knot. - Jason Li, 5th

Victoria Addonizio, 5th


Th e S ea s on o f H e a t Summer. The sun is vicious, the sun is angry. Snow is sleepy this month and won’t fall at all. Sun gives people intolerable heat and melts ice cream, the people’s only hope. But here comes water to the rescue! You can drink it, swim in it, and play with the stuff! Just for a little while, before it’s gone. The sun sucks it up, though it doesn’t give it back. Please sun, give it back; give us some mercy; won’t you for once? People love summer, but why is that so? I‘d rather be succeeding in school, where April brings May, than have no school, and be burned by “the season.” - Kate Li, 5th

Medusa If you look to me, you will fall. If you see me still, like a wall, you will fall. If you look into my eyes, you will fall and turn to stone, my eyes will gleam, across the walk, and you will stand as still as a rock. - Melissa LeDonne, 5th


Poet r y? Poetry can be confusing Do you just glance at it? Or take it in with total concern? Maybe it’s your writing Should you write it or read it? Is it your topic that’s wrong? For a test in school should you write about school? Can you write about your new dog? Do you write about things you like? Or things you find disgusting? Have you written a title? Does it fit with your meaning? Do you even have a meaning? Should you draw a picture? Or maybe cut one out of a magazine Do you even need a picture? What do you think about poetry? And what is poetry to you? Why do you write poetry? - Victoria Addonizio, 5th

S ea s ons Summer, winter, spring, and fall Round and round they go Beach balls, baseballs, soccer balls, snow balls Then they start over once more Which season is the best? Winter passes, spring goes by, then all the rest. - Rutha Indira Chivate, 5th


Th e H u m a n The Human Like a grain of sand, Washed away by the forces of time, The creator, And the cruel destroyer. The one who ignites the spark of curiosity, The one who leads the growing world, Into the dark abyss of our future. The one who lights the way, To a better day. The one who feels death’s sting, Like a knife to the skin. The dead, The living, The human. - Mihir Somaiya, 6th

War U n fai r All friend and foe shall rock the Earth On this wet and dreary night Away from fires on the hearth Concealing this huge fight Brave soldiers all cried out in fear For they had crossed the enemy’s line The gunshots were loud for all to hear Leaving safe homes far behind Dark thoughts filled all of their minds Away they dreamed of a happy home But they were out all alone - Victoria Addonizio, 5th


Th e C e l l There stood a mischievous man, suspiciously looking at the small moving piece of matter. There stood the man who had first discovered the microscope. A massive accomplishment! There he stood astonished and frozen looking at these tiny pieces of moving matter. He had used this discovery to look at moving cells. These were things that made up our body. In fact, it made up about everything! Sooner this experiment and discovery became very famous. Many scientists also use this device or instrument to discover other unknown things among living things. - Andrew Wong, 6th

Jack Devine, 5th


Untitled Her hair sifted through her fingers, catching on the silver ring that adorned the index. She tore it from her hand and threw it down on the table, where it rattled against the enamel surface. We watched it wobble around in circles. Eventually, it stopped, engraved side facing me. It had been a gift from her older sister, who had gotten it from their mother. Their mother had inherited it from her mother, who had been given it by her mother. It supposedly was a financial safety net—if the family’s stocks went bad, she intended to sell it on eBay. My eyes dropped to her faded t-shirt. I used to only see her in designer jeans and vintage blouses purchased at boutiques considered to be très chic, and she had a penchant for veal. How she would beg to take me out to fine dining! But today, she’d specifically asked to go to McDonald’s. We’d split the expense for the first time, and she’d used real money instead of her sleek black credit card. “How are you?” I asked. “Fine.” “So… have you started to look on eBay?” Her eyes tightened as she realized what I was inferring. “I have enough money. More than you, at least. Mind your own business.” I shrugged and scraped my fork across the bottom of my plastic plate. I’d seen her dragging a middle-aged man into a drug rehab clinic last week. It was funny how she denied fiscal ruin, seeing as how her father was the sole breadwinner of the family. “How’s you sister? I haven’t seen her in a while.” “She’s at college,” she answered, not without venom. “It’s summer.” “She’s taking summer courses.” I nodded and stabbed at a piece of chicken. “Really? You know, my sister called me yesterday. She told me that she loved the sleep-away camp she was going to, and that her camp counselor was the best. She also told me that her camp counselor looked exactly like your sister.” Silence. “So I guess I’m not going with you to Paris, right?” I hinted. No response. “Look,” I said finally, “if you’re having any trouble— ”


“Why do you care? So I don’t have a ton of money anymore. Shove off. Sad you don’t have a rich friend to buy you expensive toys and take you jet setting? Leave me alone. I don’t want to hear from you. I don’t want you to e-mail me, call me, or write me a letter. When you go off to gap year in Venice, I hope you fall off a gondola.” With that, she grabbed her hamburger wrapper and stormed away. Dumped by my life-long friend at a fast food restaurant. How ironic. A month later, I saw her several aisles down at the grocery store. She was bagging an old lady’s box of crackers, and on her shirt there was a name tag. Our family had a tradition that on Labor Day every year, we donated $10,000 to charity. Extra money, my mother said. It forced us to value each dollar, and most of all, to value each other. The week before Labor Day, I checked eBay. Sure enough, there was the silver ring. There weren’t many takers, and the bids were pretty low. At this rate, the ring would be sold for a meager $146.99—a ridiculous price for something a century old. When Labor Day rolled around, my parents asked where the $10,000 for charity went. I told them that I had already given it to a good cause, and that, no worries, I had not spent it on myself. That day, my good friend, lover of designer clothes and high fashion, found her beloved silver ring in a basket on her doorstep. - Samantha Wu, 7th

