Grade 6 Short Story Anthology - 2015

Traded Tales A Fair Trade Short Story Anthology Grade 6 - 2014/2015

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Traded Tales is a collection of short stories written by the grade six students on the topic of fair trade. For their stories, they were asked to personify a commodity that is often traded unfairly, create a cohesive story line and educate the reader.

They prepared for their writing by completing some initial research on their commodity and challenging themselves with creative writing workshops.

Table of Contents 6A Matthew A. Elma A. Sam B. Lieveke B. Romi B. Cleo B. Devin D. Vitaliy F. Cole F. Jordan H. Lucie H. Madeline L. Ella M. Maryah N. Nicolas O. Eliana P. Sameer P. Isaac R. Pippi S. Aarish S. Hayden S. James T.

pg. 4 pg. 7 pg. 10 pg. 12 pg. 15 pg. 18 pg. 22 pg. 25 pg. 29 pg. 31 pg. 33 pg. 38 pg. 40 pg. 43 pg. 46 pg. 48 pg. 51 pg. 53 pg. 56 pg. 59 pg. 61 pg. 63

6B Monica A. Alice B. Alex B. Sasha B. Anthony C. Alexandra C. Christos G. Mimi H. Julia K. Steve L. Avery M. Bruk N.M. Ben P. Lauren P. Ella R. Grace R. Michael S. Joseph S. Seumas S. Ishi S. William W. Taylor Z.

pg. 66 pg. 68 pg. 70 pg. 72 pg. 75 pg. 78 pg. 80 pg. 81 pg. 84 pg. 86 pg. 88 pg. 92 pg. 95 pg. 98 pg. 101 pg. 104 pg. 105 pg. 109 pg. 111 pg. 114 pg. 117 pg. 119

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6A

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Through The Ages by: Matthew Adelberg 600 C.E. It’s strange how much things can change over the years. Soaring mountains can become deep valleys, and desolate canyons can become beautiful lakes. But, the biggest thing that’s changed is humanity’s mark on the world. They went from small, primitive mammals to beings responsible for the destruction or salvation of this world.

Instead of focussing on these large, grand-scale things, we will zoom in on a small, inconsequential piece of rock and metal, held in a small cave in what the humans will eventually call Tanzania. But, though inconsequential, it is worth enough to humans that they will even abandon their morals and environment to find it.

Our story starts in the year 600 of what the humans now call the Current Era, when our little gold ore has just been formed. He is excited, and has some idea of what he will be worth to humans when they find him. All ores know their approximate worth, and this decides their selfesteem. The gold estimates that, because of his worth, he would be mined by humans and forged into something beautiful in about 20 years. This, of course, is not true, as he does not get mined until about 2014 C.E. By then, he will want the exact opposite of what he desires now. The only thing he will want in the world then will be to stay in his cave and not be found by the miners.

1000 C.E.

It has been 400 years since we last visited our gold. He is now in early adulthood, and he is bored. His estimate of 20 years before being mined fell far short. He can’t exactly move around, being a piece of rock. But, just as he thinks that he will never even see the outside world, the outside world breaks in.

The broken rocks covering the entrance of the small, damp cave were not that strong. From what the gold had learned about the cave from his friends, the copper and iron ore, the cave had been open and very large until a massive landslide covered everything. And, from then until now, they had been bathed in darkness.

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Matthew Adelberg But now, light seeped into the long-shadowed cave. And with it, a man. This is the first time that our gold has ever seen a human, and he immediately thinks that all of their kind look exactly like that one man. The man himself is not exactly at the peak of health. He is old, wrinkled, and wiry, and his skin has started to droop. Even though, the gold is now extremely excited.

1998 C.E.

It has now been only slightly less than a millennium since we have seen our gold. He, or at least, his mind, is now in its late 20s. He has seen a little over 20 people now, and realizes that not all people look like the original man he saw. Some looked much stronger, fitter, and more robust.

Then, one day, a whole group of modern-looking, strong, tall humans entered the cave complex.

After several hundred years of looking around his little home from the same place, the gold has realized that his cave is not just a solitary one. It is merely an offshoot of a much larger cave system.

The humans look around the cave and leave with very excited expressions. This makes the gold (mentally) shudder with anticipation. He would be mined any day now!

2014 C.E.

It has only been a mere 16 years since we have seen our gold, but more has changed for him in that time ten in the past millennium. He has seen what types of workers the humans employ to mine his kind, and he is both appalled and disgusted.

The men and women who go around with their metal tools all have disgusting, rotted hands, completely unlike any other humans he’s seen. The pain emanating from them is so strong, even the gold could feel it. And yet, day after day, they came. That is not the only problem the gold is facing. The once-beautiful savannah outside of his cave had been ruined by the humans. The creatures that he had gazed upon with wonder he now despises. They were evil creatures, destroying their home and their own kind to get him.

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Matthew Adelberg And the worst thing is, he cannot do anything about it. He is just small, solitary piece of gold, beautiful but weak. Every day, when the miners walk in with their wretched bodies, the gold screams at them, begging them to leave.

But it never works.

Then, the day comes when, finally, our little piece of gold is mined. If he could cry, he would.

Modern Day

And now, we are at the end of our little gold’s life in the cave. He now knows why the miners look as they do. The materials they use to beautify him attack them, destroying their bodies. But now, after everything that has happened to him, he now resides on the left pinky finger of a fair trade activist, as she goes on a trip to Africa, searching for the horrible, horrible people who mine gold unfairly.

Oh, the ironies of life.

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The Chocolate’s Adventure By: Elma Aman I am a bar of chocolate. I know this sounds ridiculous, but I’m going to tell you a story about my adventures and how I transformed from a cocoa bean to a bar of chocolate. It all started when the workers planted a cocoa seed into the beautiful soils of Ghana. The combination of the sun shining on me and the farmers watering me, helped me turn into a sprout, then into a stem, and after 2 years, into a large, healthy cocoa tree.

I would see a little boy come and pick certain cocoa pods almost everyday. At first, I thought it was random, but I soon learned the boy only picked the ripest pods of cocoa. I asked the other cocoa pods about it, and they said, I would be picked in my own time.

I passed time by noticing things. I noticed a lot of things. Some things were good, and some things were bad. The good things put a nice smile on my face and made me feel bubbly inside. The bad things felt like a weight on my shoulders. It made me feel like the world is an unfair place. That’s why I always think of the good and ignore the bad. One of the things I noticed, was that the boy who came to the tree everyday always wore the same, black, clothes. He looked dirty, bruised, and sad. I thought little children were supposed to go to school, and he doesn’t seem to live on the farm either. I guessed he just loved his work.

I grew and became ripe, so after a few months, the boy came and picked me from the tree. I felt a feeling I haven’t felt in a long time. I think it’s called excitement! I felt like my insides were jumping up and down, I wanted to jump up and down, and I couldn’t stop smiling!

He took me to a place where I saw lots of other children. There were kids as old as eighteen, and kids as young as four. People just love fermenting cocoa! The downside was that they wore dirty, torn clothes. Like the boy I saw earlier, the kids had cuts and bruises on their body. I felt like someone took my happiness and excitement and crushed it. It was not a good feeling.

The children cut open my pod with machetes, and scooped my cocoa beans out. They threw the outside shell out, and carried me to another room with many wooden crates. They put me into the wooden box for 5-7 days to ferment. There were lots of other cocoa beans there, but they didn’t really talk. One day, I heard some of the farmers talking.

“I stay here all day, and I don’t even get paid!”

I heard one of the children say, “My family is starving all day and all night!”

“I can’t even afford to buy a single loaf of bread!” yelled another.

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Elma Aman A little child, about six years old, said, “There are cuts and bruises all over my body! My hands are tired of cutting cocoa pods all day!”

Suddenly, a man walked in. “What is all this noise!? Stop your whining and get back to work, or I’ll make you work two extra hours!” he yelled.

They all stopped talking and went back to work. I think he is their boss. I felt something inside me. This is a new feeling, a feeling I have never felt before. I felt like a volcano had erupted inside of me. My face turned red, and I wanted to shout. How could he do this to them!? They were treated so unfairly! They deserved a happy, healthy home and a steady salary! I couldn’t ignore this! I had to do something. I spent all night, thinking of what I could do. I thought and thought, but I couldn’t come up with anything.

A different person, a girl this time, came and took the cocoa beans outside. She spread us out in a single layer under the sun to dry. Most of the cocoa beans were taken somewhere else. I asked about that to the other cocoa beans, and they said they were being shipped across the world to prevent mold.

The girl looked so tired. There were bags under her eyes, and she slouched when she walked. She, too, was dirty and had cuts and bruises on her body. She looked like she hadn't eaten in days. I felt really bad for her.

After we finished drying, she took us to a different room with lots of machines. The machines looked like ovens. Before putting us in the oven, she put us in a cylinder dish with lots of holes. She then put us in the oven and left. I guessed she went to repeat the process to the rest of the cocoa beans.

After an hour or so, the same girl came and ground the cocoa beans to make the cocoa liquor. She did that with stone rollers. Then, it was time for tempering. Tempering is when you put us in a room to reach the right temperature. She poured me into a mold. After a couple days, they took me to a different room with grown men and women. They packed me up and shipped me to Europe. I should have been excited about this, but I couldn’t feel anything.

Later, while I was in the store, I saw lots of other chocolate bars. They all didn’t look very happy.

Maybe they had experienced the same thing as me. The chocolate bar beside me seemed to be very happy. “Why are you so happy?” I asked him.

“I’m happy because I’m fair trade,” he replied.

I had no idea what that was so I asked him. He replied, “Fair trade is when the workers are treated fairly. That means they have good working conditions, they are paid a suitable amount of money, and have suitable working hours. The children don’t have to work, they can play, go to school, and do whatever they want.” That was a great idea! I perked up and started smiling.

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Elma Aman

I felt that bubbly feeling inside me again. I felt hope. We exchanged stories. He told me all about fair trade, and I told him about how badly the workers are treated. I decided that I had to take action. “We should write a letter to the cocoa farm I came from,” I told him. “We could persuade him to switch to fairtrade.”

“That’s a great idea!” he exclaimed.

After the shopkeeper left, we got to work. We wrote the letter and made a pros and cons list. We wrote the good things about fair trade, and how important human safety is. Then, we sent it to him.

After a couple months, we got a letter from that farmer. This is what it said: “I have taken your offer into consideration. I’ve switched to fair trade in hopes to help make the world a better place.” The chocolate bar and I then jumped with glee.

One small change can always makes a big difference.

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The Story of a Soccer Ball By: Sam Barnard Hi there, I’m a soccer ball and I happen to be in a game at the moment. I usually either just think, meditate (or at least I call it meditating), or follow the game because, well,I’m the ball and I can’t exactly take part in the game. Actually, here’s a thought coming on: I’ve come a long way from where I came in the place. I was made in Pakistan and traveled from there to England. Hmmm?

Flash Back ↓↓↓↓↓↓ I was made by a Pakistani boy named Mohammed. Mohammed had long, messy hair, he wore a ripped up, dirty, stained soccer jersey and dirty shorts that barely fit him. It was an afternoon day break day, but during the morning, he had to work. Because he was only an eight year old kid, he only managed to finish one ball and that was me. He worked very hard to make me the best ball he had ever made.

For the rest of the afternoon he and his friend Aarish played with me on their net made out of three trees. When the end of the day came around, I could see the frown of sadness on Mohammed’s face as he helped load my friends and I into the truck, longing for a life where he didn’t have to go through child labour. He wanted to go to school or at least earn minimum wage. He wanted to relax and play soccer and maybe get into university and live a normal life. I felt so terrible for him and wanted to help, but, then again, I’m a soccer ball and I can’t really do much, so I had to let it slip.

When I got to Karachi, the place where we get shipped to when we’re ordered, I could see the sweat beading down the forehead of the person who sorted us. He was panting like a dog and he also looked really thirsty and dehydrated. Here we go again, more poorly treated workers who I doubt got payed very much. When we were loaded on the plane, I saw and heard the pilot, who had dark bags, under his eyes yawn and number of times. Ugh, is it that hard to treat them normally and give them some time to rest.

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Sam Barnard

I was put on a shelf of a store in England. The ball next to me became my friend. We argued over who was better, Manchester City or Manchester United (obviously Manchester City), we talked about the other soccer balls we met, and more. But, one conversation that made me jealous about him was that he was made fair trade. The workers that made him got to take breaks, they got money loans to open their own businesses, and most of all,an adult made him. Not a child. No child labour was used to make him. He was SO lucky. I wanted to cry (of course, I can’t, but I still wanted to). I wish I could be made fair trade or made by an adult (not that I don’t like Mohammed, I’d just rather him have a better life rather than going through child labour) who lived a fair life and wasn’t treated poorly like the adults in the unfair trade business.

Flashforward ↓↓↓↓↓↓ To this day, I always hope that one day Mohammed will grow up to get a good job that pays good money or go to school and then go to university and get the life he deserves. I also still, and always will, wish I was made fair trade with well paid workers, who got money loans to open businesses, and could take breaks and relax. That would be awesome.

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Desperate Times By: Lieveke Bax *CLANG* I was violently thrown from wall to wall. Rattling sounds surrounded me. The glass prison I am in frightens me. I was trapped, there was no way out, I could barely breathe, but I wasn’t the only one. We are respected, loved, and very popular, but we can also be mistreated, imprisoned, and wasted, but the same goes for our farmers. A man called Juan made me, it wasn’t his fault that I am in this torturous situation. He had no choice. Every day I could see him become more and more sick, I was afraid he would never come back. Then, I was locked in a deep, dark hole with no way out. I never saw Juan again.

All of a sudden, I stopped moving, interrupting me from my thoughts. I could hear low laughs and raspy voices outside. Then, I could see the light! Was I dead? Was I getting saved? Or, was I just imagining it? Then, the torture started again. I was thrown around in my glass prison, no way of getting out. Two small, black holes taunted me from outside my prison.

“The customers would love this wine,” I heard a raspy voice say from outside.

“The customers love all our wine!” said a female voice. I could hear laughs from outside. I looked at where the laughs where coming from and I saw five giants. They were all dressed in fashionable clothes and they had beautiful, expensive accessories on. It was nothing like Juan had ever put on. Then,the light got brighter and I was placed on a hard, wooden, plank, surrounded by individuals like me, in the same glass prison.

I was on that shelf for about a day, it was terrible. I still couldn’t breathe, I was lonely, and I was in this glass prison for what felt like years. The air was getting thick and I could barely catch my breath. Why was I ever made?! This life is not worth living at all!

Suddenly, I saw a giant, smiling proudly at me. I was throw from wall to wall again. This time it was less violent than before, but it still hurt. I was put in a trunk and after a couple of slams,I started moving. I could hear a girls voice talking in a very thick accent.

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Lieveke Bax “Hi…. Yes, you can come over today... At six….. No, I just bought wine….. Ok, see you then,” I heard the voice say.

All of a sudden, I saw the light again. Okay, this time I was really dead. Then, I was thrown against wall to wall even more violently than before, and I was placed in a really cold, white box.

Three hours passed and I was still in that box, until it opened again and the giant shook me saying, “I have new wine everybody! And guess what? It’s the wine from your farm, Juan!”

Wait a minute Juan? As in my farmer,Juan? I looked around for Juan, then I saw a familiar face. It was Juan! I tried to reach out and hug him, but my glass prison blocked me from any interactions from the outside world. He was like my father, every child needs a father. I had to get out!

“My farm?” Juan asked interrupting me from my thoughts.

“Yes, your farm Juan,” said the giant as she put me on the table.

“Oh, Maria. Thank you so much! First, you pay for my whole trip and now you buy my wine!

You are the best sister ever!” Juan exclaimed as Maria sat down on a seat by the table that I was sitting on.

“If you mind me asking. How much money do you get each year? I’m just writing a book about the wine industry and now my focus is on farmers in Chile,” asked a giant that had a big, fat knot in her hair.

“Well, each month I get 75 centavos, but that’s only when I get lucky,” Juan answered, looking proudly at me.

“What do you do other than making wine?” asked a girl with blond, straight hair while fluttering her eyelashes.

“Nothing. I spend most of my time making wine,” Juan said.

“Well, anyway if you don’t mind I would like to ask you a couple of questions,” interrupted the girl in the weird knot.

“Of course,Katie,” said Juan nervously.

As Juan and Katie were talking,the girl with straight hair looked jealously towards them.

She turned around and started whispering to Maria.

“You didn’t tell me your brother was so cute!” exclaimed the girl with straight hair.

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Lieveke Bax “Jessica! You think everyone is cute,” said Maria rolling her eyes.

“Is he single?” Jessica asked.

“Yes, but don’t you dare….” Maria started.

“So, Juan,how’s business in Chile?” asked Jessica,ignoring Maria.

“Well,it’s great,” Juan said as he began to grab me, pulling of the lock off my prison. I breathed the fresh air. I could finally breathe. It tasted amazing. I was turned upside down as I was poured down like a waterfall in another glass. As my body was getting separated from glass to glass,I could see the faces of the giants looking at me hungrily. “The only problem is that I can’t get enough money for food because of how much money I make.

Because of this,our mom passed away a year ago when Maria was still living in Chile. The only food we ate was the grapes that I stole from my farm. It was all my fault that mom died, if only I got more money from work,she still would have been alive,” Juan continued,looking off into a faraway land, a salty water droplet slowly drooping down from his eye.

“Oh Juan, it isn’t your fault,” said Maria as a salty water droplet fell from her eye. She looked at his wine and commented, “Here,have some more wine, Juan.”

“It is my fault though,” he cried as Maria poured him some wine, “If only I got more money for my wine, she still would have been alive!”

“Hey, Juan I know that I don’t really know your mom, but she probably wouldn’t want you to be so sad,” Jessica said, grabbing him by the shoulder.

“Have you ever thought of joining the fair trade wine industry?” asked Katie pouring more of my body out of my glass prison. Parts of my body were getting ripped apart. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe this wasn’t better than my prison.

“No, I haven’t,” Juan answered as he was turning pale.

“Juan,are you okay?” Maria asked noticing his pale face.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just feeling a bit dizzy,that’s it,” Juan said coughing loudly.

“Juan, let’s go to the hospital,” Maria said looking at his pale face.

As Jessica was pouring me into the glass, I could hear their cries, “CALL 911” or “JUAN STAY WITH US” or Maria saying,“I CAN’T LOSE YOU TOO!!” but, most of all,I could hear the coughing of Juan's voice.

As the last bit of my body was being poured into a glass, I could hear Juan coughing.

Then,it stopped. Juan took his last breath and Maria cried out loud, “NO!!!!!”.

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Fair & Unfair By: Romi B.

It was International Coffee Day, everyone”s favourite time of the year. “People were running to the grocery store so quickly so they could get the new “Vanilla Caramel Chocolate Explosion”. Right next to that coffee was the exact same type, but this brand was fair trade. The fair trade coffee was just about two dollars more.

Obviously, everyone picked the cheaper one, except for one woman named Lisa. Lisa has been researching where all of her favourite products come from. Before Lisa picked up the Fair Trade Coffee, she heard a little squeaking voice saying, “I’m so much better than the non fair trade coffee! Good job Lisa. Oh, and by the way my friends call me Fair.”

“And, I’m not fair trade but my friends call me Unfair, plus I’m two dollars cheaper,” said Unfair, the other coffee. Lisa started sprinting as fast as she could. I mean, wouldn’t you run like a maniac if you saw two coffee bags having an argument?

The two coffee bags continued with their argument even though Lisa left. “Are you kidding me. How many people have bought me today, and how many people have bought you?” said Fair.

“Well…,” sighed UnFair. ” Exactly!” said Fair.

“But I’m so much better for the world and I taste the exact same.I know that I’m 2 dollars more, but I help coffee farmers eat, get healthcare and send their children to school.” “‘Do you do this, do you help the coffee farmers?” . ”Well no but I have a stronger taste.”

“You wanna do a test?” said Fair. “Sure!”, said Unfair. They both hopped to the washroom sink. Fair poured steaming hot water, in a plastic pink cup with tiny butterflies flying around the part where you place your lips. They put these two cups on the

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Romi Bogdan

workers desks. One of the desks had Fair’s coffee and the other had Unfair’s coffee. They just watched them slowly drinking the pink plastic cup. If the human throws out the Fair trade coffee then the Unfair trade coffee is better.

As the workers took a sip,you could see it going down their throat so slowly, it's like they could taste every ingredient in there. It was almost like a movie as the worker slowly threw out the Unfair coffee and the other worker continued sipping Fair’s coffee. As the two coffee bags looked at each other, they knew that the Fair coffee had won. “Am I really that bad?” UnFair thought to itself.

“Listen, you are not that good for the world, but you still taste almost the same as me.”

“So, what are you saying?”

“You have been so mean to me, but I’m not mean like you.”

“But I’m so bad for the world.”

“Then leave and never come back because you are bad for the world.We don’t need you here.”

“You’re right Fair. I’m gonna take my coffee family, swim through the large water puddles, and the annoying sound of rain when it goes drip drop drip drop.”

“Come on guys.Llet’s go leave this town and live with our new friend Water.”

“I don’t want you guys to get hurt, I just want more of you to be fair trade.”

“So, where can we go?”

“You can go to the local convenience store. It’s called ‘Ramen To Go’”.

“I have been there before. You don’t get a lot of homes. But, once you have learned your lesson that you are bad for the world, you can come and visit us fair trade coffee. I forgot to mention, sometimes when you're being shipped, you get dropped on the streets. Its happened to my friend Dukin before.” ”Even though I’m not fair trade, I don’t think I belong on the streets.” said Unfair sadly.

The Fair coffee started to seem mean and unfair got scared. Unfair finally started to realize how mean it used to be, but Fair was never actually mean.It was just playing a trick to show how Unfair acts.

Fair said, “So, you don’t want to live on the streets? Huh?”

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Romi Bogdan “No, I don’t and you can’t make me!” ”Well, you’re right about that. But I’m not the only one that wants you gone.”

”What do you mean?” said unfair. ”Come on Fair family let’s show this loser who is boss.”

As Fair grew bigger, it reminded Unfair of the Hulk movie, Hulk slowly got bigger and his shirt ripping in slow mo. But, this was only Unfair’s imagination.I mean, a coffee bag can’t grow and usually can’t talk. Fair, the coffee family, all stood together as one and said .“Leave us!!!!”. ”Do you guys really hate me that much?”

“Listen I understand you are sad now but lets do what best for the world”.

Unfair started to shiver as its whole family started walking out bit by bit, dropping a dime amount of their unfair coffee. The hope was that Fair would scream, “ come back we will figure it out!” As they were about to take their last step going into the world and leave the grocery store, Unfair gave a look to Fair with the littlest tear drop. Fair slowly turned away and tried to organize all the coffee bags that are fair. All that Unfair could think was, “this is my life and I’m not needed.” As this thought went through its head Unfair just leaves without saying goodbye to its family. The whole family looks to each other in fear, Unfair always guided them for everything. But, maybe that’s why Unfair left.

