Dear Readers,
We would like to invite you to take part in a new project called "From Stories to Books".
The Stories for Everyone Team have been, for some time, gathering and selecting books that provide some sort of reflection on the fundamental ethical principles of
our society, such as solidarity, courage, honesty, respect for differences and a sense of justice, matters that have deserved the attention of writers from various
nationalities.
Therefore, the Stories for Everyone Team proposes to send, together with the usual weekly stories,and also free of charge, full texts of selected books.
In case you are interested in receiving each week, by email, a chapter of an extensive reading book, all you have to do is send an email to
books@storiesforeveryone.com or stories4ev@gmail.com by writing the following sentence in the subject field:
"Yes, I am interested in participating in the project From Stories to Books."
Hoping that this new proposal will meet your utmost interest, we look forward to your reply.
The Stories for Everyone Team
The homeless man slowly pushed his battered shopping cart down the sidewalk. At the corner trash barrel, he stopped and poked through the garbage with a long stick. He leaned into the barrel and dug out an empty soft drink can, which he dropped into his cart.
As he approached Tim, the man waved. Tim returned the wave with a smile. Almost everyone called the man The Can Man. But not Tim´s parents. "We remember when Mr. Peters lived in apartment 3C," Tim´s mom told him. "He used to work at the auto body shop before it went out of business, and he couldn´t find another job. He´s been down on his luck for quite a while now."
"Getting chilly," The Can Man said as he rattled by.
Tim looked at the gray sky. "It sure is," he said. He zipped his jacket up higher and slipped his hands into his pockets.
A few minutes later, Mike whizzed up on his skateboard, his cheeks red from the cold. "Want to go skateboarding in the park?" he asked.
Tim shook his head. "Nah. It´s no fun always borrowing your board and your brother´s old gear."
"Maybe you´ll get your own board for your birthday next week."
Tim shrugged. "Dad says we don´t have any extra money for toys or sports stuff this year. Too many bills to pay."
"Bummer," Mike said. He kicked away from the steps. "I´ll see you later."
Tim watched his friend speed away. Silently, Tim wished for a skateboard for his birthday, even though he knew birthday wishes don´t really come true.
Tim knew exactly which board he wanted. He had been eyeing it at Overtime Sports for months, and now it was going on sale. But even at the reduced price—and with the money Tim had saved from his allowance—the board was still too expensive.
I need a job, Tim thought glumly, so I can earn money to buy the skateboard.
Down the street, The Can Man threw two more cans into his cart. The empties hit the growing pile, clinking like the coins in Tim´s little sister´s piggy bank. The sound gave Tim an idea.
Early Saturday morning Tim rushed to get dressed. In the kitchen he grabbed a pair of rubber gloves and four big plastic bags from under the sink.
"What are you up to?" his mom asked.
"I have a job to do!" Tim said. Then he added with a grin, "Don´t worry. I´ll be home in time for lunch."
Outside, the cold air raised goose bumps on Tim´s arms. He jumped down the stairs and headed for the first trash barrel on the sidewalk. An empty can lay right on top. After checking several more barrels, Tim had filled half a bag. At five cents a can at the redemption center, he figured he would have enough money for a skateboard in no time.
A few blocks from the park, Tim stopped in to see Jamal at Bunus Bakery.
"Do you have any empty soft drink cans?" Tim asked.
"I usually save them for The Can Man," Jamal said. "He needs them."
"I need them too. I´m going to use the money to buy myself a skateboard for my birthday," Tim told Jamal. "I´ll even work to earn the cans."
"Well..." Jamal hesitated for a few moments. "Maybe this one time. I do have some crates you can carry to the back room."
"It´s a deal!" Tim replied.
After he had moved the crates and collected the cans as payment, Tim ran down the street, stopping at every trash barrel, store, and restaurant. By noon he had two full bags of cans. He clattered them up the stairs of his building and plopped down on the top step.