Serena He, 5th


Christina Elliott, 8th


C h a r l ot t e A French name, but alas, I am not A descendant of France. Mae Like the month, but alas, I was Born a month later. Charlotte Mae, Like my 2 great-grandmothers, Whom I only saw when I was young. A French month, If you will, Is what I am. But I don’t enjoy French. I immerse myself with Spanish and Chinese. And for me, a month is too long of a time Period. If this is who I am, Then maybe my Name shouldn’t be Charlotte Mae. Or should it? I can’t imagine it any other way. - Charlotte Stout, 7th


Tess a Vac c a ro only five syllables long but they represent so much more those five syllables represent a whole entire person they represent a drummer a pianist and a singer they represent a student a sister and a friend those five syllables represent a whole entire person they represent a twelve-year old with blond hair and green eyes they represent a perfectionist aspiring to do great things those five syllables represent a whole entire person they represent a basketball player a sprinter and a fan they represent an extrovert with a confident determined walk those five syllables represent a whole entire person - Tessa Vaccaro, 7th

T he Wind o w A window out of which I used to see my favorite things. Birds Trees Animals Snow These things come and go. One year all of these things Came and went as they should However, they did not return From the distant wood. When I look out the window I see someone else’s joy, Their faces bright as fire’s flame This window shows me naught Of frivolities or fame, But, rather, reminds me that There is an end to every dream. - Kelli Swedish, 7th


Th e Rea l H e ro Superman – a hero? Is that a joke? Does he pick you up when you fall Does he kiss your skinned knee And tell you it will be alright No matter how mad he gets Will he always say good night? My hero knows when I will laugh And when I will cry Yet she is there for both trials and tribulations And cheers with me in my jubilations Somehow with infinite patience ‘How can a mom be a hero’ They all will say She’s a hero in what she does every day Who else can have the courage To act with dignity Every morning to wake up And face her every fear All in one 5-foot-4-teenager from hell To selflessly give up 18 years of her life Just to wonder and hope she’s doing it right And she works and slaves with all of her might Till her back is aching and tight Even though tomorrow she knows She will continue her fight Not for her wants and needs But for others, for her children She tackles the impossible Teaching what cannot be taught Doing what is not done Hoping for the hopeless Loving those who seem to be incapable of loving Knowing what no one else knows She has fathomed the Unfathomable

Made the not doable done She has been there, done that And never got that t-shirt she deserved When she knows she will be let down Not only does she give her life in time and years But would die without any fear If she knew it would save her ungrateful child Who will ever recognize her What she has done, no one will know What proof of her heroics will she have to show Yet she never slows Not until that fateful day When she must remain composed And her child, her life walks away Her baby is now all grown up Eighteen years of service Eighteen years of fear and doubt Eighteen years of courage Eighteen years of her life Eighteen years of being a mom Eighteen years of being a hero - Mary-Paule Monks, 8th


H om ec om in g A d apt ed from Cy nth ia Voig t’s no ve l Home c o m i n g It was a sweltering hot day as we trudged down Route One; I heard Maybeth say “Are we there yet? My feet hurt a ton.” “No.” I reluctantly answered in a sullen tone, but Maybeth didn’t even let out a groan. We warily walked for hours on end, much to my troop’s dismay; there were over ten miles ‘til their grandmother’s house, and the day was washing away. Darker and darker the skies grew, but we dragged on, pulling through. I wondered where we would spend the night, for the town we’d just passed was now out of sight. My thoughts were racing in and out of my brain, when I pondered, yet again, about Momma’s disdain. I looked back on the weeks that’d gone by, and how we’d managed to survive. Back to the first night that she’d left us alone, back to the nights full of the unknown. I picked up the scattered times of the pastthe circus, the park, and Cousin Eunice’s were back in order at last. While at the circus, we’d been safe and sound, but now, danger lurked all around. Maybeth was euphoric when put to work with Claire; now she retorted back into her old self, which many thought was despair. At the circus, there was excitement for everyonefrom animals to cannons to tightropes and more, Will and Claire always had something in store. Our home for awhile, that circus it was, the people accepted us like no one else does.


The park was but slightly secluded from the outside, however, was a nice place to reside. Poor James with a headache from a fall while fishing for food, was lying at our campsite with the rest of the brood. Where Sammy first stole a lunch along with a wallet packed tight, where we all learned how to overcome fright-But back at Cousin Eunice’s, we were put to work like that! Spic and span is how she wanted her house, not even room for a mess made by a mouse. We stayed for awhile, too long in one spot for us, though, can quickly become vile. My feet had grown heavy a long while ago, the darkness now danced in front of my eyes. Where to settle for the night? It must be well after ten the night’s still young thoughbut what tomorrow brings, we do not know… - Katherine Gerberich, 8th

Quiet and Eas y When all is quiet, all is easy Restart a friendship Restart old habits All is easy Secrets are still kept, memories haven’t been forgotten All is quiet Stay personal, but be social, When all is quiet and easy - Catherine Keve, 8th


A Se c ret C h o rd They said that there was just one way Close your eyes and look away It’s better this way But then there was a secret chord That rang through those ignored It goes like this: The love, the light A guiding hand that grasped at the light Failure does not exist Values can persist But darkness closing in The wind whispering through the trees Painful memories But then there was a blaze of light Shining through the night There was more than just one way Don’t close your eyes, don’t look away For the hand that thrusts could not withstand The smallest touch that came from love Someday the light will come, just remember There is more than just one way Don’t close your eyes, don’t look away - Sophia Duke-Mosier, 8th


Stephanie Tam, 8th



Impressions V. I. 2011  

Cranbury Literary Magazine's first issue of the literary magazine, Impressions.