Maybe he wanted his own life without his family. This thought will always be remembered as the ‘Unfair thought’.

After 6 year old Emma woke up from her dream she was much too excited to tell her mom about fair trade coffee.

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Laila and I By: Cleo Bushell As I pulled the two ends of the ribbon, my excitement grew. What was in the box?

Is it what I want? I opened the present and screamed with excitement as I saw my new Pro Racer 180 Car. I thanked my parents and raced outside to play. I smelled the fresh air of Chiapas, as the wind blew the fiery red sand into my big, brown eyes. But, that didn’t stop me. I played with my new toy until dusk when I came in for cake. As I entered the house, the scent of chocolate filled the room.

Happy Birthday to You Happy Birthday to You Happy Birthday Dear Santiago, Happy birthday to you.

From good friends and true, From old friends and new, May good luck go with you, And happiness too, Happy 5th Birthday!

I took my first bite and felt the chocolate melting into my mouth. I savoured it . Then, I devoured my piece, with chocolate icing smeared all over my face. Suddenly it came to me, the question that changed my life. For days and days I thought about it and I just couldn't hold it in.

“Dad, what makes the cake taste so good,” I bursted out.

“It’s the sugar from the farm I own, my dear boy. That reminds me. Tomorrow I am going to check up on the harvesting at the farm,” replied my father.

“Can I come?” I begged.

“No, you can’t, you’re too young,” my dad firmly answered.

But I had to, I just had to go.

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Cleo Bushell The next morning, I woke to my father’s truck engine roar. I leaped out of bed. I had no time to lose. I had slept in. I ran down the stairs almost tripping over Cannella, my cat. I grabbed a tortilla and an apple and ran towards the truck. Just as he started to pull out of our driveway, I jumped into the back of the truck.

About 5 minutes passed of driving on bumpy roads knocking my head back, forward, left, and right when I realized I was still in my red, button up pajamas. But, it was too late. I couldn’t go back now. Around 20 minutes later, houses started to appear and then a whole village! A village made up of the smallest houses. Most of them were the size of my bedroom. They were made out of garbage, plastic, and some were even made of mud! It seemed like they made their houses out of anything they could find.

The car jerked forward when my dad hit the breaks. I watched him exit the scratched up, blue car. I waited until he was further away. Then, I got up. It was incredible! For as far as I could see there was some long, tall stick like things that looked as if they were reaching up to the sky. I stared at them for maybe ten minutes. I had that feeling. That feeling deep inside that somebody was watching me. I looked around. Nothing. I looked again. And, that was when I saw her. That was when I first met Laila. She was standing against a house shivering with fear. She was very thin. I saw her watching me and my apple. She must have been very hungry. “Would you like my apple? I don’t need it,” I said.

I held it out in my hand slowly walking towards her. She eventually took it and ate the apple. “Hello, my name is Santiago. What’s yours?” I asked her.

“I’m Laila,” she quietly replied. That was the beginning of our friendship. From that day on, whenever I could visit Laila, I would. We could play for hours on end not getting bored because we were together, Laila and I. When I was seven, I started to bring books and paper to teach Laila how to read and write because she didn’t learn this in school.

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Cleo Bushell One day, I biked over to the farm with a brand new book for Laila. When I arrived, I went straight to Laila’s house filled with excitement. When I looked inside, she wasn’t there. “Laila, where are you?” I sang. She must have been hiding. No reply, which was strange. I ran to the sugarcane fields as she sometimes went there. I searched for what seemed like forever, but I couldn’t find her anywhere. “Laila!” I screamed. I fell on the ground with tears filling my brown eyes. I cried for maybe twenty minutes until I was too exhausted for tears. I looked up and noticed I fell on part of a sugarcane plant. It looked crushed, its head bent down and full of sorrow. Just like me. I lay there, just me and the sugarcane plant, both depressed.

“Ah! Santiago, why are you here?” Laila said with a machete in her hand.

“Why are you here? Wait, please tell me you're not working. No, no it can’t be.”

“I have to Santiago,” a tear dripped down her cheek.

“But, Laila what about school?” I exclaimed.

“I don’t go to school. I never did. I am sorry I lied,” she cried.

“You should've told me. I would have helped you...” I had no clue what was actually going on the whole time. They were hungry because they couldn’t afford food. She couldn’t read because she didn’t go to school. No one went to school there. She had to work so she her family could eat.

“No Santiago, you couldn’t,” she said.

“WORKER come over here to help!” a man shouted from afar.

“I’ve gotta go. Bye, Santiago. You’ve been ever so kind,” she said, as if this was farewell. But, it wasn’t. It couldn’t be. I wouldn’t let her and her village be treated this way.

My watch read 5;20. I rushed to the entrance and grabbed my bike. I was supposed to be home at 5:00. The earliest I could be home would be 5:50. I had no to time to lose.

20

Cleo Bushell

When I arrived home, my mom was in a fit. “Mom, I am home,” I said, scared to death of my punishments.

“Santiago, I am so glad you’re alive! Why are you so late? Where were you? You had me so worried.” She made a whole speech about never being late and communicating when you would be late. Go to your room,” she ordered. I ran up to my room and researched something called fair trade where workers and farmers get paid fair prices, and have access to health care and education. Finally, I was ready to talk to my dad. I went to the office where I found my dad furiously typing on his laptop. I explained everything that happened, Laila’s story and all about fair trade. I begged him to become fair trade and he said he would think about it. After three days, we made a deal. I would always tell him when I am visiting, and he would make his company fair trade.

From that day on, Laila and I went to school together everyday. And, that is how I met your mother, boys.

21

A Small Difference By: Devin Driesman “Hey! Keep a move on over there. We’ve work to do. Jorge said to bring 10 pounds of cotton into town TONIGHT BY 12! It’s almost 10 and we only have eight pounds HURRY UP,” screamed Marco. “We’ve been out here for 7 hours straight. Give us a break already,” says Sandiago, exhaustingly.

One and a half hours later “Okay, we have it all, now let’s head back into town,” says Marco.

“When are we going to get paid?” says Sandiago.

“Later everyone get in the truck, we need to go,” Says Marco anxiously!

Marco, Sandiago, and Sandiago’s friends all head off to town in Marco’s cobalt pickup truck, hitting bumps along the way. The big truck twists and turns, dodging rocks and trees in the rush against time. In all the commotion, one of the sacks of cotton rips so much that there is only a little tear, but it was just enough for a little ball of of cotton to slip out without anyone noticing.

The big truck halts to a stop and Marco quietly says, “We’re here.”

All the workers get out of the truck “Wait a minute this isn’t our stop,” says Sandiago’s friend.

“I know this is where we meet the buyer to drop off the cotton,” says Marco.

A couple minutes later “Hello Marco, it’s been awhile since I last came here,” says Jorge.

“Yes, yes it has,” said Marco.

“Can we go home now?” says Sandiago and his friends.

“No, why don’t you guys introduce yourselves,” says Marco.

As they were told, the young boys all kindly introduced themselves one, by one (even though they were all mad and sad about the time.)

Before I forget, I should probably tell you all the boys’ names. There is Sandiago, Perdis, Garbona, Eareal, and Phantee.

22

Devin Driesman “It is very nice meeting all of you. Now I will take the cotton and let you go home,” says Jorge.

“Wait, can I come with you?” says Sandiago.

“But, why,” says Eareal.

“Because I want to try to start a new life somewhere else,” says Sandiago.

“Well if you want to I guess it’s alright with us,” says Garbona.

“But the that’s not the problem. The problem is, whether or not it's alright with Jorge,” says Perdis.

“It’s alright with me,” says Jorge.

Marco pays Sandiago and his friends. Sandiago goes to get the stuff that he wants to head off with him, and they start off driving in Jorge’s lightning yellow Hummer h3. They start off in Guntur, India, now on their way to Ahmadabad. Along the way, Sandiago asks a lot of questions about the world and what it’s like everywhere else. Not long after, they arrive at the Ahmadabad airport. Jorge and Sandiago go through all of the checks in services and wait at their boarding area.

“Why does the bag check in services take so long and why is it so boring,” exclaims Sandiago.

“That’s something I have always wondered,” says Jorge.

Sandiago and Jorge board the YKPAiHA airline to Pakistan. After 1½ hours they both fall asleep.

1 hour later “Wake up! We’re here,” says Jorge.

Jorge and Sandiago rent a car and drive to Sialkot. When they arrive, they drop off the cotton and Sandiago leaves the truck.

“Hello,” says one of the people that live in Sialkot. “Hello, where do you work?” Asks Sandiago. “I work for a fair trade soccer ball company named Senda,” said the man. “Come with me I will show you,” says the man.

The man takes Sandiago to go see where he works. When they get there, Sanadiago seems very surprised, almost amazed by the sight because he would think that if the man worked for a fair trade company,he would have lived and worked in better conditions. As Sandiago quickly scans the place, he sees many little cracks and leaks.

“I thought you said that you work for a fair trade company,” says Sandiago.

“I do,” says the man.

“But then why are you still living in these conditions,” says Sandiago.

“Just because I work for a fair trade company it doesn't mean that I have tons of money. Just means that I can make a little bit more money,” says the man.

23

Devin Driesman After a little bit of time Sandiago decides to go into town to look at everyone else's current living conditions.

Half an Hour Later “Wow I would never have expected to see so many people in such poor conditions,” says Sandiago.

“I’m very fortunate in my condition because even just that little bit extra money that I make helps me just put something else on my plate other than rice or beans,” says the man.

Sandiago helps the man sew and stitch all of the soccer balls together and actually ends up living and working with him for the rest of his life.

24

The Cocoa Pod and the Child By: Vitaliy Feoktistov The cocoa pod, Charlie, stretched as he started to wake up and saw the green trees surround him in a array of leaves. It was in the middle of a beautiful summer day.

“What

a beautiful day! I hope no one will find I like it here,” said the cocoa pod.

Two hours later...

“I better find some food, I’m starving,” said the cocoa pod. As he was looking he remembered of a strawberry bush he saw earlier he went looking for it. ”There! I found!” The next day...

Charlie thought to himself, I hope nobody finds me today. Probably no one will because it looks like it will rain! Also, when it rains, I grow! said The cocoa pod with huge excitement. After a while, the cocoa pod said, “Finally, the rain has stopped.

Wow! I have grown a lot. I should go to bed.”

Day 3 Charlie looked in the distance and saw something... someone. There were children far in the distance in the farm that were being forced to spread the cocoa seeds on the huge, light brown squares that have edges that point up so the cocoa seeds don’t fall out. Then, Charlie looked a bit further and saw one boy that was being kicked and being laughed at by the guards and Charlie felt tears in his eyes because he couldn’t even imagine his kid treated like that.

25

Vitaliy F. “Oh my God! These people have no right to treat kids like that. I need to do something about this. I can’t just let them do this to the poor children.” So, Charlie started to think about something. After a while, he came up with a great idea but a very dangerous idea. Next, he started to plan how he was going to free the child.

“I, first, want to wait until night time. Then, I need to sneak inside the building where the child (I will call him the target) sleeps. After that, I need to wake him up and the child is not going to believe his own eyes. I have to make him believe and trust me.

Once he believes me, I need to tell him that he must run away from this place and that I will help him.” That was Charlie’s plan.

At midnight, Charlie started to pack up for his little mission. Once he was ready, he looked out from the bush and saw the men standing guard. They were armed with guns. Then, Charlie realised that his plan would be more dangerous than he thought.

As he started to come down, he started to sweat,but he was determined to free the child or maybe the children.

“Okay, I should probably distract them by making sounds here, but I will do this by… there, I will scare the birds.” As he scared the birds, they made very loud noises. The guards thought that they saw someone and they started to head the direction the Charlie was in. Once Charlie saw the guards, he started to run as fast as he could to the doorway.He made it without being noticed. The was proud of himself, but right when he smiled, he saw another guard guarding the entrance to the bedroom. This time there was nothing to make noises with so he had to do it the dangerous way. He had to sneak in really quietly. He tried to take a small step - nothing. So then, he went inside the room super slow and super quiet. He made it.

26

Vitaliy F. After he came inside the room, he tried to find the child, but he didn’t see the the one he was looking for. Charlie saw one bed that was empty and he knew that they were doing something bad. He went outside again super slow and super quiet. After he went outside, he stood there with an open mouth. Charlie’s face started to get really red. He saw how bad the people were, they still made the kid work.

“They make the kid do so much work that he can’t even rest,” said Charlie. “I can’t even do anything about it. I guess I will have to wait awhile for them to sto.”

About ten minutes later...

“Finally, they have finished. Ishould probably hide somewhere so they don’t step on me,” said Charlie. As they walked in the room, Charlie followed them. The kid laid down on the bed heavily. The guard walked outside, as the child started to go to sleep. Charlie walked up to him and started to shake him. The kid started to open his eyes slowly. Once he saw Charlie,he thought that it was a dream, but it wasn’t. Charlie wanted to talk to that boy.

“Hello, I am Charlie. I saw what they were doing with you felt bad for you so what I recommend for you to do is run because you know what there is a way better life out there. For example, in Ukraine it is a very beautiful country. Also, in Germany it is the same. You can get a new rich family in both countries that will feed you and you can go to school,” said Charlie, but the kid was staring at Charlie as if he didn’t understand.

The Charlie said, “What? You don’t understand? Okay,let me explain in your language.” So, Charlie went on and told him. After Charlie told the kid, he understood what Charlie was talking about.

“Also,what is your name?” said Charlie.

“My name is Domonic,” Domonic answered shyly “That is a nice name,”said Charlie “How about we go and run away from this place?”

27

Vitaliy F. “Okay, but what about my friends can they come?” said Domonic.

“Yes, they can come but first, I need to make sure that you get there safe and then I can bring them to your family,” said Charlie.

“Okay,” said Domonic. They went on and ran away.

Three more days later…

“We have almost arrived in Ukraine”said Charlie.

One hour later “ Finally, we found the the family we were looking for. Have fun, Domonic,” said Charlie.

“Thank you so much,” said Domonic.

After he came inside the room, he tried to find the child, but he didn’t see the the one he was looking for. Charlie saw one bed that was empty and he knew that they were doing something bad. He went outside again super slow and super quiet. After he went outside, he stood there with an open mouth. Charlie’s face started to get really red. He saw how bad the people were, they still made the kid work.

“They make the kid do so much work that he can’t even rest,” said Charlie. “I can’t even do anything about it. I guess I will have to wait awhile for them to sto.”

About ten minutes later...

“Finally, they have finished. I should probably hide somewhere so they don’t step on me,” said Charlie. As they walked in the room, Charlie followed them. The kid laid down on the bed heavily. The guard walked outside, as the child started to go to sleep. Charlie walked up to him and started to shake him. The kid started to open his eyes slowly. Once he saw Charlie,he thought that it was a dream, but it wasn’t. Charlie wanted to talk to that boy.

“Hello, I am Charlie. I saw what they were doing with you felt bad for you so what I recommend for you to do is run because you know what there is a way better life out there.

28

Chocolate : A Story By: Cole Franklin In the Megamart, on Eglinton Avenue in Toronto, a new batch of chocolate bars was being laid out on the shelves. Two chocolate bars, one Kat-Kat and one Crisp-Crisp, were placed next to each other. They were on a large shelf with many other chocolate bars. Many customers were in the chocolate aisle looking at the chocolate bars deciding which to buy. A couple of minutes later, the Kat-Kat jubilantly said to the Crisp-Crisp, “Hi, I’m Kat-Kat. Who are you?”

Crisp-Crisp replied nervously, “I’m Crisp-Crisp.”

Kat-Kat looked content with this and after an hour or so he asked, “How did you get here CrispCrisp? I would like to exchange stories to pass the time.”

Crisp-Crisp soon replied tensely, “Yes, I would like that.”

Relaxedly, Kat-Kat started telling the story by saying, “So, I guess it started on the day of the harvest. There was a lot of bumping. My entire family was confused, in panic, terrified. We were being chucked around. Then, our pod was cut open and we were emptied into a wooden container.

I was very excited to see light for the first time.

The world was vibrant colours, blue and green. The workers looked tired but glad. And you?”

“I was scared.”

“Okay I guess so we sat there for…” Kat-Kat then proceeded to rub on his chocolatey head in thought, “... just about six days. We were then brought to an area where we were dried for awhile.”

Then, sounding unsure, “Not sure how long. We were then put into sacks and shipped up to the U. S.A. Our farmer looked simply ecstatic when a man gave him money as we left.”

Crisp-Crisp then interrupted saying, “My farmer did not look that excited when we left.”

“There, all of us were roasted in ovens. Were you?”

“Yes I was roasted too. Also, why are you so relaxed.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because we are going to be eaten!!!!!!”

Then, in shock, Kat-Kat said, “We are???????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“Yes we are.”

“Guess we'll just have to be cheerful until then.”

“Ok,” Crisp-Crisp said neutrally.

29

Cole Franklin

“Kat-Kat continued by saying, “So umm oh yes. Next, we were grinded up and then they put on a fan. It happened to you and it hurt right?”

“Yes, it also happened to me and it hurt me too.”

“So we were then pushed around with stone rollers and that hurt too right?”

“Yes.” “After that I felt creamy and they moved me to a place where they threw sugar and milk at me. Then after a few days they made us really hot for a while and poured me into some kind of mould next thing I knew I was here.”

“Same for me.”

“Hmmm. Crisp-Crisp let’s think about the difference in our journeys”. He then proceeded to think about his story and said, “How did the people that harvested you look like? The people that harvested me had clean clothes other than a bit of dirt and they looked glad or maybe…. empowered. What did yours look like?”

“They looked malnourished, dirty, their clothes looked ripped and like they were half mud and dirt, and they looked beaten down emotionally.”

“Thats weird and why did your farmer not look that excited when you left”. They then proceed to think for a couple of minutes. Then Kat-Kat exclaimed, “My farmer said something about fair trade and lots of money!”

“My farmer did not get much money when we left and he said nothing of fair trade. Hey let us look at our wrappers.” They then looked at their wrappers and Crisp-Crisp said, “Yours says fair trade on it mine does not.”

“That must be the difference. How can we help your farmer become fair trade and be happier?”

“We could…… send a letter to him.”

“Yeah let’s send a letter,” Kat-Kat exclaimed. They waited until the store closed, then they found paper and a pen they then wrote, with their crunchy hands, in his native language “Go to a fair trade union in your area you will be more satisfied and you will get more money. Love Crisp-Crisp and Kat-Kat.” They found a stamp, put it on the letter, and repeatedly tried to throw the letter into the mailbox until it got into the box, and then went back to their boxes. Shortly after they returned to their boxes Crisp-Crisp said, “I feel content knowing that my farmer will be joyous when he becomes fair trade.”

“Yeah me too.”

30

The Little Tea Bag That Could By: Jordie Hausman The little tea bag sat on a rock, breathing his last breaths of warm Kenyan air. Everyone who helped to make him into a tea bag was there to send him off.

“Bye,” said a worker.

“Have fun,” said another.

“Stay safe,” shouted all the workers on the farm. The little tea bag was leaving the farm and getting ready to go on a long journey across the deep, dark, rough sea, all alone. Just when the tea bag was about to hop on the boat, the youngest worker on the farm came up to him. He couldn’t have been more than 5 years old, with legs like sticks, old tattered clothes, and skin burned to a crisp. He came up to the tea bag and gave him a big hug and whispered in the tea bag’s ear, ”Help us”.

Once the tea bag was on the boat, all he could think about was the little boy. As he stared at the everlasting water, all he could see and hear was the little boy. He thought about what he would need help with. What was wrong? When the tea bag hopped off the boat, it was like he had entered a different dimension. There were cars rumbling, people walking in the nicest clothes he had ever seen, food and water everywhere, and a jungle made of bricks and glass. This wonderful world was called New York City. The tea bag just wanted to scoop up all the workers on the farm and plop them down here in the street and give them each a cup of water and some food.

The little tea bag was put on a shelf next to dozens of other kinds of teas. From where the little tea bag sat in the store, he could see and hear carts clanging, babies crying in little baskets made of metal, and children saying, “Mommy, mommy! I want cookies!”

Their mother would say,”No sweetie, it’s not healthy.” Those little kids did not know how good they have it. Long hair draping down their backs, oversized bellies taunting those children in hunger. They complain about school when some kids don’t even get to go. All the toys they ever wanted are right at their fingertips. How unfair!!

31

Jordan Hausman

All the teas on the shelf were dressed in bright colours and cloaked with a plastic shield to keep them from harm’s way, well, that is until they would be made and drunk by some old English guy. He spoke to one of the other teas on the shelf about where he had come from. “I came from a farm in Kenya, where little boys work the fields all night, and the big boss claims to provide the workers with education, food, and water. The wages aren’t enough to survive, but it was my home,” said the little tea bag.

“Well, I come from a farm in Honduras, where adult workers only work 6 hours a day and children work after school, where we have access to all the food, water, and education that we need for our families . We also have a fair wages. We have enough money to live, and we also have health care,” exclaimed one of the other teas. The tea bag had finally understood why that little boy needed help. He had no education, not enough food, not enough water, not enough money, and I am sure that they do not even know what health care is. All the tea bag wanted to do was to go back home and talk to the big boss about what he could be doing to help the workers.

The little tea bag was able to sneak onto a boat that was on its way to Kenya. He sat there thinking about what the farm would look like if it was fair trade, water trickling from faucets, clean fresh clothing, healthier people, and most of all smiles on faces not frowns of agony. Just smiles of happiness and wellness. The little tea bag just wanted to jump off that boat and give that little boy a big, fat hug and say, “I will help you, I will make you feel safe, I will help you get an education, you will thrive and succeed in anything you do.”

When he arrived, The little tea bag hopped onto the sand remembering the fresh air he had loved so much before he was shipped off to New York City. The first thing he had noticed was a little boy sluggishly moving across the sand with a bag of freshly picked tea on his head. The little boy was the one who needed help. The little tea bag ran up to him and put his arm around the little boy, and squeezed him and said, “I will help you, I will make you feel safe, I will help you get an education, you will thrive and succeed in anything you do. I promise.”

32

Fair Cotton By: Lucie H.

Day 1: Hello, my name is Cotton. I am a small cotton plant that sits in the warm soil of a cotton farm in Bangladesh. I haven’t been picked yet, but I’m confident I will be picked soon. Everyday, I wait to be picked by one of the cotton farmers that work here. Since I don’t have much to do besides sit and enjoy the sun, I just watch the cotton farmers at work. Watching the farmers makes me happy, but what doesn’t is watching the farmers being depressed all day long. This makes me feel like I have been eaten inside. I really want to help them. I see them walking into the boss’ office often and I can barely hear what they are talking about. I can hear them arguing about getting raises because they don’t get paid enough. Another thing I see everyday are children working on the farm for the same amount of time as the adult farmers. One thing I know for sure is that the children should be in school. The children look like they are missing something. I’m guessing they are upset because they might not get to go to school. The one thing I really want, more than being picked, is to see the workers be happy on the farm. I believe that everyone should be treated fairly. If I’m not going to be picked soon, I would like to see good things happening on this farm.

