Sara Aizman contributed poetry, prose, and photography to this year’s contest. She is in the 11th grade at Bais Yaakov.
PROSE - 2009
Grades 7 - 9
First Place - Baila Elkin
Second Place - Lana Rubinstein
Third Place - Solomon Polansky
Grades 10 - 12
First Place - Annie Fishman
Prose, Grades 10 - 12: Third Place
This One - Sara Aizman
Mom and I had taken the 17C downtown to do some exploring! I loved this summer treat. When you’re four years old, and the buildings are over 40 stories high, this experience can be a magnificently overwhelming journey through a paved jungle. As I walked down the street gripping my mom’s hand tightly, people, cars and bikes whizzed by me as if I were on a ride at the fair! My mother tugged at my arm, retrieving me from the daze I was in, and we went into a nice, quiet Borders Books store. There it was, one of the most amazing places in that building. Any kid who loved to read (or just look at the pictures, as I did) walked up the stairs wide eyed, ready to explore the children’s section. There were rows and rows of books, and so many beanbags that all of the children in the world would have a place to put their little bottoms and read for hours (my favorite part). There were even hand puppets on racks that would stare at you with their big plastic eyes. After all of the excitement had sunk in, I began to look through the shelves for a book with lots of pictures. Something caught my eye. Yes, I knew that was the book I wanted. Big and yellow, with many creatures on the cover. Ah! Yes! That’s where I remembered those smiling animal faces from, The Richard Scarry VHS we had at home which I had watched so many times that the film began to skip. I pulled that book right off the shelf as if I owned the thing, and marched with it to my mother. I didn’t even need to open this book to know it was the one I wanted. It was so beautiful and big. “I want this one,” I told my mother. “Please,” I added. My mother taught me manners and there was no way I would get this book without saying “please.”
We went to the register, which was taller than I was, and I pushed it up so that my mom could pay for it. The cashier rang up my spectacular book along with all of my mother’s “grown up books,” and I knew that they were grown up books because they were huge. My mom gave the man behind the counter her credit card, and he began to put the books in a bag. “I would like to hold it, please,” I said, while standing on my tippy toes, peering over the counter. The man handed me the book, and I knew, now, that it was mine. I thanked the man, and so did my mother, and then we walked back down the very staircase that had lead me to that utopia of books just thirty minutes earlier. The next stop was the coffee shop. We walked in and up to the counter to order. I ordered my small orange juice and my mom ordered what she always did, no matter the coffee shop, “A double latte, skim, no foam, please.” We got our drinks and sat in the seats that faced the window looking out to the street. I set the book down on the chair next to me, so that there would be no chance of my orange juice or my mom’s latte spilling on it.
Our drinks were slurped to their last drops, and I knew that our journey was coming to a close. I picked up my book, and held it close as I threw away my cup. With my book in one hand, and my mom’s hand in the other, we walked out the door, back into the jungle. We found the stop where the 17C would come to pick us up and take us home. As we, along with many others, loaded onto the bus, I held the book close against my chest to avoid dropping it. We got home, and that night my Dad opened that beautiful book for the very first time, right before bed. I giggled and laughed at all of the funny short stories in this book. It was Richard Scarry’s Funniest Storybook Ever, and it truly was the funniest book ever. The story of Absent-Minded Mr. Rabbit who got himself into a terrible mess, and how Mr. Fixit could fix everything. My, what a beautiful book I had picked out that afternoon. That book would never leave the house, nor would it be read after two weeks of it being purchased; I loved that book, but it got old, as every book does. On the bookshelf, it built up dust, being pulled out only once or twice by a little girl who would come and visit. The funniest storybook ever had had its use, and was ready to retire. Twelve years later, it made a comeback. Now, the child in me comes back.
Just after my sixteenth birthday, something caught my eye on the bookshelf in our den, just as it had so many years back at the store. I felt the same joy I had just twelve years ago, when I received the book and carried it home. I opened the book, as if for the first time. Memories flashed in my mind of the day I had experienced such whimsy climbing up the stairs of Border Books. I began to read the stories and laughed once again in my child laugh, just as I did the first night my Dad read it to me. I look forward to the day that I will read this children’s book to my own children. They will hear the stories that made me laugh and beg my father for just one more story before bed. Richard Scarry’s Funniest Storybook Ever not only is the funniest book ever, but is also one of the most timeless.