Young Writers Project, an independent nonprofit based in Burlington, engages young people to write and use digital media to express themselves with clarity and power, and to gain confidence and skills for school, the workplace and life.
Check out the most recent issue of The Voice, Young Writers Project’s monthly digital magazine. Click here.
Each week, VTDigger features a writing submission – an essay, poem, fiction or nonfiction – accompanied by a photo or illustration from Young Writers Project.
YWP publishes about 1,000 students’ work each year here, in newspapers across Vermont, on Vermont Public Radio and in YWP’s monthly digital magazine, The Voice. Since 2006, it has offered young people a place to write, share their photos, art, audio and video, and to explore and connect online at youngwritersproject.org. For more information, please contact Susan Reid at sreid@youngwritersproject.org.
“Unable are the loved to die, for love is immortality,” Emily Dickinson wrote. It turns out that most quotes about grief over the death of loved ones apply just as well to the loss of dear friends under more mundane life circumstances. This week’s featured writer, Maelyn Slavik of Burlington, uses magical realism to firmly plant and grow within her heart the positivity of a close companion before she moved away.
Splattered With Personality
By Maelyn Slavik, 12, of Burlington
I stared at my palm where a seed had been placed. My friend, a genius with plants, gave it to me right before she left forever. She had said, “Eliana, I have been researching for weeks, and tried to manipulate the DNA of this seed to create something that reflects your best qualities. So please, plant it. I made it specially, so that it grows quickly.”
“OK,” I had whispered, as tears streamed down my face. So now, there I was, following her request and planting the seed.
I shoved my shovel into the dark, earthy dirt, again and again, until there was a fist-sized hole. I gently pressed the seed into the ground and pushed the mound of soil back over the seed. It was almost like burying my friend and my memory of her. A few more tears pushed their way through my lids and streamed down my cheeks. I pushed myself up with my hands and began to walk away. I’d check on the seed in the morning.
When I was halfway back inside, I heard a slight pop coming from the direction of where I had just been. I spun around, and I was in so much awe I couldn’t breathe. The tree, the one I had just placed in the ground, had already sprouted! And it was still growing!
Light bark that matched my skin covered branches that bravely fanned out. Bright, yellow leaves that reminded me of energy and enthusiasm dripped off them. Sweet-looking pink berries that reminded me of kindness were peppered throughout the leaves, along with hearty, white flowers that looked like they had been splattered with paint and creativity.
The tree really did reflect a bit of my personality, and a lot of my friend’s boldness and knowledge. The tree was perfect. It would always remind me of her. When I had planted it, I may have thought I was covering up my friend, but I was really just opening up even more about her.