Day 2: Today I have the chance to make a difference. I may be small, but I have lots of ideas to help the farmers. Today, I am planning on trying to get their attention in a way that won’t attract their boss.

I have a few ideas that I’ll experiment with. Today, I will throw handfuls of dirt near me onto their feet.

Hopefully, this will get their attention but not anger them as well. I see someone coming! As I am tossing little clumps of dirt onto one of the farmers’ feet, all he did was dust it all off and walk away, anxiously.

Day 3: Ok, today I am going to try and use my voice to grab the farmers’ attention. 1… 2… 3…

“Hellooooooo!?” This plan didn’t quite work. Instead of looking down, the farmer just looked around the farm, but didn’t quite see anything. Since I am small, I am guessing that all he heard was a faint squeak. One other thing I saw him do was tell the other farmers that the farm might have rats. Oops.

Day 4: Alright, third time’s a charm. Today’s plan should work. Today I am going to try and tickle the children’s feet. I will use the children to get the farmers over here.

33

Lucie Hunter As they walk right in front of me, I start tickling their feet. I notice that the children are starting to giggle and laugh as they are looking for me. First, they’re looking at the other farmers. Next, they look down. Finally, they see me waving my arms violently in the air. I can tell the children are kind of shocked, but they didn’t run. They didn’t scream or shout. They just knelt down and started talking to me.

Child #1 (Charlie): “Hi, little cotton plant. My name is Charlie.”

Child #2 (Alex): “Hey, I’m Alex. Can you speak?”

Me: “Yes I can.”

Charlie: “Wow, this is so cool. Why do you need to talk to us?”

Me: “Well, I’m noticing things that are happening in this farm that shouldn’t happen.”

Alex: “Like what?”

Me: “Well, for example, where did you two come from?”

I see Charlie and Alex looking at each other confused.

Charlie: “We both got pulled out of school to work on this farm because we have to make money to pay for our education and the food on our table.”

Alex: “Charlie and I thought this job would be fun, but it’s like we’re slaves.”

Charlie: “I just wish we could go to school some more.”

Me: “What do you mean?”

Charlie: “Since we got this job, we only get to go to school around 2-3 days a week.”

Me: “This is one of the problems happening on the farm. You two should be in school.”

Alex: “I also wished we got paid more than 25 cents a day.”

Me: “This farm should be paying the children more than 25 cents a day. Charlie? Alex?”

Charlie and Alex: “Yeah?”

Me: “Can you get the other farmers over here so we can discuss getting you all a raise?”

Charlie: “Sure, but I don’t think the farmers will come if we tell them one of the cotton plants in the field needs to talk to them.”

Alex: “They also might think we are tricking them.”

Me: “Just tell them it is very important.”

As the children run towards the two farmers, I just relax in the nice, warm soil.

A couple minutes later: I saw the children and farmers coming toward me. I can tell that the farmers aren’t in the mood to talk. Both farmers have grimaces on their face like they just got a tub of water dumped on their heads.

34

Lucie Hunter Farmer #1 (Bill): “What did you drag us here for? What kind of nonsense got into your little heads this time?”

Alex: “That little cotton plant over there wants to talk to you.”

I can tell the other farmers don’t understand what is happening, so I wave my stems in the air so I can get their attention. As I am doing this, the farmers are getting curious. Then, they walk over and look down right at me.

Farmer Bill: “What is this little thing doing?”

Farmer Max: “It looks like it is dancing.”

Me: “Hello.”

Farmer Bill and Farmer Max: “Ahh! It can talk!”

Me: “I need to talk to you about something important!”

Farmer Bill: “Well, Farmer Max, looks like we’ve been in the sun for a little too long. Let’s go and take a break.”

Alex: “NO! You can’t!”

Farmer Max: “And why is that, little boy?”

Alex: “Don’t you two remember how much you need the money to help your families? This little cotton plant just might be able to help us. All of us.”

Farmer Bill: “So, what do you want us to do?”

I had a plan, but it would have to wait till tomorrow. It’s already starting to get dark.

Day 5: Farmer Bill and Farmer Max: “WAKE UP!” Me: “What?”

Farmer Bill: “We’re all ready to hear your plan.”

As I look around, I can see that every farmer I saw yesterday was in front of me ready for my plan.

Charlie: “Good morning, little cotton plant. Can you tell us the plan now?”

Me: “Oh, sure. (yawn) So first…”

A few minutes later: Me: “Alright. Do you all understand the plan?”

The workers: “Yup!!!”

Right now, the most important thing is sneaking past the boss so he doesn’t suspect a thing. Then, we have to lure the boss outside of his office and climb in. Right now, I can see that the boss is just drinking his coffee and looking outside at us.

35

Lucie Hunter Me: “Bill? Do you think you can make life sized sculptures of all of us with whatever materials you can find?”

Farmer Bill: “Sure. Just give me a few minutes.”

Me: “Great. Alex? Can you create a distraction so that we can lure the boss outside?”

Alex: “Sure. I’m great at this kind of stuff.”

Me: “Max! I need you to steal the keys to get into the office, but try not to be seen.”

Max: “Sure.”

Charlie:” What can I do?”

Me: “You can be a superviser. Just see how everyone is doing and report back to me.”

Charlie: “Yes, Sir!” Charlie salutes and runs off.

I just hope this plan goes well. From my perspective, it looks like everyone is doing their jobs.

Charlie: “Cotton! Cotton! Everybody is doing well, except for Alex. He is having trouble distracting the boss.”

Me: “You should go and help him.”

As I see Charlie running to go help his friend, I think about what would happen when we succeed.

More minutes later: Right now, it looks like everyone is finished doing their part, except for the two boys distracting the boss.

Farmer Bill: “Little cotton plant thingy! I have finished making life sized replicas of us.”

Farmer Max: “THE BOSS IS COMING! IT’S TIME!” Me: “Ok, get ready to grab the keys.”

As I see the boss coming outside, all of us hide behind the door, except for me. I can see Charlie and Alex talking to the boss and he looks like his head is ready to explode. The funny part about right now is how Farmer Max already grabbed the keys and is already working on the lock. Now I’m confused. Farmer Bill is coming towards me with a flower pot. He just walks towards me casually and scoops me up nice and carefully then puts me into the flower pot. Then, he carries me over to where the others are. As we all hid, Farmer Max is still working at the lock until, finally, the door unlocks. We all run in and shut the door behind us.

36

Lucie Hunter Boss (Bob): “HEY! These are hay bales. Where are my workers?!”

Me: “Alright everyone. Now get his attention.”

Everyone is waving their hands in the air and, finally, the boss notices.

Bob: “WHAT ARE YOU ALL DOING IN THERE?! GET OUT OF MY OFFICE!” Farmer Bill: “Not until you give us all a raise. At least more than 25 cents!”

Bob: “So, you want raises this bad, huh?”

All: “YES!” Bob: “I’m about to make an offer. How about you let me into my office and I’ll give you a raise?”

Alex: “How can we trust you?”

Bob: “You don’t have to know, you just have to do it.”

Charlie: “We still don’t trust you.”

Bob: “Fine. Don’t come out but whatever you do, don’t touch my precious money!”

Charlie: “We won’t if you give us a raise!”

Bob: “Fine! You all now are getting paid $20 a week. Happy now?”

All: “Yay!” A few months later: Now, everyone who works on the farm are happy. They all have money to feed their families and the children get to go to school where they belong. They also work part time at the farm instead of all the time.

37

The Coffee Bean’s Journey by: Madeline Lee Watching young children harvest beans for chocolate everyday is not like watching a TV show or a fun movie. As a bean, I hang on a tree that is as tall as a huge building scraping the sky, the branches reaching up high as to grab the stars. From up high,I can see children working. Their heads are down as they watch the trail of an ant, they sigh every second as they carry massive and heavy bags on their broad shoulders. In these bags you can find my family. Some of these children are young and they work very hard everyday to get paid a cent or two. They don’t want to do this, they are just forced to. Some are trafficked, some are here to get money for their family, and their stories are not enjoyable to hear. They don’t get clean water to drink, they don’t get healthy food, they don’t get clean clothes or breaks while working and they have no place to sleep nor do they have a school to get educated. Keeping children as workers are against the law, but there is no way for children to earn money to live. I’ve been hanging on this plant since June and it’s time for me to get harvested. I’ve always thought about a better life for children, drinking clean water, eating healthy food, clean clothes, schools to get educated, and a fair price for their cocoa. Nowadays children are forced to work and the workers are making them work. For one last time, I could see children harvesting beans before I got into a yellowish-brown sack where I got smushed at the bottom. Through the hole I could see that I was on a green truck that took us to a factory that turns us into chocolate. I didn’t know how many hours had passed as the truck screeched and stopped. I got thrown into the air through the hole as I landed in a truck that smelled like something I’ve never smelled before. When I read the label, it said “Fair Trade Coffee.” I knew what coffee was, but I didn’t know what coffee smelled like or what fair trade meant. Not to be seen, I slipped into one of the sacks. The coffee bean stared at me as it thought I was unpleasant. I looked back and the bean looked very similar to me, even though, I suppose, I’ve never seen my reflection before. When the truck stopped,I could hear the laughter of people as they carried us into the farm. I was startled because I thought I would get turned into coffee, not chocolate after all. I looked closely out the hole and saw a farmer getting paid a fair price for their coffee. I winced to see what was going on, but he wasn’t the only one who was getting the fair price, it was a whole group of workers and farmers.

Next to the farm was a small building where children who work go in and go out. I figured that it might be a school where they get an education.

38

Madeline Lee When I read the badge all the farmers had, it was called “Fair Trade Association.” I wanted the cocoa workers from my farm to look like these coffee farmers. That was it! I could go back and tell the children to join the same association or move to a place where they could get a fair price for their work. But.. how? So, I just went back on the truck that I was thrown on. As I was imagining a better life for children, the truck began to go to the same road as I came and it stopped in the the same spot where I got thrown in. Without a doubt, I got thrown again I didn’t dare to say a word or scream because the driver was going to notice. I landed on green truck, head first, that smelled like chocolate. An hour felt like a second, as I arrived, I rolled off the truck, I went up to my family and told them what happened. They said I should go up to a child and tell them about “Fair Trade.” I looked up and even though she was a child, she was about 10,000 times bigger than me. I suppose it would be like going up Mount Everest to me. I began questioning myself, “What if I fall? What if I can’t breathe in such altitude? What if they can’t hear me? What if they step on me?” With such fear I took a breath, hopped on the shoe and to their ankle. I guess it tickled. She began to look at me with her big brown eyes. She grabbed me with her rough fingers and squeezed me as if she was wrestling somebody. She looked more closely, this time in her palm. I took a deep breath and shouted at the top of my lungs. I guess she could only hear it as a tiny squeak. She was kind of surprised to hear me speaking.She jumped and began to listen to me carefully. I told her to tell this to every worker that works in this farm. I said, “There is a farm where they produce coffee, have schools for the workers and their children, they get a fair wage for their product, and they are always smiling whether they are working or having a break. In that farm children don’t work, they are educated just like children your age all over the world.” She looked at me curiously and I could see in her eyes the passion about school and moving. But, I wasn’t finished, “I don’t exactly know where the farm is. It’s about an hour from here. I think you should ask the driver to take you to the road where he meets the coffee truck.”

Before I could finish my sentence correctly, she darted towards the truck with me tightly in her hands. She asked the driver where he always meets the coffee truck. He said it took 50 minutes from the cocoa farm and she asked if she could bring all the workers at night and sneak out. The driver looked at her with wide eyes as if he wanted to do that since he worked here. She ran to where all of the workers were and told them what the plan was. So,they all got ready to sneak out. Thinking about the smiles on their faces still makes me happy. Now, they wouldn’t have to worry about their wage anymore! I hope one day that every kid can be like a kid, and watch a fun movie or a TV show like any other kids.

39

Journey in the T-Shirt By: Ella Mathison

Resting on the muddy, wet dirt beside my family’s hut was depressing. I am only a soggy cotton fluff, why would anyone care that I was thrown to the side? The runt of the crop? The ugly duckling? Just a cotton fluff… nobody cares. Yet, I still wish they would come out, find me, sell me, make me a peaceful life in a pretty, little t-shirt. Not a chance. My soft, fluffy roots were already covered in mud. Cleaning me with water would just make me stiff and dry. The door to the hut swung open, and a little boy came out.

I knew this boy, he lived in the hut. He looked as though he was going off to school, which he attended about every month or so. The family could not afford to do the same for the girl, and they knew the boy would have more chances for work. Girls just don’t have the same rights. The boy talked of being another cotton farmer, but his father insisted on a doctor. Why people would choose farming over health care, I didn’t know. He set off through the muddy, dark, rain scattered streets to the school just down the road.

Suddenly, he stopped and turned around. He started to walk the other way.

Towards the hut, towards me.

I wanted to scream, “Pick me up! Take me home!” He seemed to read my thoughts. He snatched me from the ground in cupped hands and whispered, “No cotton flower forgotten.”

He smiled, then carried me towards the hut.

“Mama! Papa! I found one, I found the one we need!”

Apparently, from what I heard in the blabber which came afterwards, they needed one more cotton flower to reach their quota. Where would they sell it? They answered my question before I could think about it.

“The Gap will be pleased.”

Though I knew nothing of this place, I was excited to go.

40

Ella Mathison

A few months later, after a lot of hard work in some factories, me and my new friends were on a rack in the Gap, New York. Our favourite game was to play, ‘Red Person, Green Person’. When there was someone wearing red, the red team would scream ‘RED!’. When someone would be wearing green, my team would yell ‘GREEN!’. Later, we changed it to white and black. Apparently, black and white was in, and red and green was out. No one was wearing red and green, but every person who passed would be wearing black or white. My team, black, won by two points.

Finally, our time came. A lovely lady with a black barrette, (BLACK!) stalked into the room.

She had long, flowing, golden hair in a loose braid down her back. She wore a skimpy grey skirt and tights. A white blouse hung loosely on her shoulders (WHITE!). She smiled at us, and picked us up.

We, in fact, were a black t-shirt. She brought us to the counter, paid, and then took us to a t-shirt print shop. She asked for a person-looking picture to be printed on us. The iron was hot, humid, and felt like being in an oven. It strode across us, back and forth. Back, and forth. Rubbing us flat like a lily pad. Finally, we had a sticky person with their arm raised on the front of our t-shirt. We later learned this was the fair trade symbol.

She wore us everyday to work, then washed us in the washer. One day, we overheard exciting talk.

“Sofia, you are to go and visit the cotton farmers in India. You leave tomorrow.”

Sofia, the shirt owner, was obviously excited, so were we. The plane ride to India was long, cold, and dark. She didn’t wear us that day, so we were stuck down in the under part of the plane. When we landed, she rolled us off to a cute little hotel. The next day, we were on her again. She saw and talked to many people who were mainly cotton farmers about fair trade. They all seemed interested, but only some agreed to work for her.

Many had children, and a family. That meant that they needed money to feed their families. I, personally, did not understand why you would have a family. What’s the point if you have to make more money, more mouths to feed? We already have too many humans in this world, we don’t need more.

41

Ella Mathison After Sofia’s rough tiring day, we went back home and into the drawer we went, my friends and I. It was a long and comfortable night. Sofia put us on a pile of blankets she didn’t end up needing.

They were warm and fuzzy and smelled of burnt coals. The next morning, early I daresay, a cleaning lady knocked on our door. Sofia handed her some clothes, which unfortunately included us.

The washing machine was hot and relaxing, but also very dizzy. For about ten minutes, we were tossed in circles. It was like clockwork, same routine, not stopping. Finally, after what seemed like forever, the cleaning lady took us out.

It wasn’t over. Then came the drier, hot and sweaty, and then came the iron. At 6:00 in the morning, we came back to the drawer. No more than 2 seconds later, we were thrown on Sofia again. I thought nobody could hear us, we were all groaning to get more sleep. Sofia, on the other hand, was eating breakfast. Some yoke fell into three pieces of cotton fluff, luckily I was not one of them. The only downside was that we knew where we just came from, we would be entering once more.

Sofia was desperate this time. She did not have enough people joining the fair trade program, and she couldn’t come home until she got a minimum of 40. For all we know, she wouldn’t be coming home in a long time.

However, as most do, Sofia’s dreams came true. She got 25 this time and before she had 15.

She laughed and convinced, and talked, and chatted, and waved her arms, and shook hands and introduced, and did everything she could to get people to join this program.

After all I saw today, I discovered something I didn’t before. I now understand why people had kids and a family. It’s not about the hardship, the starvation, the trouble… it’s about love. Children give you love and bring joy to your life, not loneliness.

42

Next Stop, The World By: Maryah Noorani

It was pitch black. I felt like I couldn’t breath, I was suffocating. “HELP!!! HELP!!!,” I shouted.

The only thing I could see was silver surrounding me. That’s when I realized I was in a wrapper. I started to shake, side to side, but I wasn’t the one who was moving it. Finally, I stopped. This was not the end. I saw a glow of light, not just silver. I realized this was not my home. There was a little girl in front of me. I watched her swing her long, brown hair over her right shoulder. Her rainbow socks stood out with her snow white sneakers. She was wearing a sweater that had an unusual animal on it… an alligator? a dinosaur? I couldn’t tell. She was wearing baby blue shorts. She looked very young. Maybe 7? She was coming closer and closer until finally… Whoops, I forgot to tell you the whole story, let me start from the beginning.

The sun was shining and the birds were tweeting. The harvester started to sweat. He was passing by, whistling a nice tune that matched with the birds’ song. He does that every day. The man looked for ripe cocoa pods that would have good beans. He took so many cocoa pods, but not us. We were not ripe yet.

I’ve always wondered where the pods and beans were put. All I know is that the man takes them to his hut. Today he took a new pod. The pod just sat in his hands as he walked back.

The next day, I woke up just to see a blood red truck in front of the hut. The truck had five barrels full of small, brown cocoa beans, which looked like seeds. The beans were lying there, lazily squished together. The harvester carried another barrel into the truck, which would make it six. There was a man following him. The man was wearing a plain, white shirt with blue jeans and finally, black and white boots. He jumped into the truck and slammed the door shut. He was driving back. All the cocoa beans were jumping up and down like they were on a trampoline. The truck was long gone.

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Maryah Noorani

I saw the man sitting down with a depressed expression. Looking down into his hands, he was holding some coins. I couldn’t see how many. He took out a picture from his pocket. It was a photo of him, a woman, and a little boy. They were all smiling, huddled together. The man headed back into his hut.

Today is the day. I am ready. The harvester was coming toward us. He took us off of our branch and grabbed our pod with both hands. His hands were warm and cozy. Then he stopped and shook us. He nodded and headed back to the hut with us in his hands.

We were inside the hut. It wasn’t much different from the outside. The only thing different was that it was guarded with straw. Even with the straw, it didn’t help. He had a big knife on the ground. He grabbed our pod with his left hand. His left hand had scratches everywhere, on his palm, on his fingers, everywhere! With his right hand he held his big knife. It was as sharp as a razor. He swung it back. I closed my eyes and… CRACK!!!

The next thing I know, I’m in a barrel with a bunch of other beans in a truck. I was on the top trying to hop up and down, but I was stuck like glue to the other beans. I was wondering why the others didn’t try to escape, but I got distracted because I saw the harvester.

“AAAAAHHHHH!!!!!” I cried trying to get the harvester’s attention. That didn’t work, he didn’t seem to hear me. The harvester just turned away and walked into his hut.

I really started to hop when the driver just rolled over all the rocks. I tried to jump out, but I just went from barrel to barrel to barrel. I went and started to hit the back glass, again and again and again. The driver looked back and stopped the truck. I stopped jumping. He started to drive slower to make sure no beans fell out.

We arrived and there were men in front of me. They started to talk to each other and I saw one take out a beige sac. He started to put all of the beans in the sac. Finally, it was my turn. I was so scared I just froze… Well I didn’t have a choice, I couldn’t move.

I woke to see the sun shining in my eyes. “Am I dead?” I asked myself.

“You’re not…,” clarified a deep voice, “Are you a new comer?”

“Who said that??? Well I am new, so can yo-” “SSSHHH!!!!! She’s coming, I hope I get picked!”

44

Maryah Noorani

A woman was coming toward us. She was showing no expression. The woman had a long, purple, floral dress. She was wearing a blue and black headcover that covered her hair. She started to pick beans and she picked me. As soon as she held me, I could see more than onethousand beans. I was thrown back into a the sac again. This time I was moving a lot.

I started to get carried into a charcoal black airplane. The airplane started to lift into the air and speed up. It took about 30 minutes. I arrived… Well I didn’t know where I arrived until I saw a sign that read “AUSTRALIA”. We were far away from my home, my home was West Africa.

We were all carried again into a factory. I saw all the workers. I couldn’t count how many, but I knew there was a lot of them. They were all sweating, more than how the harvester usually would. I was laid down next to another sac and I heard the deep voice again. He was waiting, “La la la…” His singing did sound unusual. I tried to call him and ask what was happening, but he just stopped singing and was silent. I kept on trying to make him talk, but before I knew it, I was taken into a man’s hands. They took the shell off of me. I didn’t even know I had one. Once again I was thrown into a sac, but this one was white, it was labeled “To Ireland”. Now I’m in a small ghost white plane. I was there for sometime. I don’t know how long because I was thinking about what was going to happen to me. “Was I going to die?” I said to myself. Before I knew it, we arrived. I was so excited because I thought I was back home… I wasn’t. I arrived at a place called Ireland…

I think?

This time I was brought into a huge building labeled “Fair Trade Cocoa Factory.” These people were different… They were happy! It did take them some time to get me out of my sac.

The man took a handful of beans and I was in it. I didn’t want to be picked because they put me in a mixer and before I knew it I was whirling around violently.. “AAAAHHHH!!! HELP!!!” No one could hear me. They didn’t care, they just got back to work. After all of that whirling, they poured me and the rest of the chocolate into a rubber mold and into a big refrigerator.

A FEW MINUTES LATER

I was put into a tan colored cardboard box and I don’t remember anything after that. I got knocked out. Now I’m in the process of getting eaten, by a little girl. Well back to the story.

The girl was coming closer and closer until finally, OW!!! I… got… eaten.