Collecting cans was harder than Tim thought it would be. His gloves were sticky, and his clothes smelled like the root beer he´d spilled on himself. But the thought of a brand‑new skateboard made him smile. Very soon he´d have one of his own. No more borrowing Mike´s board.
"What do you have there?" Tim´s mom asked when he dragged the bags into the kitchen.
"They´re full of cans for recycling. I´m earning money for a skateboard."
"Doesn´t Mr. Peters usually collect the cans around here?" his mom asked.
Tim nodded uneasily. "Yeah. But I´m only going to take them until my birthday."
"Well, you can´t keep them in here," his mom said. "Take them to the basement, and then wash up for lunch."
Tim knew it was no use arguing, so he bumped the bags downstairs to the basement. They crackled and clanked with every step.
Sunday after church, Tim hurried from one stinky trash barrel to the next, collecting empty cans. For the rest of the week, he had to wait until after school. Tim knew The Can Man always took the same route, so he started in the opposite direction. That way he got to some of the trash barrels before The Can Man did.
On Saturday Tim awoke to icy drizzle squiggling down his window. With a groan, he dragged himself out of his warm bed and into the kitchen.
Tim´s dad patted him on the shoulder. "Sorry, Tim," he said. "It looks like you´ll have to stay indoors today."
"But this is my last chance to collect cans," Tim protested. "I can´t let a little rain stop me."
(To be continued - You can read the whole story in the PDF attachment)
Amazing Grace
Grace was a girl who loved stories.
She didn´t mind if they were read to her or told to her or made up in her own head. She didn´t care if they were from books or on TV or in films or on the video or out of Nona´s long memory. Grace just loved stories.
And after she had heard them, or sometimes while they were still going on, Grace would act them out. And she always gave herself the most exciting part.
Grace went into battle as Joan of Arc… and wove a wicked web as Anansi the spiderman.
She hid inside the wooden horse at the gates of Troy; she crossed the Alps with Hannibal and a hundred elephants. She sailed the seven seas with a peg-leg and a parrot.
She was Hiawatha, sitting by the shining Big-Sea-Water and Mowgli in the back garden jungle.
But most of all Grace loved to act pantomimes. She liked to be Dick Whittington turning to hear the bells of London Town or Aladdin rubbing the magic lamp. The best characters in pantomimes were boys, but Grace played them anyway.
When there was no-one else around, Grace played all the parts herself. She was a cast of thousands. Paw-Paw the cat usually helped out.
And sometimes she could persuade Ma and Nona to join in, when they weren´t too busy. Then she was Doctor Grace and their lives were in her hands.
One day at school her teacher said they were going to do the play of Peter Pan. Grace put up her hand to be ... Peter Pan.
"You can´t be called Peter," said Raj. "That´s a boy´s name."
But Grace kept her hand up.
"You can´t be Peter Pan," whispered Natalie. "He wasn´t black." But Grace kept her hand up.
"All right," said the teacher. "Lots of you want to be Peter Pan, so we´ll have to have auditions. We´ll choose the parts next Monday."
When Grace got home, she seemed rather sad.
"What´s the matter?" asked Ma.
"Raj said I couldn´t be Peter Pan because I´m a girl."
"That just shows all Raj knows about it," said Ma. "Peter Pan is always a girl!"
Grace cheered up, then later she remembered something else. "Natalie says I can´t be Peter Pan because I´m black," she said.
Ma started to get angry but Nona stopped her.
"It seems that Natalie is another one who don´t know nothing," she said. "You can be anything you want, Grace, if you put your mind to it."
Next day was Saturday and Nona told Grace they were going out. In the afternoon they caught a bus and a train into town.
(To be continued - You can read the whole story in the PDF attachment)
Mary Hoffman
Amazing Grace
London, Frances Lincoln Children´s books, 2010
Posted by: Stories for Everyone - AS <sg@storiesforeveryone.com>
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