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Fair Trade By:Nicolas Ortiz

Hi, I am a banana. I actually have a life. I always look from my banana tree and I feel something really bad is happening. I am a over exaggerating banana.I can get really scared about something that is not that scary. When I see the the worker ,they are always sad and never get paid enough, but since they are poor and don’t have anything like an education. Then, I see them taking bananas from the banana trees in Costa Rica, and they are angry like flames of fire were coming out of their mouth. This is all happening because the company is not giving them a fair wage. When I look at the workers, they are praying that they can have an education. I know we don’t like school, some people say, but these people beg to go to school.

Oh, what’s happening? I just woke up and I was coughing. I just realized why. They put a spray on me so other creatures wouldn’t eat me. Then, they brought me to this place and I saw these poor workers and they were making me take a bath. I didn’t want to, but they dumped me in the water and when I came out, I was soaking wet. They put me into this cramped box and put on me cover so I wouldn’t get out.

Then, I realized when I felt something, I was on a truck. I was shaking and I heard a noise. I was terrified, but these other bananas were calm.They didn’t even care. I was so terrified. I couldn’t see what was happening and where they were bringing me. When I arrived the truck unloaded the boxes from the bus I was in. Then, the crane grabbed me and the other bananas. The crane was swinging me around. I got really dizzy and I was about to vomit. Finally, the crane loaded me on to something else. Something was about to start moving. When I heard a noise, it was a boat noise. I was going through the Atlantic Ocean. I was terrified. I started by being sprayed and being sick.

Then,the workers dumped me into the water so I took a bath, then into a cramped box, and now in a boat traveling the Atlantic Ocean. This was so terrifying. For humans it is not scary, but imagine if a tiger was going to eat you. That’s what it feels like. “It was such a long the journey, at least it felt like it”. .

46

Nicolas Ortiz

After we traveled the Atlantic Ocean, we arrived to the other harbor and they unloaded the other bananas and I. I arrived, still in this case, terrified and sick. I still can't see anything, but they unloaded me and a golf cart picked me up and put me into a warehouse. It took so much time. I waited for a while, until one day I heard them bringing the box somewhere and I knew where I was going. They loaded me on to the truck. The truck starting moving. I could smell the gas coming out. I knew we starting going to somewhere. It took a pretty long time until we arrived at the next place of my journey. When the other bananas and I arrived we were unloaded and taken out of the box and into fresh air, but it was only for a second until someone came and bought me. I was put in a plastic bag with other stuff.

I was brought to somebody’s house and they pulled my skin off and ate me.

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A Simple Cocoa Bean By: Eliana Pascolo The children’s heads glistened in the sunlight with sweat. They had been working for hours and hours with no breaks. They barely got paid anything at all, and the farmers only fed them when they felt it was necessary. I watch them every day, slaving away harvesting cocoa beans and making chocolate. Most of the kids hadn’t been to school in years, but would kill to have another opportunity.

I was supposed to be made into chocolate. I am a cocoa bean. I live on a cocoa farm in Africa and I’ ve fallen on the ground and been mistaken for dirt. I’m alone, but that’s okay with me, I don’t want to become chocolate. I don’t want to be made into a yummy little chocolate bar that has been created by child slaves.

I watch the kids harvest cocoa everyday. They’re like clockwork, they do the same routine, not stopping, never changes. I always keep my eye on one kid. His family died when he was younger, his name is Berko. He had curly, ebony hair, he was bony and fragile but never acted like it. His movements were swift and fast, and he was one of the best workers in the cocoa farm.

“I can’t do this anymore!” Berko spat, “I can’t work from dusk to dawn every day and make barely anything! I’m leaving!”

“Where are you gonna go Berko?” the other children asked.

“To a fair-trade farm,” He replied certainly.

“You know they’re never going to hire you. They don’t hire kids,” the other children snickered.

Berko pretended not to hear them. Berko had been holding on to this plan since day one.

“Can you guys help me or not?” Berko whined.

“Fine Berko, we’ll help you,” the children sighed.

The children broke the cocoa pods off the trees and loaded them into Berko’s worn out sack.

He turned around,took a step in my direction. He bent down. All of a sudden, I was being picked up and placed into his pocket for safe keeping. Where were we going?

It seemed like we’d been walking forever. Finally, we stopped, and I was yanked out of his pocket. We were in the middle of nowhere. I watched as Berko started his plan. The first step of his plan was to make chocolate and he had a bunch of cocoa pods in his sack, so we hopefully would have a decent amount of money for our journey.

48

Eliana Pascolo First, he managed to split the cocoa pods open, next he removed the beans and pulp from the pods. He ripped off banana leaves from the tree and place the beans on it. We waited even though we knew it would take a while. It would be over a week till the cocoa beans fully dried, fermented, and roasted.In the mean time Berko had to find food on his own. He grabbed me and took off.

He opened his journal. It was dirty and falling apart. The spine was being held together by a thin coat of glue. It was his father’s journal before he died. He wrote in the journal with a tiny stub of charcoal. In his journal his father had written what plants were safe to eat, and which ones to stay clear of. Almost instantly, he found a safe plant to eat. It had a fuzzy texture and apparently tasted bland. Berko would have to eat whatever he could find for now, but when the cocoa was finished turning into chocolate, he would go to the market and sell it. He would then use that money to get proper food. It was getting dark and I was really tired. Berko laid out his blanket. It had holes in it everywhere, but it was better than sleeping on nothing. It smelled like sewer,but it was warm and fuzzy.

A few weeks later, the cocoa had finally finished being roasted, dried and fermented. He ground the cocoa beans with a stone and added milk and sugar, which he stole from the pantry in the old house he worked for, into the mixture. Berko waited a few days until it had fully cooled and moulded. Then, he set off.

Berko’s feet ached from walking hours. Only a few more minutes until he reached the market place. He set up shop in an empty booth. The booth was falling apart, but it was the only one left.

“Chocolate! Chocolate for sale!” he screamed, “Come and get your fresh chocolate!”.

He had been there for 7 hours and only 5 people bought his chocolate. I felt bad for the boy, but who wants to buy chocolate from a kid? With the money Berko earned, he bought fruit and set out on his journey.

He was dehydrated and famished, but Berko didn’t stop walking. He had been walking for days, and Berko ran out of fruit to eat 48 hours ago. I was worried for his health, but there was nothing I could do.

To much surprise, Berko finally reached the fair trade offices. He walked in to find a plump lady with red-rimmed glasses typing away at her computer.

“Hi, my name is Berko, I make chocolate. Can I get some work?” he asked, looking around at the office.

49

Eliana Pascolo

“Hello, Berko, nice to meet you. I don’t think we can give you work. It’s against the law,but I’ll see what I can do,” the receptionist answered politely.

“Okay. Thanks anyways,” said a slightly defeated Berko.

The lady disappeared behind the doors of the building. I was worried, Berko had nothing to go back to. The lady reappeared with a folder in her hand. She smiled and gave it to Berko.

“What is this?” Berko asked intrigued.

“Open it,” the lady answered. She was showing a toothy grin and you could tell she was excited.

Berko opened the folder slowly. He was interested but extremely wary. He read the papers and a look of confusion entered his face.

“Why is this a school application? I can’t afford to go to school,” He sighed and looked at the floor.

“Congratulations, Berko, we are sending you to school for free! Since we can’t give you work, we decided to give you the next best thing,” she exclaimed.

Berko jumped up and down and hugged the lady. He looked genuinely happy for once.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you!” he said as he squeezed the lady.

“You’re so welcome, Berko,” she said and smiled a goofy grin.

Berko’s palms were sweaty and his heart beat was off the charts, but he was extremely excited for his first day of school. His uniform was a little baggy and loose but it was clean and it was soft material.

“Berko, are you ready?” the lady asked. She had to escort him to make sure he got to school safely.

He ran up the stairs of the school and walked in. This is it, I thought. Berko could finally have a chance at some happiness.

50

The unfairness of Bole Bananas By: Sameer Passi 6A

People love to eat me because I am amazing, but never under-estimate the power of a banana! I’m a banana plant living on the Rodriguez family banana farm. They are such kind people and watching the little children grow up so fast, like a thriving plant. Ever since I was planted here, about 9 months ago, I have always been excited to make bananas. They have an amazing home and lots of land to farm bananas, but for a while they haven’t seemed very happy. Sometimes I also see the kids harvesting bananas from the plants before they should be back from their schooldays. Their clothes are not as clean as they used to be. I’m not sure why, but I’m getting pretty worried.

I’ve decided to find out why they are having trouble.

So, here is what I found. One day Mr. Rodriguez was harvesting bananas from our plants and I heard him muttering about how they were starting to have a drop in their pay because of Bole, a bigtime, fruit-selling company, was not giving them enough money to live well and send their children to school. I thought , everyone has the right to a fair wage and all children should be able to go to school. I mean, that’s just human rights. And companies have to pay their workers well, otherwise the workers could just stop supplying the bananas. No companies would want that because they only care about money.

Right now I’m just thinking about how this family could get better wages for their labour. Here’s what I’ve thought of so far: ●

they could switch companies they work for and see what they pay, but the other company would probably do the same thing

●

they could try to argue with the company about the farmers’ wages, the company just wouldn’t care

●

they could try to show the buyers all the things that people have to go through without of a fair wage, the company still wouldn’t care

After a long, long, long time of thinking, I think I finally found the answer. Well, three actually.

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1.

They could create a small group of farmers that are not getting good enough prices for their bananas. Then, they could all put their bananas in a “pool” and sell them for a great amount of money. And, think of the possibilities, they could build more schools or doctor’s offices.

2.

They only sell their bananas to fair trade companies. The only problem is that there aren’t many of them.

3.

Or, they could mix the them both together.

Ok. I’ve decided on #3. I’m planning on telling Mr. Rodriguez when he comes back tomorrow to harvest the bananas from my plant.

Now, I’ve told him and I think he is really happy about my idea.

A Few Weeks Later Guess what, Mr. Rodriguez has already started a group of farmers and all of them and their families are growing so much better. I am so happy for them. And, guess what?! Their children are getting a great education. They already have dreams of what they want to be. Do you have something you want to be?

Well, that’s my story. Next time you eat a banana try to remember where it came from and how people had to work very hard to put food on your plate, because you know what? There are people in this planet who work hard every single day. They throw their backs out and take injuries just to have enough to eat or send their children to school. So, now that that has been said. Good luck in the future.

And, remember the people and the things that have helped you survive.

So, all in all, never underestimate the power of fair trade and what you can do to impact the world.

Speaking of fair trade, when you do help the people, start small. For instance, tell your parents to only buy the fair trade bananas and other foods or if you want go bigger, tell to your local grocery store manager to only buy fair trade bananas.

Goodbye to all. Oh! I almost forget... never under-estimate the POWER of a BANANA!!!

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Stump By: Isaac Rose dAY 1 I look around. I see the dark, dilapidated hut, slowly moving away from me. I take a deep breath and smell the herbs from the rest of the garden. I look down at the ground, soil the colour of chocolate.

Chocolate. I snickered at the thought of it. Chocolate makes me sick. In ten years six months, my cocoa beans will be gruesomely cut open, dried, roasted, shipped away, smashed, and molded into little stupid squares. And for what? For the enjoyment of mankind. I looked up at the man who was carrying my little, sapling body. The man is small, very small, and skinny, with a stubby nose and big, wide eyes. I think he is a man sapling. Strange I think. We are slowly approaching a little hole in the ground. When we reach there, the man sapling bends over. I see a glimpse of his tired, frowny, face covered in dirt. He stops and slowly buries me into the cold, chocolate coloured soil.

Day 3 I’ve been in the soil for a long time now. I like it. The soil is soothing and relaxing. Though the darkness is kind of scary. I also can’t stop thinking about the man sapling. I hate him to his core.

Day 5 The darkness is getting to me, so is the loneliness. I feel trapped and cramped. I want to see the sun again.

Day 10 My sapling self has grown!!! I am tall enough now to see above ground. I look up the blue sky as pure as gold. The birds flying in what seems to be slow motion. I see their elegant wings glide throughout the sky like fans cutting through the wind. I look down at the chocolate colored soil. I see a caterpillar nibble away at a nearby leaf of another tree. This is the life I think to myself. Sitting back relaxing. It’s so peaceful.

53

Isaac Rose

Day 50 I’ve turned into an impressive little sapling. My features have grown dramatically, I even have a little bark! I’ve also made a friend, his name is Barkolomew. He is a good five years older than me, but we still get along. He has long branches reaching towards the sky, bark the color of dirt (normal dirt not the chocolate colored dirt), small leaves the color of grass, and a deep voice. He is quite wise. I’ve talked about the wretched man sapling with him. He calls the man sapling a “child.” It says the “child” works so much to support us and is not always treated fairly. That is one thing we disagree on. How could someone so ruthless and so evil that he can willingly destroy my cocoa beans be caring and supportive?

Day 365 I do apologize for not writing sooner. I’ve just been too busy watching the silly child run around, to “take care” of us. Barkolomew told me that the child only does this for profit to help himself. It enrages me, destroying my pods for profit, taking me out of my home and planting me here. I hate it.

day 835 The child has grown by an inch or so. He looks a little more like a man than a child now. He also looks sad. I am starting to feel a little sorry for him. Maybe he doesn't want to do this. Maybe he’s being forced to do this. He looks too sad to be enjoying this. Maybe he..., I now notice the man. Not a man sapling or a “child” but a man. I’ve seen him many times before. Many times I’ve seen him push the child, yell at him, sometimes even worse. He has ugly features a long pointy nose narrow slits for eyes, and a voice that makes you want to cough every time you hear it.

He picks up the boy, his long nose pointing at the sky. He yells at him talking about profit in his horrible voice, then throws the child down with long, bony arms, spits at him and walks away.

day 1406 Not much has happened since last time I wrote to you. I've grown a bit and so has Barkolomew. I asked Barkolomew what he thinks of the man. He responded, “I don't like him.”

“Me neither”, I said. I also added, “But I still don’t like the idea of the child cutting my cocoa pods.”

“I’ve heard it doesn’t hurt, nor bother you at all.”

“I don’t care, I still want to keep my cocoa beans.”

“I can’t help you there”, said Barkolomew.

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Isaac Rose

day 1826 The child has left. A while back, a group of people, two men and a group of three of what Barkolomew calls women, took the boy in some kind of vehicle and left. I couldn’t hear clearly what they were talking about, but something about rights and being forced to work and not having enough to live on. I’m happy for him. Maybe he will start a new and better life.

Barkolomew is now ready to produce cocoa pods. He only has a few, and they’re not ripe, but soon they will be turned into cocoa beans. His pods are green, the same color as his leaves. They’ re about the size of a watermelon.

A man has come to replace the child. This time is he actually a man. He is short, stubby, and plump. I often see him twiddling his thumbs when he takes a break, something the child did not have. He looks healthier than the child, more energetic. I can see that he eats more than the child as well. When I saw the child, he was eating almost nothing. I like the new man. He always has a grin on his face, something the child also almost never had.

day 2654 “Barkolomew?” I ask.

“What?” he replies.

“I was wondering, what’s my name? Your name is Barkolomew so what is mine?”

“What would you like it to be?”

I think for a moment. “Hmmm... how about Stump.”

“Great! Stump it is.”

day 3835 Barkolomew has produced miles of cocoa beans since last time I wrote. Whenever the farmer comes to pick them, he always has a grin on his face. Barkolomew tells me it tickles when he does it. I, myself, have cocoa beans as well. They’re shaped like melons, just like Barkolomew’s. They look like... I hear a rustle and look around. It’s the farmer and he has a machete. The machete is a straight line that curves at the end and all of a sudden becomes razor sharp. I know what he’s coming to do. Barkolomew says in his deep voice,”This is it Stump, it’s time.”

I reply back proudly but still a bit scared, “I know and I’m ready.”

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The Unfair Truth About Faz’s Chocolate By:Pippi Samuel There was a cocoa tree in Africa and the tree was grown by a child. They worked for the company, Faz’s Chocolate. They didn’t get paid much, they would work all day and didn’t get anything in return. Nobody knows what happens in West Africa where the kids could work for hours.

The worse part of it all is the fact that Faz's Chocolate had always known about the child labour.

Ayana, the biggest of all the buds on the cocoa tree, was grown by a farmer named Pablo. He had grown a giant tree, which he had been growing for 6 years. Ayana thought that the world was a wonderful place. She could only feel the breeze that would come. It felt beautiful.

She had thought that it was a rich world, full of colours, and beauty, where they lived happily in the tree. She was strong, ripe, and ready to be picked. Soon she would see the world.

She felt the warm, strong hands press up to her shell. There was a small tug and it evolved into a pull. Then, there was a feeling of freedom, but this was the beginning. She would soon be broken out, her shell gone. She would be free.

The movement was swift, fast, she couldn’t wait. It was exciting. The feeling pooled up in her.

She felt like nothing could stop her, yet there was a stop. This was it, she was dropped on to a rough surface. What was this substance she was on?

After a bit, she felt something new. A feeling, she could not re-call feeling this before. Was this it? Was she going to see the world she had been dreaming of for four years? As Ayana opened her eyes, she saw no beauty, no colours, rags instead of riches. Was this what has been going on all along. There was no feeling of joy.

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Pippi Samuel She had overheard a child that was speaking of something called fair trade. Childhood, kindness, and relaxation, had this child never heard of these simple words? Had she been living the dream of these children?

That night, the farmer talked to her. “I know you probably can’t understand me, but I have nobody to talk to. My name is Pablo,” the young farmer said, his voice sounded quite small and had lost it’s hope.

“I’m lonely, scared, and just want a childhood. I’ve heard of a childhood that’s full of fun, happiness, and no worries. I want that childhood.” Pablo explained in a desperate way that she couldn’t imagine.

Ayana realized she had to do something to help Pablo. He was alone and desperate to find his childhood. Ayana knew there was only one way to help Pablo. She would have to grow into a stronger form somehow, she would have to stop this child labour. Growing will take lots of work and lots of time.

6 Month Later Ayana is ready, she has become the chocolate bar that will make fair trade happen, the children will get there childhood, she will get fair trade in Africa. How was she going to make fair trade? Nobody could understand her, she doesn’t know how to write, and she couldn’t move at all.

She was useless and soon a kid will come by and eat her. Wait! No, she could do something, she would just need some help.

“The fair trade chocolates,” Ayana said to herself, “they are more powerful and can help me.”

Ayana was with a lot of different fair trade chocolates in the boxes. She had been in one for many hours. She had to talk to one, but which ones were the fair trade ones? She knew one of them would definitely be a fair trade chocolate. Ayana asked, “Are any of you fair trade chocolate?”

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Pippi Samuel

There was one answer. It was small and fragile and she barely heard it. A quaint, fragile chocolate bar appeared.

“I’m a fair trade chocolate... what do you need?” Ayana studied the bar and asked,

“Can you tell people to only buy fair trade chocolate bars? A boy named Pablo needs you.”

A voice from beyond the sea of chocolate said, “He’s too fragile and small. He can’t do it.”

Ayana believed in the chocolate bar and said,“This bar can, he will help the farmers who create us.”

After a few more hours, the chocolate was dropped off at the biggest mall in town. It was time for fair trade to begin. The first kid walked in. Nobody noticed when the little chocolate bar stepped up. The plan was a success, the letter on the chocolate stand worked.

On that day, Faz’s Chocolate declared that in 2017, they will help the victims that were involved with the child labour.

The fragile chocolate bar showed the world, that no matter your size, you can make a change.

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The Life of a Soccer Ball By: Aarish Siddiqui I am a cotton plant and I have seen the workers in the fields of Congo picking my friends one by one.

It felt like someone was picking my eyes out one at a time. I have been rustled and picked like my friends in this dark place. We start to move forward and the speed gradually starts building up.

Suddenly, the movement stops, and I was thrown into a container with all my brothers and sisters. A few moments later, I felt that I was being pushed backward by nothing but thin air. This push stayed in effect for God knows how long. Later, the push stopped and I could maintain proper breathing.

After 9 hours, the push feeling started again, but this was las intense than before. Then ,there was a giant boom sound and the lid on top of us burst open. The impact was so hard that we saw the side wall. I saw that we had skidded far off the runway in Karachi, Pakistan. We were the last to be offloaded from the plane. My best friend had flown out of the top that had exploded on impact.

Two days later we got on this strange looking giant car like object. We went an adventurous trek up Pakistan to the Northern India border. Here ,I met up with all my friends ,their names are Rubber, Polyester, and Butyl. I am thrown into a mixer with all the other materials. I was brought to a whole bunch of women in weird clothes they sew me together with other parts that looked equal to me.

Out of the corner of my eye I could see child workers sewing soccerballs for Nidapum. They were being paid by how many stitches they had sewn. Then, I was thrown into a bin of other soccerballs.

There wasn’t much space in there. The opposing companies balls were being made in the house next door. I was thrown into a bin with a logo other than Adidas or Nike, it was Senda.

No one had noticed that I had been thrown into a bin with Senda balls. On the logo it said ,“Fair Trade” on the soccer balls. I knew that I was meant to go to Toronto, but since I got hurled into a box of Send’s soccer balls ,I was going to London.

On the way to London, I had a chat with the Senda balls. They told me that their workers had been paid the minimum wage, and they had gotten enough money to put food on the plate and send their kid to school. It was a peaceful flight all and all. I believe half way to London it got really shaky. When it finally stopped, I was upside down and the weight was unbearable.

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Aarish Siddiqui

An hour later, the shaky feeling had started again, but this time it was worse. We were being rattled and thrown out of our container. Seeing the damage to the plane, it looked like we were going to crash. In my mind I was thinking, “Not again.”

We were going down fast, some cartons had already fallen out of the plane. I had the strange feeling in my stomach that I was about to fly out next. At least it would have been better than blowing up in a falling airplane. I had a sliver of hope in my mind that the pilot would control the plane and we would land safely.

Sadley, that was not true. We were still going down really fast. I was wondering if I blew up, would the workers not get their money? That thought lingered in my mind for a while.

I was wondering if we were close to the ground or not. It seemed as I thought it had been ages since we had started descent. Bang! We hit the ground with such power that I had flown out the opening in the hold. A few seconds later, I heard a boom and I was hurled far, far away from the airplane.

Later, the pain started rolling in. It felt like there was a hole in my back and that I couldn’t move forward any more. The grass was cold and bare. I wondered if anyone would find me? Would I just sit there and rot away? After, I belive, 4 days had passed someone finally found me.

They brought me to their cozy house where I was put into a closet with clothes and a backpack. The next day, I was put into the backpack with some books, pencils and notebooks. I stayed in the bag for about three hours. Then, this hand reached down and plucked me out of the bag.

I was put in the center of what I think was a field. Suddenly, humans started belting me with their feet all around the field. Out of no where, I was thrown up into the sky and a human hand tried stopping me from flying into the net. Later, human screams could be heard from Mars. e Later, I was put back into the bag and brought back to the house. This cycle continued for a long time. One day, I kicked high above the net and into someone’s garden.

I hit the ground like lightening. The owner of the garden looked surprised when he saw me in their garden.

He brought me to the store where I was on a shelf with other Nidapum balls. One day, someone bought me. It was the happiest day of my life ever since I was picked in the fields of Congo.

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Fair Trade Cotton By: Hayden Spindler I sat in the sun as my cotton grew soft and fluffy on me. The workers were smiling, they seemed happy and grateful for their jobs.

“Well, that’s what I assumed,” I said to myself.

I heard one of the workers mumble, “I have been working for hours and hours.”

I looked closer and saw that the workers had dirty feet, they had big bruises, purple blisters that looked like round, red, fat circles on their hands, and the workers looked like they were very skinny and unhealthy.

I sat and thought all night and I saw all the workers still working.

“What about making sure their families get fed?” I said quietly.

The next sunny morning they were still working. All I could hear was, “This sucks,” yelled one of the workers “I dont know where my family is,” said another worker.

I thought that I couldn’t do anything to help them. Then,I sat and thought for a while as I stared off into nothing. I finally came up with an idea, my cheeks reddened with the excitement. I would go on strike until the boss gave the workers more money. I made a sign that said FAIR TRADE IS FAIR, in big bold letters. I also stopped growing my cotton so that they could not get anymore. I know that the boss would have to pay attention to this. I did it for three nights and I was exhausted. On the first night, it was boring. Although it was very tiring, I needed to stick up for the workers. The second night it got a bit worse because of holding the heavy sign up.

My arms got weak and I was starting to give up. On the third night that’s when people really started to notice that I was on strike. After the third night, my eyes had bags hanging halfway down my face, and I could barely hold the sign up.

Hayden Spindler The boss saw that I had stopped growing cotton and that the workers were in terrible shape. He was shocked he never knew the condition the workers were living in. He knew the workers needed a higher price. He would get the workers a higher price, “I am going to try but I can not promise that you will get a higher pay, but I do promise that I will try,” said the boss in a helpful voice.

The boss emailed the man who decided the wage of the workers.

The man’s name was Robert. The boss said that they need a higher wage or else they would die.The are not healthy at all.

“I will think about it meet. Me tomorrow night at 6:30 at The Coffee Shop,” replied Robert “That’s great” said the boss.

The next day he met the man who decided the wage at the coffee shop.

“Ok, I thought about it, but you need to give me some reasons why?” said Robert “ fine, they have their ribs poking out, they have dirty faces all the time, they do not know where their families are, and the have bruises and blisters on their feet and hands.

Robert said fine. He would add $8.99 to the wage of the workers and they would get paid more often. When the boss came back and told them the good news, the workers jumped in joy and were finally happy. I was happy and I fell asleep for a few days after my hard work of going on strike. It felt like I was in my own dream paradise. I could finally sleep soundly knowing that the workers were getting to see their families, getting paid better and going home to sleep at night.

From then on, everyday was happy, the workers were smiling, and everything was great. The workers got to see their families and got to eat, and drink.

62

The Story of a Soccer Ball By: James Traynor The ball was talking to the cleats about how they were made, where they were born and how. The store was crowded most walked silently usually with friends or family. Some groups of people were louder, talking to each other, shouting in a friendly way to each other and laughing. It was always crowded at the outlet mall especially on Sundays. Anyways, it was probably the only good mall in New York State, mostly because half of the houses and stores around here are dilapidated. “...So yeah, that is how I was made,” said the cleats.

Thats cool,” I said.

“Ya.” “Would you like to know how I was made?”

“Why not?”

“Well, I was first born when a child sewed me up with polyster.”

“The polyester made hexagons one by one until it was a perfect non-deflated ball. Most of the time, there are two people making the ball on two sides but sometimes one .If you don't know what polyester is it’s a material with is sort of like cotton but a bit harder.

“Nice.”

“Ya, then after I was in a perfect ball she started putting on a material, called butyl, which made the design.”

“Some companies inflate their balls before the balls go into the store, others don’t.”

Ball looks thoughtful or confused, Forgetting a part of the story.

The ball looked at the kids walking in the store. They walk up to the ball aisle and pick the ball beside him. As he looked at them he wonders, If there were kids making me, why are these kids playing soccer and others not and why do they look different?

“What conditions are they in?”

“Well really, it is quite horrible.”

“Oh really?”

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James Traynor “Sometimes there are kids used as slaves or sometimes the are older people and elders only getting 6 cents an hour!”

“Since they get such a low wage, they live in terrible houses with no food or anything they need to survive.”

Anyway, after that, I went shipping away, some of the other soccer balls went to Europe but most went to North America with me.”

“When we got there, we got washed in a shower because of the dirt we had on us.”

“Then, we got shipped to our stores, like Puma, NIke, Adidas, and L&M Taylor. I got shipped to Puma.”

“When we got there they put on a cereal code and stuck us on a shelf” “So, that is how you got here?”

“Yep…”

After that, when the soccer ball got bought by a family he looked at the twins in there as they played passing the ball around. The girl was a bit more skillful than the boy at soccer.

But, when he watched the girl kick him, he remembered the girls at the brick factory getting kicked because they were trying to fight back the slave drivers. As the girl did an overhead kick it reminded him of the kids getting thrown and pushed. When they ran inside for dinner, leaving him on the grass, it made him think of the kids running from the slave drivers.

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6B

65

The Fair Trade Realization By: Monica Altshuler While the woman, stressfully, ran her errands, she went to the brand new “Daily Fresh” grocery store a block away from her newly renovated, modern home and bought two chocolate bars, along with her groceries for the week. One was Artizan fair trade chocolate and one was a chocolate bar from the company Choco Loco Inc. As she went home, she struggled to carry all of her heavy bags without dropping them all on the ground, causing everything to spill out and be run over by cars on the street. She finally made it home and dropped off the bags of groceries and left the house again to run the rest of her errands. The chocolate bars were sitting on the counter arguing “Everyone knows that I’m the better chocolate bar!” said the Choco Loco, in an awfully annoying, whiny voice.

“You’re just saying that because you’ve never heard what fair trade is,” said the Artizan chocolate, he had realized how babyish the Choco Loco ` was acting and he detested it very much.

“That’s right, and I never want to,” said the Choco Loco crinkling his wrapper as he crossed his arms. “Why not?” said Artizan.

“Because fair trade will never be as good as me,” said Choco Loco.

“Don’t you see?” said the Artizan raising his eyebrows, “They’re leading you to believe that the way that they make chocolate bars like you is okay. But it’s not.”

“Are you 100% sure about that, because I’m pretty sure that chocolate bars can’t be made better than I was.” said the Choco Loco, beaming, and over-confident.

“Are you sure about that?” the Artizan asked, the Choco Loco nodded his head, “Alright, then how come the farmers from non fair trade aren’t paid fairly?” said the Artizan.

“I’m sure that, that’s just a rumor,” said the Choco Loco in disbelief. “Okay, then why are major companies like Choco Loco Inc. getting rich, while the farmers are barely making enough money to support themselves and their families? Do you think that, that is fair in any way? Because I can assure you, I do not .” said Artizan.

“Oh come on! You know in your heart that, that is a big fat lie!” said Choco Loco, his voice starting to get on the Artizan’s nerves.

Actually it is 100%, completely true” said the Artizan, “And there is usually child labour involved in making non fair trade chocolate.”

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Part 2 They went on and on like that for hours. They both got really upset at each other because they thought that they were better than one another. Then, a couple more hours later they fell asleep, the woman came home. In the morning they were more energised and they started fighting again, can you believe that! They just kept arguing and disagreeing with each other, just because they both thought they were right, but we all know that only one of them can be and is right. The woman left the house again, so instead of keeping it quiet, they started to scream at each other. I guess they really hated one another. They soon searched it up on the internet because one of them wanted the glory of being the one who was correct in this situation, and as it turns out the Artisan was. They started to talk about it and as it turns out the Choco Loco has always wanted to be a fair trade chocolate bar and admitted that the whole “I’m better than you” act was just a facade, he started to cry and apologize, the Artisan accepted. The chocolate bars ended up becoming friends, as it turns out, the only reason why he had been upset with the Artisan was because he was jealous of him. The Choco Loco had then started to ask the Artisan why non fair trade companies do the things that they do, and the Artisan just didn’t know how to answer to the Choco Loco’s questions, so he simply said, “Because things are the way that they are, through the good and the bad, and I guess there are some things, where no matter how hard you try, you just can’t change them by yourself”. Then the Choco Loco began to understand that things happen for a reason because if there were no people doing things that were wrong in the world, then there would not be able to be anyone to fix the bad things that were happening. “We have to stop them” said the Choco Loco.

“Don’t worry there are people who help campaign fair trade products, so that there are still people who buy fair trade,” said Artisan.

“Okay,” said the Choco Loco, “I can live with that.”

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Cocoa Beans By: Alice Baker I met Jim at a cocoa trading market. We went there often so we go to talk to each other a lot.

We usually talked about what it was like being baby cocoa beans on a cocoa plant back at our farm. We were both from different farms so this was fun and interesting to talk about. One day the conversation wandered to our farmers, and how they were treated. Jim had told me that he felt bad for his farmers because they were not treated very well. They were not given enough money to send their kids to school, buy enough food, and their kids had to work to help support their family. This had confused me because my farmers were always treated just fine, they always had enough money.

Later I found out that the reason that my farmers were treated well and Jim’s farmers were not was because I was fair trade and Jim was not. When I found this out, I decided that it was unfair, and that all cocoa should be fair trade. So, I set out to make that happen. On my journey to make all cocoa beans fair trade I met lots of obstacles. I had to battle my way through many meetings with the mayor, meetings with the C.E.O of cocoa trading, and many major cocoa buyers, sellers and producers. When I met with the head of cocoa, I found out that he was a lightning fast speaker. I was in and out of his office within 20 minutes! The major cocoa buyers were not in a rush at all, their meeting took of 4 hours each. The sellers just wanted to make sure they would get the same amount of money for their cocoa,Weather it was fair trade or not.

Finally, I was done with the sellers and it was time to move on to the producers. The producer were fine with everything as long as the cocoa beans were the same quality as they were before.

At last, I was done with all my meetings, but I did not get the results from them until the next day.

That night I could barely sleep, it was like I had gone nocturnal and turned into a bat! Finally, morning came, I was so excited I inhaled my breakfast then sprinted as fast as lightning to the post office. Once I was there, I stuck to my post box like glue, I would not go away for anything.

At last, the results came! I was so excited I could barely open the letter. After I had succeeded in opening the letter, I was so scared to read it, I almost put it back in the envelope, but I caught myself at the last second.

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Alice Baker Finally, I brought myself to read the letter and it turned out I had no need to be worried, all the cocoa companies were okay with the change! They said in due time, not immediately because that is impossible, that a law would be passed saying that all cocoa had to be fair trade. Also, the letter said that eventually all the cocoa trading markets would only sell fair trade cocoa. After, I read this, a smile flew across my face, my cheeks flushed red with joy, and I could not wait to tell Jim! But, then I decided I wanted to keep the news a secret until I saw Jim at a cocoa trading market again.

Eventually, the day came where I was able to tell Jim the great news in person. At 7:00am I was brought to the trading market and it was the same as always. A big room with steel walls and a blue painted ceiling, each cocoa seller had his own oak wood desk with two shelves built in to store paperwork and cocoa beans. they also had an oak wood chair to match. On each desk there were at least 10 little plates where you put a little bar of chocolate. This was so the official chocolate tasters could taste your chocolate. Then they would decide if the company they worked for should buy some of your cocoa beans. Finally, I spotted Jim and I raced over to him. I told him the great news! As I told him the news, the huge smile flew across my face again.

Once I was done telling Jim the news, I could immediately tell he was more excited than anything else in the world. A smile bigger than I had ever had was permanent on his face, his cheeks flushed with so much excitement they were as red as tomatoes, he started jumping up and down and screeching with joy, and he started crying tears of happiness. I was so happy that I had made him and his farmers happy. The next time that I saw Jim at a cocoa trading market he was talking to some of his kids that had just come from the farm where he was from.

He was asking his kids if the farmers were happier now, and you can see that he is getting happier by the second as he hears his kids’ responses because his smile is just getting bigger and bigger by each word. His kids are saying that the farmers are very happy now and have enough money to buy necessities and send their kids to school. A smile creeps across my face as I hear this and I know I will remember this moment forever.

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Lessons Are Learned In The Strangest Of Places By: Alex Bastin Lessons are learned in the strangest of places, even when you’re talking to the gold in your jewelry store.

The rain pounded on the roof of David’s “Premium Jewelry” store. David loves rainy days because on rainy days he tells stories to the gold in his store.

“Can you please tell us a new story?” Juan the non fair trade gold ring pleaded. Jose the non fair trade gold bracelet begged.

“Fine, fine I will!”

“Yaaaaay!” the gold yelled in unison.

“The mine I worked in I only got $2000 per kilo of gold and we had to work 11 hours a day and they didn’t even give us bandaids when we got cut! Also, we only got 10 hours of sleep.”

“...And the gloves they gave us were so hot and so big. All of the protection made me sweat so much, also the boots that they gave me smelled horrible! Uuuugghhhhhhh!”

Juan listened carefully and attentively as David waved his arms around while he told his story about his experience in the fair trade mine.

“I remember when I was in a mine, started Juan, my miner friends Santiago, Pedro, and Diego were always tired because, if they were lucky, they would get 4 hours of sleep because they were usually in the mine all day every day trying to earn money for their families. They always were exhausted and in poor condition,” said Juan,

“Also, whenever anyone got sick or needed medical attention, like if they had a sprained ankle, they would never be able to go because they never had enough money.” said Jose.

“Eventually Pedro our miner friend, died because he dealt with all of the mercury and cyanide in the mine when he was processing all of the gold without protection”, said Jose

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Alex Bastin

“I remember the last week, when I was in a mine, one of the workers spilled a lot of mercury in the mine, unsafe for the other workers, so the mine had to be evacuated for a long time, although in non - fair trade mines no one is trained for handling with mercury or cyanide,” Juan said.

“When we were finally taken out of out the rocks, we were brought to a processing lab when we were being smelted we were first literally soaked in cyanide!” complained Juan, “Although in fair trade mines the processors always try to limit the amount of cyanide used or even eliminated in processing of the gold.”

As David Intensely listened to both of the gold items he had learned a good lesson about fair trade and knew he could do better than just buying cheap non - fair trade gold while across the world, miners like Pedro and Diego were starving and working in a filthy mine all day, every day.

Only about a week later after his talk with the gold, he started to buy fair trade gold, benefiting everyone even though it was more expensive he knew he was making the right choice.

Later that month, Jose and Juan were both sold, and they both were happy even though they had to leave David and his special stories. Although, they knew that since they were gone, they could make more space for more fair trade gold and help all of the hard workers in his old mine with paying for their education, food, clothes and more.

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The Magical Cocoa Bean By: Sasha Brown Sometimes there are things that are mistreated. Sometimes people don’t realise that little things have feelings too.

The little cocoa bean wants to be made into chocolate but isn’t good enough. Beanie was always mistreated. He lives in a cocoa farm with all of the other cocoa beans. He thinks he has a lot friends, but he really doesn’t. He only has one friend named Paul. Beanie saw all of the farmers gathering up all of the other cocoa beans into this little basket. The basket was very nice because it had a cloth inside. Paul was wondering why there was a cloth in the basket. Later that day, they saw the same worker come outside again with the same basket. This time Beanie and Paul wanted to get a closer look at what was inside of the basket. They hopped over to where the man was standing and tried to look inside of the basket, but they were too short to see. The next day they started collecting more cocoa beans, but something different happened. The farmer picked up Beanie and left Paul behind. Paul tried to run to Beanie, but he couldn’t do it. He was in the basket, and Paul couldn’t do anything about it. He remembered what Beanie told him a couple years ago.

Beanie didn’t know where he was, he was scared, lost, and felt kind of claustrophobic. He had never felt like this before. He saw all of these people that were working with the cocoa beans. The last part of this factory that he saw was when all of these cocoa beans were being made into chocolate. Beanie wasn’t scared at all anymore because it was his dream to be made into chocolate.

All of the beans were on the table, where the workers were picking out the right cocoa beans. Beanie started to think, will the workers pick him to be a good cocoa bean or will they just throw me on to the floor? That is exactly what they did. Beanie was thrown on to the floor like a rotten apple that someone took a bite of and then threw in the trash. It started getting late and dark outside. Paul was all alone and did not have any other friends to talk to or to play games with. He saw a very bright circle in the sky and didn’t know what it was. He asked another cocoa bean if he knew what it was, he said, “Why yes, yes I do know what that is. It is a star.”

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Sasha Brown

Paul was thinking if he had heard that word before. He heard it somewhere but where? He heard it from Beanie. Beanie is a huge fan of stars. He loves counting how many he can see in the sky, and to see if he can make shapes with them. Paul really missed Beanie because he was his best friend ever.

It was now morning and Beanie heard someone approaching him. At this point, he was a little bit nervous. He saw this little girl walking towards him. This little girl picked up Beanie very gently. He didn’t know if this girl was a worker or if she was going to make him into chocolate. The girl started the process of making him into chocolate. Once she did the last step, something weird happened.

Nothing like this had ever happened before.

There was a blaring light coming out of Beanie. The little girl didn’t know what was happening.

All she did was all the steps into making him into chocolate. People outside saw the light and went running into the factory. Once the people reached the factory,they couldn’t go inside because it was too bright. The light went down and the cocoa bean was finally made into chocolate. This chocolate was very different then all of the other chocolate. Beanie was extremely happy because now he could feed a family that couldn’t afford any food. The little girl that made Beanie into chocolate was very poor, and was just trying to make chocolate for her family so that they could have something to eat.

A couple days after Beanie was made into chocolate, the little girl and her family tried the chocolate for the first time. They were scared to try the chocolate before because of the blaring light.

The family and the little girl tried the dark brown chocolate. The family had a weird feeling in their stomachs. The little girl was scared. She had the chocolate and didn’t feel anything. All of the sudden her family had the same light coming out of their bodies just like the cocoa bean.

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Sasha Brown

The same day she had more chocolate for her lunch, because that was all that she could find. She slowly took a bite of the chocolate and felt like there was a butterfly in her stomach. She felt like she was free, and that she could do anything she wanted. She went back to the factory to the exact same spot where Beanie was made. She saw these kids that were about her age. She saw that they were working really hard. They were sweating, some people were throwing up because they had done too much work, and the worst thing was that they were all kids. She thought to herself, why would these kids be working? She had a flashback to when she made Beanie into chocolate. When the light began to shine very brightly, she saw these kids picking out cocoa beans. She didn't know why they were because usually adult farmers did that kind of work.

Did she know these kids? Did these kids like doing this? She felt really badly and didn’t want them to do this kind of stuff.

The kids were watching the little girl make Beanie, and they thought if she could do it why couldn’t they? A few days later, the kids went and started to make chocolate with the cocoa beans. When the kids started the process of making the chocolate, they heard a big bang and didn’t know who it was or what it was. It was the workers. The workers had to punish the kids for sneaking into the factory. The little girl thought that this was all of her fault, but it wasnt. Beanie felt really badly for the little girl, but there was nothing that he could do about it.

Beanie saw that the little girl was upset, and that she wasn’t in the mood for eating him.

Beanie tried to move, but he couldn’t because he was chocolate now. He tried and tried and finally did it. He made her feel better, and now she wasn’t upset anymore. This cocoa bean is very special now that he had been turned into chocolate. It makes people feel better, and this chocolate can last forever and ever because it is the magical cocoa bean whose bright light will never die.

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The Soccer Ball By: Anthony Costakos

All the U14 Canadian soccer coaches met up together to set up this league. The soccer league was called the Junior Canadian League. They needed supplies like soccer balls, protective equipment, and fields to play on. First, they searched up on the web which country made soccer balls and they found that Pakistan made 75% of the soccer balls in the world. After they ordered them, a week later hundreds of soccer balls came and the league was ready. So the team names were all the provinces in Canada. Ex: Ontario, Quebec.

Everyone was really excited about the tournament. After they trained and played some friendly matches, everyone was ready for the tournament. Also it was a huge deal to win this. It could get you a very big career in soccer. Some of the best soccer players like Messi and Ronaldo joined lots of leagues and got better.

They started and there were 10 teams participating. They were all going to go full out. Ontario made the final 4 and won. They also won the next game so they would face a tough game in the finals against Manitoba. Manitoba had the same wins and losses of them. They had won in the past though. So the kick off started and there was lots of cheering. At halftime it was 0-0 but at the 53th minute Manitoba scored and it was 1-0. Ontario came back and scored to make it 1-1 but at the last second Manitoba scored and it was 2-1 Manitoba and that was the final score. It was a very embarrassing loss, but then a soccer ball came over to them and started saying these things.

He was saying stuff like “you guys were amazing!” and “you did your best!” Also, he said some people don’t even get to play soccer in the world and they were so lucky to play. They started to feel bad for the people that couldn’t play because soccer is really fun! Also he said you should never bully someone. One of the really important things is treat everybody fair and don’t be selfish.

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Anthony Costakos

The whole game Ontario was just thinking about winning. Now they learned from the soccer ball and the game that some people can’t play soccer and there was always next year to win. They got 2nd place which is amazing. All they know is that they have learned so much from the soccer game, but even after that Manitoba said sorry about teasing them and the 2 best teams in this league celebrated and had a big party after the tournament. They also realized they were not doing the National leagues and now they were doing Internationals leagues which was the best of the best.

Everyone was so excited to maybe be a pro soccer player one day. It turned out the soccer ball was a real hero and it could talk. Eventually, it became famous and it gave everyone advice and made the world a better place. The people in Pakistan who made the soccer balls got raises because soccer is a big sport and it comes from them. They got to feed their families and it shows that people do so much work in countries like Africa and they should not get paid below the minimum wage. They should at least get enough to feed their families. Pakistan got so much money from making soccer balls they even made a new company with soccer equipment. It was called Soccer Stuff. I know it was just a simple name but it got very popular. A few years later it was the company that sponsored the 2018 World Cup in Russia. Of course the ball that they were playing with was the soccer ball that talked.

One day the Ontario team saw the soccer ball laying around on the ground. The soccer ball talked to them and said do you want to kick me around and play soccer. Everyone screamed “YA!!!” They just played soccer and trained for Internationals. After what the soccer ball told them and trained super hard, they won Internationals. That’s what confidence, talking and little boosts can do to a team. The soccer ball just made soccer a fair trade game, a fun game and made more people want to play it.

Soccer was for everyone in the world. Everyone should play it and get better so we can have more soccer superstars. Some countries did soccer every day, that’s all they thought about.

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Anthony Costakos

Like Brazil, Germany, and Argentina. Many more play also. This shows how the soccer ball was a hero to all kind of things. It made people more happy and everyone wanted to be around it. One day the Ontario team saw the soccer ball laying around on the ground. The soccer ball talked to them and said do you want to kick me around and play soccer. Everyone screamed “YA!!!” They just played soccer and trained for Internationals. After what the soccer ball told them and trained super hard, they won Internationals. That’s what confidence, talking and little boosts can do to a team. The soccer ball just made soccer a fair trade game, a fun game and made more people want to play it.

Soccer was for everyone in the world. Everyone should play it and get better so we can have more soccer superstars. Some countries did soccer every day, that’s all they thought about. Like Brazil, Germany, and Argentina. Many more play also. This shows how the soccer ball was a hero to all kind of things. It made people more happy and everyone wanted to be around it.

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Bad World Gone Good By: Alexandra Cuzick

I was lying on my pinebush when I heard Pedro come over to do his daily picking from the emerald-green field. I watched him pick some other pineapples as his mum was collecting eggs from the chickens. She was wearing a dirty dress with a torn blouse.

Pedro came to the field every day to pick at least seventy pineapples to get his family enough money to have supper. If he’s lucky, Pedro will earn 20¢ a day. Unfortunately, There has been a big drought and most of the pineapples are not growing normally, so Pedro has earned 5¢ lately.

The day has passed and Pedro walked slowly back to his cabin as he held his 5¢ in the palm of his hand. I shut my eyes to rest as I watched Pedro’s mum welcome him home with the constant agony in her eyes. This was my daily life cycle; seeing Pedro like this, suffering without a father. I had hated this. I wanted to change things but I couldn’t. I was just a lonely, helpless pineapple.

I opened my eyes to the bright, hot Brazilian sun blazing down on me when I realized that there was a little coupon on the ground. I looked a little to my left and it said “Fairtrade”, I thought it couldn’t be that helpful. I kept reading.“It is a better opportunity to raise money for farmers and their families!” I thought about it for a minute and realized that I could help Pedro and his family get good jobs and good educations!

It turned out that the little piece of paper was actually a sticker, so I peeled the wax paper off of the bottom and I stuck the sticker on my crown. Now when I get picked, Pedro will read the sticker and raise more money for his family! Finally, I could help Pedro and his family not suffer the consequences of being poor anymore!

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Alex Cuzick

Years pass and Pedro kept going to Rio de Caprio, with still such little education. Pedro was now almost an adult. Since his father had left for work and had never come back, he was wanting to get a job to take his father's place.

One day, Pedro had come to my bush to pick me. I had checked to see if the Fair Trade coupon was still on my crown. I couldn’t feel it so I started to frantically check my head. It still wasn’t there! Pedro bent down to pick me up and carried me over to a crate of other pineapples.

As I sighed, I spotted something out of the corner of my eye. The sticker! It was on the ground but it was too late; I was already loaded on to the truck. I tried to push the crate over but it was too heavy. I tried again and I stumbled to the ground along with some of the pineapples that are being shipped, too.

Pedro rushed over to brush off the dirt on the other fruit and I, but then he noticed the sticker and picks it up from the ground. As he read it I can see his face light up with joy. He dropped the pineapple back in the crate and ran to his mum. As I watched the door close to his house, I heard his mother scream and burst into tears. His mum jumped and had given Pedro a big hug. I was so happy because he could switch to Fairtrade and eventually go to a better school. Then, he can then become the doctor he always wanted to be! I guess Fairtrade is really helpful to poor people around the world. Pedro struts back out of his house and puts all of the pineapples including me back in the crate and starts the truck.

As we started to head off on our long journey, I wondered what the world would be like if everybody switched to fair trade. I bet it would be a ton better.

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Sports Balls Story By: Christos Greer The fair trade soccer ball was being made in Pakistan. Around him (the ball), the people seemed very happy because they were able to support their lifestyle. Out the window, the ball could see kids playing soccer. These were the workers’ kids, and they looked like they were happy as well. Around him it seemed like lots of peace and he thought that all balls were made like this.

After he went on many ships, the soccer ball was placed onto a store shelf next to a non fair trade soccer ball (and many others). They started comparing their experiences with each other. “I was made very well by my workers,” said the non fair trade ball.

“Yeah, me too,”said the fair trade ball, “My workers seemed very joyful”.

“Mine didn’t really seem like that,” said the non fair trade ball.

“Also, mine seemed to have a happy life,” said the fair trade ball.

“Not mine,” said the non fair trade ball. “I’ll tell you how I was made.”

“I was made in a factory in Pakistan. The workers seemed very depressed and had to work very long hours in a smokey factory. When they were paid, they seemed even more depressed because they weren’t getting paid much. Even the kids didn’t look happy. They couldn’t even do anything. They didn’t even have a school to go to. All they could do was try to find clean enough water to drink.

After going on many journeys by ship, I end up here,” said the non fair trade ball.

“I didn’t know that most balls were made like that,” the fair trade ball said. “I hope the kids get a school and the workers get more pay.”

“Well…,” said the non fair trade ball, “I hope that happens soon.”

“I hope so too,” said the non fair trade ball.

All the other balls on the shelf heard the conversation and hoped that it happened soon too.

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The Chocolate Egg By: Mimi Hodaie

Sometimes we forget how things are made, like me. So much time and work just goes into just m I’m a chocolate egg. *** “Billy, come and get your prize,” said his mother. After a long day of Easter egg hunting, Billy was excited to see what his prize was. “Sit still,” said his mother. When Billy ripped open his prize, his face was illuminated with happiness. In the middle of the ripped paper lay a small chocolate egg. “I love it,” said Billy.

As Billy sat down on the grass, he felt some kind of shaking in his pocket. He knew that it was just the movement of him sitting down. But, when he took the chocolate egg out of his pocket, a face had appeared on it. With confusion, he tried to wipe of the face but it just would not come off! The face started to twitch. Billy was confused as to why there was a face on his chocolate egg. “Hello,” said the chocolate egg. With a smile on his face, Billy wondered what was the story of the chocolate egg.

“Hello, what’s your story?”

“I’m not sure if you want to hear my story,” said the egg. “It’s a pretty sad one.”

Billy said, “Go ahead. I want to hear it, I’m listening.”

“I was born in a big factory. Thousands of my brothers and sisters were made from cocoa powder,” continued the egg. “Cocoa powder is our main ingredient. Cocoa powder is made from ripe cocoa beans. They are cut open to get the white pulp out that has the cocoa beans in it. The problem is that a lot of labour goes into getting these beans. Some of the workers get paid only 75 cents an hour!”

Billy was frightened. “How could making a harmless egg involve so much hard work with so little pay.”

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Mimi Hodaie “I don’t know, but the story goes on. The the cocoa beans and the pulp are put in large wooden containers and are left to dry and ferment for 5 to 7 days. This gives most of the flavour to the cocoa beans. Next, the beans are left out to dry while the workers have to spread them out in the hot sun until the beans are in one layer. This way they all get dried.”

“How could the workers have to work in such bad conditions?” said Billy.

“They are forced to work because they need to get money for a better ,lifestyle but they barely get paid!” said the chocolate egg. “Then the next step is done by the chocolate egg maker, rather than the farmer, but the hot climate required to grow cocoa makes the chocolate egg making process more challenging. Most chocolate is made in cooler climates.”

“So, don’t the workers have to work harder to make the chocolate eggs faster?” said Billy.

“That’s right,” said the chocolate egg. “Then the cocoa beans are crushed and the shells are removed.The lighter shells are blown away with fans, leaving behind pieces of pure pieces of cocoa. Then the pieces of cocoa are crushed and become paste,” said the chocolate egg.

“Then, sugar is added to the paste and the paste is put into molds shaped like me, to harden.”

“But, what about the people who made you? What’s in it for the workers?” said Billy.

“That’s why I’m so sad! I feel terrible for the people who made me!” said the chocolate egg.

“Wait a second,” said Billy, “I read on the news that there is a more friendly way to make chocolate products.”

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Mimi Hodaie

“Please tell me! Tell me now!” said the chocolate egg.

“It’s called fair trade. All the workers who make the chocolate products get paid fairly!” said Billy.

“Send me back to the factory so I can go and tell my brothers and sisters!”

“Ok, I would love to!”

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The Cocoa Cycle By: Julia Kirsh The Mama Tree was weeping that day, her breaths were heavy, as a single tear slowly fell down her branch into the soil below. Her poor Cocoa Babies were being taken away from her and would never return home. She tried to hold onto them as tight as she could, pulling them back into the tree. The farmer was picking her babies off, one by one, that day. The Mama Tree didn’t win the fight. Almost all of her babies were torn off her branches. She reached out to hug them with tears streaming down her trunk. She opened her mouth as wide as she could and yelled, “Goodbye,” before her babies disappeared over the vanishing hill. She cried so much that month, that her beautiful leaves turned a dark,muddy brown.

The Mama Tree continued to cry, until one day a little girl came to sit down under her leaves for some shade and to get away from the scorching hot sun. Suddenly, she felt teardrops rushing down on her like a waterfall. The little girl looked up and saw the Mama Tree weeping so much that she was unable to speak. Her eyes were full of tears and she was breathing heavily as her tears fell down her branches. The little girl said, “What’s wrong?” looking at her dirty, muddy, brown hands.

The Mama Tree said to the little girl, ”My babies all got yanked from me,” sniffling and blowing her nose as she talked.

The little girl said, ”It’s okay. Here, let me tell you about the journey your babies are taking,” while looking high up into the deep, cloudy, blue sky. The Mama Tree began to visualize everything the little girl told her.

“First, your babies are laid in the hot burning sun, getting a tan. Next, they change into beautiful, light brown colour leaving their old skin behind. After, they are all mixed together into a soft, brown liquid. Afterwards, your babies get moulded into a bar of chocolate. The best part is that your babies are being used for fair trade which means that they are helping farmers get paid fairly for their cocoa beans. The farmers get paid a good amount of money so they can feed their family. Your Cocoa Babies’ final destination is being brought into a delicious, chocolate store filled with yummy chocolate bars,” the little girl told the Mama Tree.

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The Mama Tree felt a little bit better having somebody to talk to.“Now you know the cycle of where your babies journey from the start to the end,” said the little girl. You are helping contribute to the world again and again, by continuing to make cocoa beans for your farmers”.

“You will always be attached to your Cocoa Babies, but the memories you share with them will last a lifetime. When you feel sad, just remember the good times you’ve shared with your babies and how your babies have grown up,” said the little girl. The Mama Tree said, “Thank you so much. You’ve made me realize how important I am to the cocoa cycle and how I contribute so much to the world. I will cherish my moments with my babies. Every time my Cocoa Babies leave, I’ll make new memories with my new babies.”

The Mama Tree got through the tough, heartbreaking time with the help of the little girl. Now, every two years, the little girl came to visit the Mama Tree to remind her of the importance of letting her Cocoa Babies go so she could help the world in many ways.

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Brownie’s Adventure By: Steve Lu

I, Brownie, the cocoa pod, always wanted to be a fair trade product and stay in the Ivory Coast.

However, life can be awesome but not perfect. That day I was just minding my own business when Bob the farmer trudged over to collect cocoa pods like me. Although Bob was leaning over and dragging his feet, he still hummed his usual songs. As he came over to chuck my friends below, his machete shook the tree as if there was an earthquake.The noise was horrible! I never imagined the noise when I saw Bob gathering other cocoa pods. When he was about to get me down, Bob kicked the tree and the next thing I knew, I was falling into the river with Bob looking at me helplessly. Noooooooo!!!!!!! Help me!! And that started a whole new chapter.

The river rushed over me as I tried to resurface and breathe. It was almost impossible! Finally, the current wasn’t so strong and I was able to bob along in the river. Really, the view from the river was a beautiful sight, but I missed home badly. From where I was, I could see some houses clumped together; I think they are called villages. I didn’t dare to climb up the shore because if the people from the village saw me, they would eat me. With nothing to do, I tried to entertain myself.

Counting trees, counting sheep, how many ripples in the water and much more.

After what felt like centuries, I finally saw some kind of modern houses made out of square bricks.

Everything was pretty quiet except for the cry of the mutt-like animals in the back of the houses.

They were pretty scary, I thought, and that kept me floating in the water.

Afterwards, the houses became taller and taller and turned into… buildings? It was getting dark then so at least no one would see me. The lights in the buildings popped up like birds back in my forest. Oh man, I couldn’t think of home! It made me so sad!!! I was passing through this unfamiliar place that was full of stinky gray things that were spread all over the ground. Whoa! There were cars around here!!! I saw those way back at home. Maybe I could get home in one of those. Wait a second! The people in those cars would eat me too! I just stayed in the river for safety.

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Steve Lu Couple of hours later…

Oh my god, the plants were so beautiful! It was at least like the seventh day in the same river and I had arrived at a totally different world where the trees were unlike anything I’d seen before.

Cautiously, I rolled out of the river to explore a bit and to find a way home. Rotating through the forest, I noticed giant hogs in the distance and they noticed me too!!! Then they started pursuing me! Since I couldn’t roll so fast, I hid behind some tall grass and chilled. I suddenly found an unobstructed forest path that led to a clearing. In the clearing there was an old burlap sack just lying there. It looked exactly like the ones Bob used to carry! Seeing it set off a spark in my head and I thought that I could get back home by hiding in the sack! So, I spun myself towards it into the darkest corner of the sack and waited happily.

I fell asleep but woke up because someone had thrown the sack on to the back of some roomy vehicle which moved really quickly down a long hill. When we halted, I could hear the boats’ whistles and I could smell the seaweed. I was at a harbour!!!! Then, I didn’t feel the cold metal beneath me. I knew I was going to get carried on to a ship. Once again, they threw me on a platform, so I waited for a long time until the ship’s whistle blew. And, we set off.

Forever and ever later, the ship I was in stopped and I remained still as the man carried the bag out of the ship and dumped me onto the ground. I didn’t want to get out because I was unfamiliar with the grounds. I carefully rolled out of the bag and looked around. Wait a second… I knew this place! This was the forest I came from! I crept closer to the village and I even heard Bob’s voice!

But Bob was not happy. I could hear him crying! He was also muttering things like, “Why did I even agree to the debt? This no-good company is not fair trade and now I couldn’t even feed my family!!” Whoa there! Pause. Ok, so what did Bob mean by not fair trade? I snuck even closer and I heard the words: “Fair trade is so good! The company and farmers get equal wages and the plants are treated better.” No!! I was not treated better? But Bob was so nice to me! Then, a light bulb flicked on in Brownie’s head. I could go on an adventure, explore and find a fair trade farm where they will take care of me! With that being said, I just jumped into another stream. And that is a beginning at an end.

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More Precious than Silver By: Avery Moorhead Humans believe that I am very precious and that is why I had one dream, to become a ring on someone's finger. You will see that all is not what it seems.

My name is Gold. This is my story.

For as long as I have been around, I have wanted to be a precious ring on someone’s finger. The humans, though, have never found me and I still wait here day by day, night by night.

One dark and rainy day, I could hear a loud rumbling maybe 15 metres away from me. Then I saw them, the workers. Clad in a brown tee shirt with some blue shorts. They did not look very happy, I thought. There was one man who came up to me with beautiful, brown, almond eyes, but still he had an extremely sad look on his face. He shouted, then I saw these red circular bottle shaped things with the words TNT written in black lettering near me.

The next thing I knew, I exploded everywhere.

This was so scary, but I knew my dream was finally coming true! There came lots of men, maybe 20-30 of them, all wearing the same brown shirt and blue shorts. They looked like an army! Still, none of them looked happy as they began to pick up every little piece of me.

After about an hour,I was completely loaded into a silver-grey cart. Slowly, I a went up and up. It felt like I was on a rollercoaster with its swift movements as it turned right and left.

Finally, the ride was almost over, but it felt like an eternity! As I approached the top I began to see sunlight for the first time! Wow, it felt like a god shining down with all of its mighty power! Once again there were more workers, but they looked very scrawny and hungry. Now, they pushed my cart away into a blue 18 wheeler truck where I saw many other silver carts. I was as excited as a lion is for its prey, but I did not feel like talking to anyone.

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Avery Moorhead After a short, maybe maximum 15 minute ride, I could feel the truck halt. I was starting to think I would never be a gold ring because of all the traveling!

I think I was wrong though, because I was dumped with all the other carts into a giant black conveyor belt! After a little traveling, I began to see in the distance a giant grey machine that was making these horrific noises! As I reached the machine, I began to be crushed by its sharp claws. Now, If I wasn’t in enough pieces I was in more! This happened several more times until I reached the end of the conveyor belt.

As I reached the end, I was put into to another silver coloured cart, but this time it was much bigger!

Then for about 30 seconds I was driven on rail to another room. It was very, very hot in this room and I was poured by a man into a huge round jar. I was `starting to feel hot! Suddenly, I was starting to melt down. Now I was screaming my head off because I thought I would die! Well, luckily that didn’t happen! I was now being poured into a sleek, shiny square mold. I was like a stream rushing down its path!

As I began to cool, I now realised that, “Wow I’m a gold bar, this is amazing!”

For several days I waited and waited! On Friday, there were tons of workers around me and I soon was loaded with about a hundred gold bars into a bright orange container. We were now taken to a sleek silver plane with gold writing. I could not make out what it all said, but I did see the letters JARLI. I could tell that it was not the whole logo but I knew it started with that.

On the plane I met another gold bar named Georgia. I introduced myself and asked her where she was from.

“Hi, I’m from The East Rand Mine! My workers were amazing! They were so happy and delighted to be doing their job!” she said.

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Avery Moorehead As I began to cool, I now realised that, “Wow I’m a gold bar, this is amazing!”

For several days I waited and waited! On Friday, there were tons of workers around me and I soon was loaded with about a hundred gold bars into a bright orange container. We were now taken to a sleek silver plane with gold writing. I could not make out what it all said, but I did see the letters JARLI. I could tell that it was not the whole logo but I knew it started with that.

On the plane I met another gold bar named Georgia. I introduced myself and asked her where she was from.

“Hi, I’m from The East Rand Mine! My workers were amazing! They were so happy and delighted to be doing their job!” she said.

“That’s strange! My workers were sad and gloomy! I said confused.

“What we they wearing? My workers were wearing lots of equipment so they were as safe as possible!” she curiously asked.

“My workers were just wearing a t-shirt and shorts! That sounds so unsafe now that I think of it!” I replied slowly.

“Did you see a school at your mine? I could hear how happy my workers were because they had a school for their children!” she asked inquisitively.

“No. Not at all! I definitely did not see any sign of a school. There were just children walking around all day!” I said sadly

Now I started to realize, my workers were treated horribly! I had heard that all human kids go to school! When I think about it, I don’t want to be a ring on someone’s finger anymore! Not when even children can’t go to school!

I have decided. I am not going to be ring on anyone’s finger. No.

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Avery Moorehead

“That’s strange! My workers were sad and gloomy! I said confused.

“What we they wearing? My workers were wearing lots of equipment so they were as safe as possible!” she curiously asked.

“My workers were just wearing a t-shirt and shorts! That sounds so unsafe now that I think of it!” I replied slowly.

“Did you see a school at your mine? I could hear how happy my workers were because they had a school for their children!” she asked inquisitively.

“No. Not at all! I definitely did not see any sign of a school. There were just children walking around all day!” I said sadly

Now I started to realize, my workers were treated horribly! I had heard that all human kids go to school! When I think about it, I don’t want to be a ring on someone’s finger anymore! Not when even children can’t go to school!

I have decided. I am not going to be ring on anyone’s finger. No.

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Soccer Boy By: Bruk Negatu-Makonnen

There was a boy who loved to play soccer with his friends, it was his favourite sport. This boy’s name was Bruk. Bruk had a good life, went to a good school, had a shelter, and good food to eat. One day in class his teacher was talking about fair trade, but all Bruk heard was “blah blah blah trade” and some more “blah blah blah”. Bruk was zoned out until his teacher was talking about soccer. Bruk started listening until the very end. When Bruk returned home, he told his mom all about fair trade soccer balls and, finally, he asked his mom for a fair trade soccer ball. His mom said yes. When Bruk and his mom were at the store, Bruk tried to find a fair trade soccer ball he did not. He and his mom were looking through store after store after store, until they found a fair trade soccer ball. Bruk was asking the manager of the store why there are not many stores that have fair trade soccer balls and the man replied with, “The reason is because if the ball is fair trade, it gives more money to the people that make the soccer ball than the people that sell them.”

Bruk was mad at the stores and started to make a mad face, and was also shocked that stores don't really care that much about the families and people that make the soccer ball. Finally, Bruk bought a fair trade soccer ball and took it home with him. When Bruk was playing with his new fair trade soccer ball, he exclaimed, “I love you soccer ball.”

Then, the soccer ball said, “I love you too!”

Bruk started to jump around because his soccer ball was able to talk. He was now going to name her Tazora. He told all his friends but none of his friends were believing him. Bruk was thinking the whole day how to make Tazora talk again, then he got it, he had to play with his ball. So, he started to kick Tazora, then it started to talk “Hi Bruk, thanks for buying me.”

Bruk said, “You can TALK!?”

Then the ball continued with, “I'm a fair trade ball. People in Pakistan made me. They are suffering.

Can you please help them?”

Then Bruk replied with, “Sure, you will be my sidekick?”

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Bruk Negatu-Makonnen The problem was, that his mom would not let him go, so Bruk hesitated before he stole her credit card, and got his passport, and Bruk and Tazora went to Pakistan. When Bruk and the ball arrived in Pakistan, they were in a city called “Karachi.” They were walking around the city slowly until they found the the mayor. The mayor said, “There are a lot of people in this city who make soccer balls for a living and make little money.” When Bruk heard this, he was determined to stop this and get help for them. So, he and his sidekick were going around the city helping people to get better jobs and when everyone except one person had a good job. He wanted to help one girl the most. This girl’s name is Abida. Abida was making the least amount of money out of everyone and she was only 10.

Bruk and Tazora got her into school, she stopped working and they gave her 100,000 Pakistan Rupees, which in Canadian Dollars is $1237. Abida was so thankful she started to tear up and break down crying. When Bruk came home, he was grounded for 2 weeks by his mom for stealing her credit card and leaving to Pakistan, but while he was in his room with Tazora, he was not satisfied because they were still millions of people working in Pakistan and earning little amounts of money.

So, what he went around Canada raising awareness about fair trade with Tazora and was doing tricks for attention. He did this until he met a man who bought 50 fair trade soccer balls, and at this point, he was excited to go and meet the man with Tazora. They looked this man's name up and his name was William Wu, and he lived at [blank street). So, Bruk and Tazora went to this man’s house, knocked on the door and the man opened the door and said,“What do you want?”

Bruk said,”Tazora and I wanted to thank you for buying 50 fair trade soccer balls.”

The man said, “I did not buy any soccer balls, let alone fair trade soccer balls. You must be thinking of my brother, Alex.”

Bruk asked the man where Alex lived and he said [Blank street]. Bruk and Tazora went to Alex’s house and knocked on the door, but a woman opened the door, not a man. It turned out Alex was at work, and he would come back in around 30 minutes. The woman's name was Ashley. Ashley said “Come in, have a seat. Are you hungry?”

Bruk replied, “No thanks, I’m fine.”

Then Tazora said, “No thank you, I'm fine as well.” Ashley hairs stood up because, Tazora was created by Alex and that was the reason she could talk.

“Alex thought he would never see this ball again” Ashley said. “I’m sure Alex will be surprised you are back,” Ashley said.

[30 minutes later] “Hi honey I'm home, who is this lovely boy,” Alex said.

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Ashley replied with, “This boy’s name is Bruk and he has the soccer ball you created and her name is Tazora, a lovely name.” Alex asked Bruk why he was here and Bruk said because he wanted to thank him for helping a lot of people in Pakistan by buying 50 fair trade balls. Alex said he has a relative in Pakistan working for little money. His name is Ben. I made a soccer ball that could talk to raise awareness. The very next day during school it was show and tell so Bruk brought Tazora, and told the class all about fair trade and persuaded them all to buy a fair trade soccer ball. Even the teacher bought one. The next day Bruk went to Alex's house again and saw someone new. He asked Alex who it was.

Alex said, “This is Ben.” Alex said all those classmates that bought a fair trade soccer ball, and the teacher, plus all the awareness he did, got Ben enough money to move to Canada and live with Alex.

“Thank you Bruk and Tazora. Thank you.”

94

The Truth About Cocoa By: Ben Perko A guy named Jeff was totally interested in cocoa and he wanted to learn more. He always wanted to see where it comes from. He went on to his old and rickety square computer that his mom got him and he searched up where cocoa came from. A bunch of insane places that he had not heard of popped up. One place gave him this crazy feeling that he wanted to go there. That place was the Ivory Coast. He asked his mom if they could get a ticket to go to the Ivory Coast and he said, “Mom, please! We need to go to the Ivory Coast for my project!” His mom said OK, but it took her one billion hours to actually get the tickets. Finally, after she got them, she said that the flight was in only 2 days. For those two days Jeff thought that it would be like a mystery on the Ivory Coast, like the movies! In the morning, his mom shook him awake and it felt like his heart and organs were going to burst out of his body. Jeff crazily screamed, “MOM! that scared me a ton!”

His mom yelled, “The flight is going to leave soon! We need to go!” They packed their bags and got out of that little old house in about 5 minutes. There was no time to wait for a taxi, so his mom got into their truck and left. The good thing about leaving in the morning is that nobody was on the road. When we got there, they said that we had to go to Europe first, then get a connection and fly down to the Ivory Coast. On the flight to Europe, Jeff’s mom kept on talking, and talking, and talking, and talking! Jeff’s nerves were like strings on a violin, about to break. “Finally, that flight to Europe was over!” Jeff thought. On the connector flight to the Ivory Coast it was midnight and Jeff’ s mom was asleep. “This is a better flight,” Jeff muttered. He saw a little glimpse of his mom’s phone. Sneakily, he slowly grabbed his mom’s phone to play with. He played with it for about 3 hours and his eyes were getting so red that you can see . While he was playing, he slowly dozed off into a dark sleep. In the morning he looked out of the window to see where they were and he saw all these forests and jungles. Jeff looked down and they were really close to the ground. We must be close to the Ivory Coast, he thought. When he was looking down at the ground, he saw a dirty, rugged landing pad. “We must be here!,” he yelled out. He heard that he yelled it out too loud and his mother woke up. “Mom, we’re here!,”Jeff said. The plane stopped and everybody got out.

Jeff and his mom got their luggage and got out of there. He heard that he yelled it out too loud and his mother woke up. “Mom, we’re here!,”Jeff said. The plane stopped and everybody got out. Jeff and his mom got their luggage and got out of there.

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Ben Perko His mom said, “We better do this fast, I don't have a lot of time.” His mom found a good cocoa tour so she asked when their next tour would start. They said that there will be another tour in 10 minutes. We ran into the taxi like the fastest runner in the world at the end of the finish line. We got to the tour place and we ran into the bus really quickly. On the tour, we saw some people working with the cocoa. We were allowed to get out of the bus and go to see how they work. Jeff wanted to explore the place more so he went into the jungle. He saw some more people working and they looked younger.

He asked them, “Do you like working in a cocoa farm?”

They responded “No.” Jeff said “Why not?”

They said, “We get 70 west African CFA Franc a week if we're lucky.” Jeff thankfully had his mom’s phone and took it out to search for how much money 70 West African cfa francs were. He was shocked at how little that was, only 14 cents if they're lucky! Jeff thought, iIf they only get this much, all the other people would probably make only that much too! He gave them some leftover candies, chocolates and pieces of bread. He also gave them 50 dollars. The people wolfed that bread down like an anaconda capturing its prey and thanked Jeff for the 50 dollars. They said that 50 dollars would save many people. As they started to leave to show their family what they got, Jeff jumped at them and said, “ Please, I want to know more.” They made a motion with their hand to come toward them. Jeff didn’t realize that the tour bus had already left. As they got further into the forest, they saw some little kids running around playing and then even more people. The people that found Jeff introduced themselves. There was Thomas, Ben, Alex, and Avery. It was getting darker and people were getting their beds ready. Jeff didn’t think that they slept on big leaves. He thought they would at least have something better than that. In the morning, Avery said that breakfast was ready and they had a little bit of bread that Jeff gave them. Jeff started to talk to Thomas, Ben, Alex, and Avery.

“Why do you make such little profit on being a cocoa farmer?” He asked.

They responded, “Because we aren’t fair trade.”Jeff searched up what fair trade meant and it said, “Trade in which fair prices are paid to producers in developing countries.” “So what is non fair trade?”, Jeff asked. Thomas, Ben, Alex, and Avery explained, “It means that bigger companies get their cocoa for a cheaper price and they give us barely any money.” Jeff thought, “If I get this family into fair trade, they will get more money for their family and also they would remember a wonderful guy that helped them.”

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Ben Perko

He searched up fair trade companies to work for and a website called “Slave Free Chocolate” popped up.

Jeff called the number and explained that there were some workers that really wanted to be in fair trade and the company agreed to hire them. He told Thomas, Ben, Alex, and Avery that they would be in a new job soon. He told them to call the rest of their friends and family to get out of the forest and make their way to the tour road. They got out of the forest and looked down the street and saw his mom roaring, “JEFF, JEFF, where were you!” Jeff ran towards his mother and gave her a big hug.

“Jeff, where were you?” “ Long story mom, but we need to drive these poor workers to this place called “Slave Free Chocolate.” His mother said, “ Good thing I’ve got a big rental Caravan!”

Everybody hopped into the vehicle, went to the fair trade place and dropped everybody off there.

They all waved and said thank you. They walked to the entrance and they got led to a shelter in the forest. This was a big home where all of the workers slept. When Jeff and his mother started to leave the place, his mom said,” Tell me all of this on the plane.” “Finally, a good flight,” Jeff thought.

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The Cotton Plant By: Lauren Pollack I, JuJube the cotton plant, have always dreamt of being somebody’s fluffy pillow. My ultimate life goal lies under somebody’s tired head. I am stuck in the dirt filled ground, the closest I have ever been to a massage are the restless worms squirming up and down my stem. I’m an innocent cotton plant that has never committed any crime, yet I am in a jail that is located on a non-fairtrade farm, waiting for a farmer to set me free.

Mr. Jefferson, the farmer, is always saying he isn’t going to harvest me because I would take up too much room in the sack, and then he won’t be able to ship as much cotton. I already feel as if am alone in a dark, smelly sack. It smells like a wet dog and it feels as if my eyes were locked closed and I was blind. In that sack I imagine it’s like Helen Keller, not being able to see or hear, but my smell is much stronger.

A strange girl approached me and declared,“Hey you!”

“Uh?” I replied.

“You, over there!”

“Me?” “Yes, for goodness sake, YOU!” “What do you want?”

“Hi, I’m Natalie.”

“I’m Jujube.”

“Oh, hello Jujube!”

Natalie seemed nice. She was a bit shy at first and our conversation topics were a little boring, but she then told me a lot about how her parents died of disease, and she is under the care of Mr. Jefferson. Well, I wouldn’t really call it care from the way that she described it to me. We actually had a lot in common. We are friends now and for a split second I felt like a real, talking person had hopped into the lonely sack, and gave me the keys to this horrible prison I’ve been living in all of my life. I feel something that I’ve never felt before, I think it’s happiness, but I really don’t know….

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Lauren Pollack

Natalie is awesome! For the next 3 months it felt like like seasons were changing outside somebody’s window. Not once did I reminisce about my jail or the sack. She braided my cotton, poured water on me, she cleaned me and we talked for hours and hours. We were best friends. I taught her how to spell and how to write and read. We had a blast! We both knew what was coming soon, but we didn't want to think about it. We both have roles on this farm and if we didn’t complete them, she would end up just like her parents. She had no choice but to harvest me. My life was over, the sack was right there in her precious arms waiting for me. Nightmares haunted me every night and every day, but I knew it was time.

My journey began sad and lonely. I missed her voice telling me about the first time she caught a ball, I miss her stories and her thoughts. I was released from the sack then I was torn, stretched, tied, untied, knotted, pulled and anything else you could imagine. I guess that was the closest I have ever been to a massage. Afterwards, I was washed, but it wasn’t the same as when poor Natalie rinsed me under the refreshing river water. I saw young women that suffered just like Natalie is suffering right now. Speaking of suffering,I’m pretty sure I lost some of my eyelashes.

At least I am still in my hometown. After a couple of day’s I was put back in the sack labeled WOLLIP. WAIT! It says pillow! I’m a pillow, I’m a pillow! Woohoo! Yeah! If only Natalie could see this.

Before I knew it, I was in the local store where I saw farmer Jon. “Farmer John, Farmer Jon!” “Jujube, what's wrong?”

We spoke for a while and before I knew it, I was in the basket of his mountain bike. I was in a ripped plastic bag that was white. I could see the green letters written in marker that read, The Local Store.

In the bag I also noticed a toothbrush and a water bottle labeled Natalie’s. It took me a while until I realized I was ⅖ kilometers away from reuniting with Natalie! When we arrived at the farm, farmer Jon placed me down on a piece of blue tarp that was wrinkled with water in the dented tarp. That tarp was Natalie’s bed. Within my sight I saw the plastic bag labeled Natalie.

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Lauren Pollack

When the sky became dark with twinkling stars, I watched Natalie walk towards me with tear filled eyes. Each step she took the tears became clearer and bigger. I didn’t know what to say. She sat on her wet tarp and positioned her delicate head on me. She relocated her face from the sky to me.

Each minute more tears fell from her eyes and I knew that in a better world her mom would be there beside her to comfort her, but she wasn’t. I thought to myself, opened my mouth and whispered, “I know you're sad and depressed, but you need your sleep and every night I will be here waiting to comfort you. I am here for your warmth and support. You should know that am Jujube and we will never be separated because I don’t care how wet or ripped I am, you must keep me as your pillow so that I can keep you as my best friend.”

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The Felix By: Ella Rea My earliest memory involved waking up to the sound of humming, seeing a giant bright light in the distance, smelling sweet pollen, and tasting soil and craving water. I could feel the thick humidity in the air. This animal with two arms and two legs shoved me into the ground. I noticed that I was not the the only one being planted and that there were other planters. They all looked very sad and I longed to know why. I wondered if I would grow up to help them. They all left us and the giant bright light slowly shut off.

The next day it started raining outside. It was a nice type of rain, the type that relaxes you and takes away the warmth of the hot sun. I felt as though I had lifted out of the ground as I could now see straight and tall. I was growing, and I could see all the little sprouts surrounding me growing as well.

Eventually, the sprout next to me talked to me. He said he didn’t know what his name was. He asked if we could be friends. What was I supposed to say other than yes? We were stuck and rooted there.

That was the day that the the planters and the thing came. After the planters came back to the field my friend and I decided that we should figure out names for each other. My new name is Zoe and my new friend is Jeff. We both were wondering why these little, black, bugs were crawling on us.

VROOOOM! It came loud overhead spilling some sort of strong smelling rain overtop of us all. I looked up toward the plane and it said N629JP. I could smell some awfully strong odour. I could feel a liquid burning me, but it looked like it was worse for the black bugs.

After it had left I heard a lot of coughing not just from us little sprouts but from the planters. Jeff and I didn’t talk at all the rest of that day but even after I closed my eyes I could still hear all of the planters working and still coughing. I was flabbergasted at how they were still working and it was almost nightfall. When I woke the next morning, they were all gone but I could hear some cracking trees. I ignored them and tried to wake up Jeff to tell him that I had finally figured out a good name for this place. “Jeff wake up,” I shouted just loud enough for him to hear. Finally he woke up.

“Yah what is it?” he asked

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Ella Rea

“I have an idea for the code name, why don’t we make it JP, afterall that’s part of the name that they gave that thing in the sky, and I would think that it stood for Just Poo.” I answered, “Oh yeah your right. It probably does stand for that.” He recalled. All of a sudden CRAACK. The big tree next to us cracked open and a huge yellow thing popped out. All of the little sprout acquaintances around me screamed their weak, new, little voices like a dramatic symphony, the 3 foot tall yellow fuzzy thing turned around and just stared at us. He had just broke a tree in half from the stump up. He had four, plump, dark yellow, paw like, fingers on each hand, two, huge, light green eyebrows, and a big, bushy, green moustache in the centre of his face.

He spoke with honesty. The thing said that it was Felix. I thought it was cool that he just popped out of a tree. Felix was a wise thing and he told us all he knew, well, almost all. He told me and Jeff that soon we would grow up to protect the workers. If the company wouldn’t stop spraying pesticides while the workers were in the field, there would have to be more done. He told us that the people who planted us, who grew all of the bigger banana trees around us, and harvested us, all get paid very little for what they do. So little money that some are unable to pay for their children's education, their food, and their homes’ taxes. If we convinced the Fair Trade Labeling Organization (FLO) to give us a fair trade certificate for the company we would all be treated more fairly. Felix stayed with us until the workers came back. They came back humming again and I wondered if the girl who had planted me was with them. As they came close I could see their faces and how they looked sad and mistreated. I decided that I would try and talk to one. “Hey,” I called the girl, she ignored it. “Hello?

You can hear me, right?” I called once more time.

“Who are you? I can’t see you. Who am I talking to?” she asked unknowingly.

“Turn around and look down, and then you’ll see me.” I told her, “Okay then,” she turned around and looked down at the ground and said nothing. “There is nothing here, you tricked me.” She said upset, “No I’m here you just don’t know it you looked past me a bunch of times. I am the foot long sprouting banana tree.”

I told her, “Okay then what do you want to tell me?” she said calmly,

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Ella Rea

“My name is Zoe and one of your workers planted me a couple of weeks ago. I’ve seen what has happened to you with the chemicals, the thing in the sky, I know that you are not being paid fairly by this company, and that there is a bigger company. It’s name is Sparta, who is controlling the amount of money that this company receives which impacts you, and so know I’m here talking to you about if you will let me help you try and make this company a Fair Trade Company? You will be the person who is going to go and try and make this a fair trade company. Do you understand? Oh and what is your name?” I told and asked her.

“My name is Melissa, how exactly am I going to make this a fair trade company?” She asked.

“You're going to have to talk to Felix.” I replied

Melissa talked to Felix and he told her that she needs to go and talk to the manager of this company.

Melissa thought about what she had to do and how she should approach him.

The next day she told us that she was going to drive to the main office and tell him the bargain. While she was gone, I thought to myself what would happen to this company if it wasn’t a fair trade company. I realized that it would be way worse and a lot of people wouldn’t get their way. I really wanted to help a lot of companies to become fair trade but there’s only so much a banana tree can do.

When Melissa came back, she had the most happy look in her eyes. She brought to me a sticker and it said “Fair Trade Bananas.” I was the most happy banana tree ever! “Now we will really be fair trade!” She cried out in joy

A few years later, I went on to make so many other companies fair trade. I saw the company grow to be a great one and the changes in the workers lives. My bananas started being sold. You might have already eaten a couple of those trees’ bananas.

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The Tea By: Grace Renner

In the middle of busy downtown Seattle, three small tins of tea sat on a shelf in a dark coffee shop. All three of them were different brands one was blue with a circle label, and it was black tea, one was purple it had a square label and it was white tea, and one was green it had a triangle label and it was green tea.

The white tea said to green tea, “Why are you crying?”

“Because I'm so very lonely and upset,” she said gloomily.

Now the black tea said, “Well, why don’t you tell us a story, to make you feel better?”

“I am from a small farm up in the Himalayan mountains of India. There were large lush valleys of tea. Lot’s of people worked there but none of them looked like they were treated very well. None of the children went to school. One day, a worker a who was wearing old tattered T-shirt and straw hat picked my leaves and put them in a big burlap sack. My friends I were sold to this man, and The farmer only got a little bit of money for lots of tea! Now I am here in this little tea tin.”

The white tea said, “I'm from a farm in western China. The farm is a place called a co-op. All of the workers are treated very nicely and all the children were sent to school, there was even a hospital on-site! One day a worker, who was wearing leather sandals and a big smile, picked my leaves and put me in a big barrel. Then, another worker put them into sacks,then he sold me to a man who gave him a fair price for all the tea. It’s called fair trade, it’s when the farmers get a fair amount of money for amount of tea that is bought and having good working conditions, well thats what it looked like”.

The black tea said, “You are to of the same products but have very different stories.”

The green tea said “maybe my farm should try this fair trade because they could get a lot more money for their tea”. As the sun rose over the Seattle's fishmarket the three tins of tea went silent. A bell clanged and footsteps walked he said it's going to be a good day.

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The Real Story of Gold By: Michael Sava

Sitting down on my new leather chair as if I was a king of a Nation and this was my throne (which in some perspectives is true), I ran my hands over the wooden, beautifully carved desk, happy as ever.

I started to play with the golden mantle piece saying, “Jonathan Cormac, CEO, Cormac Gold Corporation.” I was astonished that all my hard work brought me on the top of the pyramid of gold refining, mining, selling, and manufacturing. And I started from the very bottom of the pyramid, not even considered in the pyramid unless you counted the people in the basement mailroom. “Ohh what a happy day!” repeated the voice inside my head, “My wife is so thrilled, and she will be even more happy to see the ring I bought her for this occasion!” I joyfully said in a whisper, “I hope Maria likes what I got her.” A fancy black gift box sealed with a red ribbon was sitting in front of me on my desk. I was happy to see it looked as I ordered but something was missing. Hmmm. Ahh the card!

As I started attaching the card to the gift box, the box started vibrating. Curious, I carefully opened the box to see what’s making all that noise. When I opened the lid, a finely refined, shiny, gold ring flies passed me onto my desk. “Finally, that box of yours was so cramped!” said the gold ring.

“Did you just speak?” I reply.

“Of course I speak, we all do if you, humans, just listen,” the gold ring answered.

“But that’s impossible, you’re an inanimate object, lifeless, dead!” I started ranting.

“Do I look lifeless?” the gold ring said casually while flying around in circles. As I recovered from the shock and strangeness of the situation, I try to figure out the reason why only now a piece of gold started talking to me. I should have known that gold has a voice, I’m the owner of a gold corporation! “Why of all times did you talk now, even though I’ve seen billions of other pieces of gold in my life?” I question.

“Ahh, right down to business you go,” the gold ring said, “That’s what all the other gold companies and corporations do, business by denying the human rights, no sustainability to the environment and people, no chances of survival for small and poor communities, affecting the health of millions of people! And the big question is why? Why would people do this? Because it’s cheaper, easier, it’s not their problem, and the big gold companies are getting richer every day!”

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Michael Sava I didn’t have the slightest idea about these serious problems because the previous owner of the gold corporation, my mentor, obviously kept all of this away from the public’s eye in order to make more money. I felt sick and guilty. “What can I do to help?” I responded weakly.

“Listen!” the gold ring says casually, “Listen and open your eyes to these occurring problems, and respond with actions to fix these issues. I will tell you my story.”

“Ok, I will listen,” I say as I recline on my leather chair that no longer makes me feel like a king of a happy kingdom, more like a king of a dystopian society with riches only available to me.

“It all started in a dark, gloomy mine, somewhere in Africa, not sure exactly which mine.

Unfortunately,they are all the same. I was just a little piece of gold ore encased in the rock. Chemical polluted water was dripping down the walls and with each pitter patter, destroyed the environment little by little, poisoning the soil around me. All of a sudden, the sound of people getting down into the mine came through the mine shaft. No happy voices, no laughs, no hopes, just the sounds of exhausted miners, dragging themselves to work hard for the benefit of the rich gold companies.

Daylight reflected through shaft and shone on me. Will I finally be picked? Will I be made into one of those fine gold rings or a monarch crown? A little boy, around the age of six, walked down my way.

He was malnourished, cut, bruised, wearing no protective gear, no flash light to guide his way, only a rusty pickaxe in one hand and a makeshift chisel in the other one. Suddenly, he saw me and his face lit up with hope. He started to attack the rock above me with his beyond repair pickaxe. After an hour or so (being a gold piece in an ore vein I wouldn't have a watch) the stone gave way with a terrible sound. I could not wait to see how the outside world looked! As soon as my happy thought popped up, a rumbling began and the tunnel partly collapsed on top of the little boy, injuring him badly. The mines were constantly collapsing because of the lack of resources and equipment needed to reinforce the tunnels. Before long, men and women quickly came down the tunnel to aid the injured child. His parents were crying with desperation in their eyes and sorrow in their hearts.

They knew that they had no medication to help their little one, just some dirty bandages to cover the wound.

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Michael Sava They didn’t even have alcohol to disinfect these wounds! It appears that the child broke his right arm and leg, two ugly looking open fractures that could bring on infections, gangrene and amputations, if not death!! His family was losing his meager daily wages, plus no medical insurance, and no money for better food or medicine. This was everyday life for the miners here and all over Developing countries. The father of the child looked my way and back at his son lying on the ground, passed out because of the pain. He picked me up and brought me to surface in the same time with his injured child. I looked around and saw few dilapidated shacks where the miners lived through the remnants of a mighty forest, now destroyed by the irresponsible way of mining. Once inside his shack, the father put his son on the rags that served as the bed and turned to me. He brought out a bright, transparent, crystal gem and started chanting a wish about how I should come alive and convince people to give these communities and miners a better life by joining the Fairtrade/Fairmined co-operation. The crystal glowed and exploded with a ear shattering crack and a light came into me.

Then he picked me up and started walking down a dirt path. After a few long hours, he arrived at a processing station in the closest town.

The town was in disrepair as the miners were not the only ones suffering. Because these communities were so dependent on the gold income they were not getting, the towns and cities slowly died because the lack of maintenance. “Good bye and good luck,� he said hopefully when he handed me to the guy working at the processing station. His ripped shoes, slashed shirt, muddied pants, and hazel -brown eyes slowly left my field of vision as he walked away from the facility down the dirt path. The man who had me in his hands put me on a conveyer belt for me to begin my refining process. As I moved on the rickety conveyor belt, I saw through a dirty window that there was a hole in the earth where people dump all the used chemicals, unable to dispose of them properly. The people handling the chemicals were mostly bare handed, touching them even though they were at risk of death or disease. I was soon put into a machine and broken down into small cornflake pieces, and doused in chlorine to get purified. I went through another process using electrolysis and chloroauric acid to purify me even more. I couldn't see anything, but I felt myself slowly being shaped into a beautiful ring, engraved and cut to perfection, then manually attached jewels and diamonds. I came out feeling as if I was reborn! They put me in a huge box and shipped me on a long voyage by truck and ship. The whole ride was dark, bumpy, and rough. Finally, my crate was opened and light flooded in. I saw that I was in a jewelry store in Canada, seeing the

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Canadian flag and the Canadian coins and bills in the drawer. Then, I saw a big, colorful, poster that caught my eye saying “Gregerson Gold Corporation is now the Cormac Gold Corporation.” Curious, I continued to read. “Derek Gregerson retires and gives his position to the rising star in the gold business, Jonathan Cormac.” I pondered what was so important about that poster. Deep in thought I barely noticed the clerk putting me inside a jewelry box. I suddenly remembered the miner’s chanting words, about how he hoped for me to improve the lives of millions of people by convincing big corporations and customers to join Fairtrade/Fairmined movement. Fate or magic brought me to “Cormac Gold Corporation” to meet you and tell you my story and the story of many other gold pieces.”

“Wow, I never knew I was causing so much harm,” I sighed ashamed of myself and my ignorance.

“Well, it’s not too late to take action,” said the gold ring. “You can change the lives of so many people if you join Fairtrade/Fairmined and learn the right way of mining.”

I grab the phone, to get in touch with Fairtrade/Fairmined representatives. Told them I would like to sign up and work together using their ways of mining, processing, sustainable mining, and that I would make sure my miners and their communities where getting their needs met.

Back at the mine in Africa, the man was checking on his son who was feeling much better now that he could buy him medicine, take him to the doctor, and feed him well enough. “How are you feeling today, Abioye?” the father asked.

“I’m feeling much better, Papa,” the child said, “Thank you for using your special crystal on that piece of gold for me.”

“Anything for you,” the father said. Just as the father turned to leave the child says, “Papa.”

“Yes?” the father replied. “Do you think the gold piece will continue to help us?” the child questioned.

“Yes, but now it is time for humans to take actions themselves,” and with that statement the father left.

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Fair Trade Bananas By: Joseph Schatzker The world isn’t entirely fair. It never has been. The world has witnessed things like slavery and discrimination. Now, the world has consumerism where only a few sides benefit. The other sides suffer and live in poverty. There are some enormous industries, The gold industry, coffee industry, sports ball industry and the fruit industry. I am a part of the fruit industry. I am a banana.

I come from a place where the workdays never seem to end. The workers are never joyful, and the land is dying from a plague of chemicals. I hate this place. The chemicals are like thieves trying to steal the air from your lunges. The workers were like a miserable rainy day that never ended. They almost never had clean clothes and the bosses were corrupt and holding them in debt.

The farm next to us was a fair trade farm. The workers were not super joyous but they were a lot more cheerful and had nice clean clothes. The chemicals were not as unpleasant and the land was nice. The bosses were friendly and nice and give the workers a good amount of money.

I am now on the plane being shipped to a new world and I think I should sleep through the lengthy flight from Latin America to the U.S.A. I hope it’s a long flight. I am exceptionally tired.

I woke up to a loud shuffling so I opened my eyes. There were people grabbing the box I was in and putting other boxes on a trolley. All the other bananas were screaming. I was one of them. This was the start of our demise. The workers were now moving the trolley away. I tried to relax but I couldn’t.

Suddenly, we hit a big bump and some of us went airborne. After the big bump the ride became a lot smoother and we all stopped screaming. This time more smoothly, the workers lifted our boxes up and put us on a the ground. At least I thought it was the ground until we started to move very slowly, uphill. We all were kind of scared but also kind of excited seeing as we were on a roller coaster.

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Joseph S. Then the fun stopped and we were once again, lifted away and onto a truck. The truck started its engine and we started to move. We were on the road for a about four hours.

We finally came to a stop and our box was lifted up again. For the first time in about a week, the box was opened. The sunlight hurt and the clouds didn’t do much to help. We were being carried into a door where they put us into a big machine. The machine was full of water and was labeled, “Cleaner o tron-9000”. This must be where they were going to clean us.

They then poured us into the “Cleaner o tron-9000” and turned it on. We started spinning so quickly I barely had a chance to prepare myself for the end sequence where it suddenly stopped. They started to scoop us out and load us into new, fresh boxes. I heard a loud beeping noise and saw this giant machine coming to get our box with these long prongs reaching out towards our box, coming to lift us onto a new truck. The truck began its engine again and started moving. The drive this time was very brief.

The truck stopped and I looked at the large logo and name outside the building. It said, “Munch Munch Foods”. They started to unload us and carry us inside. We had to wait while they figured out how much the workers would get paid for delivering us here. After that they took us from our boxes and put us on the shelves. About an hour later someone came and picked me and some of my friends up. I guess we were going home with this person to be eaten.

I don’t think I should be eaten. I am a product that came from an unfair place in an unfair world from people who are treated unfairly. I wonder if the world will ever know my story or care.

One day they might know and I hope they switch to fair trade where the workers are treated fairly. Then I hope the world will finally be fair.

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HECTOR’S JOURNEY BY: SEUMAS SHERIDAN

Once there was a pile of Brazuca pieces. Their name was Hector. Hector always wanted to be a soccer ball in the World Cup. He was waiting his turn to get made into a ball when he noticed the man who was making them had a long face and droopy eyes. Hector also noticed that the man’s hands were red and close to bleeding. As Hector was being picked up, he thought about all the fun it would be to see soccer’s biggest stars. As Hector was being put together, he noticed it hurt a bit, but he thought the pain was worth being a soccer ball in the World Cup. Since Hector was on the plane from Sialkot to Rio De Janeiro, he noticed that he was in a box of other soccer balls and beside him there was a box of fairtrade balls. One of the balls from the fair trade box asked what they were going to do in Rio De Janeiro. They said they were going to the World Cup. The fair trade balls said that only non fair trade balls got to go to the World Cup. They also asked if they noticed the man who put them together was sad or his fingers were bloody. The Brazucas (World Cup balls) replied “Yes, his fingers were red and his face was droopy and his eyes had bags.”

The fair trade balls said “ The reason is because the worker gets below minimum wage and he gets paid by each ball he makes which makes him work longer hours to support his family.”

Hector kept on asking himself what the difference was between fairtrade and non fair trade. It was like the fair trade balls had read his mind because they said, “Fair trade workers get paid equal to or more than minimum wage. They also get paid by hour so they are more relaxed about making balls.”

Hector realized how important fair trade was and the major differences between non fairtrade and fairtrade balls. Hector bounced up and saw out the window that they were close to landing. He saw kids in the streets playing soccer. As soon as Hector landed, a man walked in, took the box of balls going to the World Cup and he picked them up and walked out. When they were outside, they saw Cristo Redentor or Christ the Redeemer.

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The balls were really happy to be going to the World Cup, but they started thinking about the fair trade balls and where they were going. He thought they would go to a store and they would be ordered online and shipped to a house, apartment, arena or a school. When Hector saw the bus going to the World Cup, he was so happy he felt like he had won the lottery! As Hector got put on the bus, he saw kids running and playing in the streets. Hector wondered if it would hurt to get kicked around and hit posts. On the ride he saw many soccer balls but not one fair trade ball. He could hear the people talking about the World Cup and who they thought was going to win, most bets were on Brazil or Germany. Hector was imagining being kicked around and how fun it would be to zip through the air. Hector was sitting in a room waiting when suddenly, the room was flooded with light and a man in a bright yellow shirt and black shorts came in and picked him up. Hector could feel how hard the man was squeezing him, it hurt more than being put together. Hector could see the field and all the players from Croatia and Brazil. He could see Neymar, David Luiz, Thiago Silva, Luka Modrić, and Júlio César. As soon as Hector was put on the ground and the whistle was blown, he felt feet smashing his back forward. He realized he was being dribbled up the field. Hector noticed how much it hurt to be dribbled up the field. When Croatia was dribbling up the field and they shot, it hurt a lot and then he hit Marcelo’s foot and deflected past Júlio César. Croatia had scored, Hector could hear the Croatian fans screaming and the Brazilian fans looking down with depressed eyes and a gloomy look. Hector was getting used to the pain, but it still hurt a lot. The game went on and Neymar scored 2 goals 1 off a penalty shot and Oscar scored 1 goal in injury time in the 91st minute. Brazil ended up winning that game 3-1. The Brazilian fans were roaring like wild lions. After the game, the referee picked Hector up and took him back to the room and put him in water to take the scuffs from being kicked. Hector was hurting all over. It felt like a herd of rhinos had stampeded him multiple times.

Hector was thinking to himself how much the next game would hurt or if it wouldn’t hurt as much.

Later, the referee came in and said, “Another game for Brazil to win!”

Hector thought that was weird since the game was Brazil vs Mexico and referees are supposed to be neutral.

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The game hurt just as much as the last and he even hit the post it felt like he was lying down and a meteor slammed into his back. The final score was 0-0. The game had hurt so much that Hector decided when the man put him in the room, he would roll out. When the man picked him up and walked over to the room Hector thought about telling everyone about fair trade. Hector was then put in the dark room. Then, when he left, Hector rolled away and tried to find someone. He ran into Lionel Messi, the Argentine soccer star. When he bumped into him, Messi looked down and saw Hector and picked him up. As Messi picked Hector up,Hector said, “Hi, my name is Hector and I’m a soccer ball.”

Messi jumped back and dropped Hector straight on his face. Hector said in a muffled voice, “Hey that hurt!”

Messi replied, “Sorry, I didn’t know you could talk.

Hector said, “It’s ok.”

Messi asked, “Weren’t you just in the game?”

Hector explained his journey and what the difference between fair trade soccer balls and non fair trade balls was to Messi. Messi told Hector that something had to be changed and that maybe he could start a campaign for all soccer balls including the World Cup balls to be fair trade. Messi asked FIFA about a deal to FIFA to make the 2018 World Cup balls fairtrade. FIFA accepted the proposal and then Messi asked Adidas to make fair trade soccer balls for a sponsorship. Then, Messi and Hector went to Sialkot and went into the soccer ball factories and told the workers the benefits of fair trade. The workers started to make fair trade soccer balls. Hector also got a fair trade logo stitched on him. Messi went to help the suffering workers. He got all the child workers into school and he also bought all the children school supplies. He also started a charity to raise awareness for fair trade soccer balls. He also helped people all over the world, not just Sialkot

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The Beans By: Ishi Sklenka Baby Bean woke up in the cold, dark, warehouse with thousands of other beans around her. The two farmers were going at it once again.

“We need the money! We can sell the farmers in the next town our worst quality beans and ask them for a good price!” argued Bob who was one of the farmers.

“No! We can use them ourselves!” another farmer yelled.

They yelled and argued like that for a while.

“Fine. We can sell them to the farmers in the next town, but you better be right about this Bob!”the second famer agreed.

“Good. We will leave in an hour,” said Bob.

By then, the whole of the Bean’s family were awake.

“Does that mean that we will be leaving the farm?” asked Baby Bean.

“I don’t think so, Baby Bean,” replied Daddy Bean.

“Daddy, I don’t want to leave the farm,” said Baby Bean.

“Yeah, I love it here,” agreed Sister and Brother Bean.

“We can’t control where we go, the farmers don’t understand us and to them we are nothing but coffee beans,” Grandpa Bean added.

An hour later they were split up into two bags and taken into the area that was going to be taken to the next town to trade. They had been stuffed inside straw bags along with lots and lots of other coffee beans.

Everything was going smoothly until one of the farmers, Bill, decided that they shouldn’t do this so he took some of the bags and put them into a different area that was going to the company that was buying some beans.

“Ok, we will take 200 bags for $1.50?” the owner of The Little Coffee Shop said.

“Ok, that’s fine,” Bob agreed.

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Ishi Sklenka Wait! We have a few more bags and they are high quality!” shouted out Bill, who was running up to them.

“Ok well, I will take 207 of them then. How does $2.00 sound?” the buyer said, sounding confused.

“It sounds amazing!” Bill answered before Bob could even get a word in.

Bill and Bob loaded the 207 bags onto his truck and he drove off. Little did they know that Baby, Sister and Daddy Bean had been one of the 207 bags that was loaded onto The Little Coffee Shop’s truck. Bob and the first farmer got into the truck for the next town and left. After a long 2 hours they finally got to the town.

“Hello Jim! We are here to sell you some of our finest quality of beans.”

“Great I will take them all!” Jim responded.

They made the deal that Bob promised the first worker. They loaded the coffee bags out of the truck and into Jim’s warehouse. Jim thanked them and they went their separate ways. Meanwhile, Mummy, Brother and Grandpa Bean were in Jim’s wearhouse, Baby, Sister and Daddy Bean were at the factory for The Little Coffee Shop. They went back to the farm. Daddy, Sister and Baby Bean were tossed onto another truck and taken the The Little Coffee Shop.

“Daddy, are we going to be ok?” asked Baby Bean.

“Yes, Don’t worry Baby Bean, we will be fine. Close your eyes and sleep, we have a long journey ahead of us,” said Daddy Bean.

It had been 7 peaceful hours until...

“DADDY! WAKE UP WE’RE HERE! WE ARE AT THE COFFEE SHOP!” Shouted out Baby and Sister Bean.

“Really? Ok, stay with me because we might get lost,” Daddy Bean responded.

It sounded like the doors were slammed open and footsteps followed into the back of the truck. Two workers from Jim’s came in and started taking the bags of coffee and putting them inside the store.

“There are so many bags, lets do this one first,” said, pointing to the bag that Baby, Sister and Daddy Bean were in.

“Hold on!” Daddy Bean shouted.

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They were taken into a coffee shop and put into big glass jars that were stacked on a shelf that said “COFFEE 1 FOR $10 OR 2 FOR $15”. They felt a shock of relief. There was a sign that read The Little Coffee Shop.

“Look! It’s Mummy, Grandpa and Brother! Over there in that jar!” Sister Bean screamed.

“Help!” Brother Bean shouted when he saw them.

Daddy Bean ushered Baby and Sister Bean to follow him to the top of the jar.

“On the count of three, push as hard as you can,” Daddy Bean instructed them.

“One, Two, THREE! PUSH!” Daddy Bean shouted.

They pushed as hard as they could and out popped the top of the jar.

“We are free at last!” celebrated Sister Bean.

They were jumping around and celebrating their great escape from the jar. They forgot about helping Mummy, Brother and Grandpa Bean out of their glass jar because they were too busy celebrating. Meanwhile, Mummy, Brother and Grandpa Bean had seen their escape and did the same thing. They hopped over to Baby, Daddy and Sister Bean and hugged and kissed them. They celebrated for a while and then sat down and exchanged stories on how they got to The Little Coffee Shop.

“It was exactly like the farm, there were workers that were treated poorly and they earned barely enough money to look after their family,” Daddy Bean shared in disgust.

Baby and Sister Bean nodded with disappointment, their arms crossed and their smiles fading.

“What? The workers that we saw were so cheerful and they got more than our farmers would get in two weeks,” Mummy Bean explained.

“That’s unfair. Why should your farmers get a better life than our farmers,” Sister Bean said, sounding confused and upset.

“We can’t do anything about it though, we are just coffee beans,” said Brother Bean.

“Brother Bean is right, but what if we can help them get the money that they deserve? Think about it, if they stopped arguing and sent all of the beans to places like where we went, then maybe they would get a better profit,” said Daddy Bean.

They all agreed. Then they heard arguing in the shop. It reminded them about their farm. Were they ever going to get home and make a change? They didn’t want to be bought and taken home with somebody, they wanted to make a change. They knew that nobody would listen to them because they were just coffee beans.

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Coffee Problems By: WIlliam Wu Hi, my name is Addisu. I am a coffee bean. I was born on a 7 year old coffee tree which I call home in Ethiopia. The tree was nice and helpful, delivering me all my nutrients. The tree was near the fence that split my farm, a Fair Trade one, from another non Fair trade one. I made friends with another coffee bean whose name was Fisha. He was on the other side of the fence but close enough to communicate to. We talked about life, and farmers and soil, but we did not know that there was another, more sinister thing that was hiding on Fisha’s side of the farm. One day, we were talking about how my farmers looked happy while his seemed sad. I noted that, “My farm is Fairtra...” I tried to say. But then, our attention was diverted when we saw the farmers walking over to harvest us. We were split up, and I cried, cried and cried. (Well as much a coffee bean can) I was put in a fermentation tank, then dried, sorted and milled.

Finally, I was shipped to a cold place, which was rumored by the flowers in the container to be called “Canada”.

I was placed on a store shelf in a supermarket in a place called “Toronto”. I glanced over and saw another bag, and Fisha was in it! We started talking to each other. I excitedly told him how I was processed. “I was put into a fermentation tank and dried!” I excitedly told him. Fisha was sad. “Addisu, you know that conversation we had right before we were cut off?”

“Yeah.”

“I think I know why. I saw death in the eyes, Addisu.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know you are Fair trade and I am not, right? Do you know what Fair trade means?”

“Yeah. Sorta. Not really. No.” “It means that the farmers get a good life, Addisu.” “I seen all the starving children doing the coffee trade, all the starving, the distress in their faces as they sorted us. One afternoon, I saw a well dressed middle man wearing a smart suit and a Rolex watch turning down and walking away from my farmer. She turned around and looked at your Fair trade farm, and fell to her knees and cried. ‘Thats...the….last...guy…’ she muttered. I just guess that is how the world works.” He sighed.

“My god, Fisha. I NEVER knew it was that bad. Oh my god.” “My farmers were well fed, happy and were in good shape. They were talking about how they make more money now, and how their children now have food and a school. One afternoon, I saw a guy that wore glasses and a suit walk into the farm, followed by a cameraman, and he was speaking in English about Fair trade. He was apparently from a Coffee Union. I saw a woman crying on your farm, and a car driving away. Wait, Fisha, look over there!”

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I pointed at a row of CD’s with the label: Black Gold. It had that Coffee Union guy’s face on the cover.

“Oh, Fisha, I know now. He was exposing big companies. He was our protector.”

I looked down the aisle and saw a kid and his dad walking down the aisle.

Dad: “Ooh, son, this coffee is cheap!” He reached for Fisha’s bag and put it in the cart.

Son: “But dad, fair trade supports starving farmers and is higher quality. He reached for my bag and put it in the cart.

Dad: “Well, I don’t want anyone to suffer.”

We were purchased and placed in a cupboard. The next day, the kid took my bag and opened it. “Hi!” I said.

The kid responded with a warm, “Hello.”

He opened Fisha’s bag and united us. We told him about fair trade, and how badly major corporations treat their employees and how badly middlemen treat farmers. I think I did a good job though, as he was in tears when I finished.

“I...I... ccc...ann’t...comprehend!” He uttered. he started bawling again.

He was sad but he wanted to take action. We wrote emails to big corporations, made many successful petitions, and we were able to make one smaller corporation change their ways. We sparked change, and suddenly, many others were demanding fair trade. One act of inspiration can lead to a spark, then change. I learnt that when I was with his family. To create more change, they brought us and went to Ethiopia for vacation and to spread the word. One spark can cause a worldwide flame.

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What People Do To Make Us Happy By: Taylor Zivojinovich

Neymar Jr, Cristiano Ronaldo, and Lionel Messi are playing the last FIFA World Cup[2018].

The head of the FIFA World Cup decided to test a fair trade ball and not use a typical World Cup Brazuca ball. At the same moment workers far away in Pakistan are working their fingers to the bone to stitch and sew fair trade soccer balls for shipment to rich and powerful countries. It was a close match, Europe vs U.S.A. Europe won [4-2]. After the match, Neymar picked up the fair trade ball and asked Ronaldo and Messi “Where do you think we were given this amazing fair trade ball for the game?”

Messi replied, “I’m not sure.” But, Ronaldo replied, “I think I might have an idea.”

Messi was at the bench wondering about Neymar’s question. He thought in his head, I wonder what it would be like to work at the factory where these balls are made.” Back at the factory, workers and their children are getting restless from working. Back at the stadium in the locker room the three were getting changed into their casual clothes. They got to Neymar’s house. Ronaldo went onto his silver razer laptop and searched “Fair Trade Canada.” At the top right hand side,there was different categories that were labeled About us, Products, Producers, etc. Ronaldo clicked the category that said Products. It showed a list of Fair Trade products.One of them was sports balls. It had pictures and a video and lots of other information. In the video they showed the factory and what the workers have to do to make the balls. At the factory it’s 10:20 pm and workers are still working.

One of the workers fell asleep and if you fall asleep, you are faced with punishment. Children leave earlier at 9:45 but, adults have to stay until 11:00. Work ends at 11:30 and the last thirty minutes is for polishing the balls to make them shine.

At Neymar’s house they were playing FIFA 19, which is kind of funny because they were playing as themselves. After the match, Messi and Ronaldo drove to their house to go to bed. The next morning the workers have a day off because they produced even more balls than normal. The normal amount of ball production is 125 balls. Last night the workers produced 230 balls. All the balls made were fair trade balls. When the three woke up, they went to play a little scrimmage. Ronaldo performed an amazing header to Messi. Then, Messi did a bicycle kick to Neymar. Then, Neymar blasted the ball into the net. They played for about 20 minutes and were exhausted and sweaty from playing. When the workers have the day off, they tend to visit their children when they have a 10 minute break.

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In school the children learn about how to stitch soccer balls. Sometimes when they have 40 minutes they do math, gym, English, etc. The women usually train to be teachers. The men usually train become engineers and doctors. Neymar and the two finally realized what it’s like to work and produce these balls. The workers are shown a video of their hard work. Most workers turned very emotional and started to cry. Some workers smiled and laughed until tears came dripping down their face. Some children looked at one another and started hugging each other. Some of the adults hugged and laughed. When the video was over, credits came from the bottom of the screen. It said, “thank you to all of the wonderful people who made this video possible.” At the end a man with brown hair and hazel eyes appeared on the screen. He said in a small voice, “For all the work you’ve put in, we are donating $10,000 to support your life. And, for your children, we are giving them free education that means no paying for tuitions, and lunch, etc. It’s all free.” The three all said, “that’s what those people do to make us and everyone else in the whole world happy.” They said at the exact time, “That's what fairtrade means.”

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