A special thanks to the awesome preteens of www.PreteenPlanet.com for reading and evaluating last-minute stories for us and endorsing the book; and to those who contributed to our compilation stories, “Preteen Wisdom” and “My Most Embarrassing Moment.” We really couldn’t have done it without you!
To Mary Beth Zaskoda, Maxine Dessler and Lisa Sourbrey who helped us locate young writers that we couldn’t find. Thanks for going the extra mile.
Most of all, our gratitude goes out to everyone who submitted their heartfelt stories, poems, quotes and cartoons for possible inclusion in this book. We especially thank the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators for always sending such well-written and age-appropriate material for us to consider.
Finally, thanks to all the preteens who took time to write to us just to say how much they loved Chicken Soup for the Preteen Soul and requested a second edition. It means the world to us to hear how our books have changed your lives for the better.
Because of the size of this project, we may have left out the names of some people who contributed along the way. If so, we are sorry, but please know that we really do appreciate you very much.
We are truly grateful and love you all!
Heart of the City. © 2003 Mark Tatulli. Dist. by UNIVERSAL PRESS SYNDICATE.
Reprinted with permission. All rights reserved.
Introduction
Ever think that you’ll have to wait to grow up to make a difference in the world? Well, stop thinking that! We’ve said it before and we’ll say it again—YOU ARE UNSTOPPABLE! Preteens are continually stepping up and changing things for the better. To prove it, we have included inspiring stories about preteens like you who are making dreams come true while making life a little better for others.
As you make your way from being a kid to an adult, it seems that you’re dealing with so many changes that sometimes it’s tough just to keep your balance. Chicken Soup for the Preteen Soul 2, like Preteen Soul, addresses challenges that you face when it comes to friendships, first crushes, peer pressure, cliques, divorce, death and more, and how the choices you make—big and small—have a significant impact on your life and the lives of others.
We also recognize that there are moments in life that you can’t change, can’t take back and simply have to deal with. “That’s life,” as they say. So, we have added a new chapter called “Life Happens” that is designed to make you smile and think to yourself, Hey, life ain’t perfect, but it ain’t so bad either. We’ve also created a new compilation in this chapter titled “My Most Embarrassing Moment” that takes a lighthearted look at circumstances in which some people might have felt defeated, but chose to laugh or shrug it off instead.
And for when things get really tough—and sometimes they do—you may need some advice or information. To help you deal better, we’ve included Website information and an 800 number at the end of some of the stories.
Through Preteen Soul 2 we really want you to get that you’re not alone in the seemingly endless changes that you—and your body—are going through. Elizabeth Haney, eleven, describes it this way:
Being a preteen is harder than it looks. Your body is going through changes, so you have more emotions than you know what to do with. Sometimes you just want to cry and other times you feel like things are going your way.
And then you have moms who just aren’t ready for you to grow up yet. I mean, what are they going to do when we learn how to drive?
And then there are dads. My dad is always there for me, especially when I need to talk about boys. He can always explain why they act so weird. (Sorry, boys!)
There are millions of other kids going through the same things, although we are all slightly different. Like, you might be black, white or Hispanic or have red hair and you probably don’t have a dog named Missy or an annoying neighbor. But you’re not alone when it comes to what a preteen goes through.
As the authors, we feel that we understand what issues are important to preteens, but we would never assume to know which stories will impact you the most. Once again, we have taken the best of the thousands of stories sent to us and asked preteens all over America to help us choose the best of the best. What you have in your hands is a book with the 101 stories and poems that your peers liked the most. How can you go wrong with that?
We hope that this book will show you that anything you put your mind and effort to is possible. You can—and will—recover from the stuff that messes with you, if you keep yourself open to all possibilities. Recognize that sometimes things just take time to heal or change for the better. Your attitude can make or break you. Whether you live with joy and happiness or allow the things that happen to you to defeat you is really up to you.
May these stories help you have better friendships, sort out your emotions and make good life decisions. Realize that you can make a difference right now. You don’t have to wait to grow up to make your world a better place. You are powerful and able.
Above all, remember to enjoy your preteen years! And . . . never, never give up on your dreams.
Share with Us
We would like to know how these stories affected you and which ones were your favorites. Please write to us and let us know.
Also, please send us your nonfiction stories and poems that you would like us to consider for future books.
Send submissions to:
Chicken Soup for the Kid’s/Preteen Soul
Attn: Patty Hansen and Irene Dunlap
P.O. Box 10879
Costa Mesa, CA 92627
E-mail us at:
[email protected] Visit our Website at:
www.lifewriters.com
www.preteenplanet.com
www.chickensoup.com
1
ON FRIENDS
Someone to laugh with, perhaps to shed some tears
A person who’s been with you all through the years.
Someone to shelter you from days that are cold
A shoulder to lean on, a warm hand to hold.
An arm to catch you if you slip and you fall
And an ear for your problems whenever you call.
Someone to share your giggles and your screams
A person to tell all your secrets and dreams.
Someone to hug you when you’re happy or sad
To just be there in the good times or bad.
A person with whom you don’t have to pretend
These are the jobs of a very best friend.
Michele Davis, fifteen
Thanks, Y’All!
We all take different paths in life, but no matter where we go, we take a little of each other everywhere.
Tim McGraw
I have distant friends, neighborhood friends, basketball friends and friends online. However, I have one group of friends that has really been special to me.
In the fifth grade, my twin sister, Monica, and I transferred to a new school. Without any hesitation, I went. I didn’t argue. Since my mom taught there, I would no longer have to ride the bus with a bunch of rowdy boys and worry about stuff like getting kicked in the head. No kidding—they actually accidentally kicked me in the head one day!
At my old school, I hadn’t made any real friends. I was treated like a complete dork because of the way I looked. I had glasses, baggy clothes, pimples and blemishes. I rarely smiled and hardly ever laughed, wore a belt and was overweight. I was also dealing with the reality of my parents getting a divorce.
So, on the first day at my new school, I just hoped that I would make friends. For a few weeks, I was always alone. Monica ended up having a different lunch period than I did, so I would just read during recess and lunch.
Then one day, a girl in my class named Cori came up to me at lunch and asked if she could sit by me. We began to talk, and since we both are twins, it gave us a lot to talk about. Soon, Cori introduced me to friends of hers— Adriane, Hannah and Toni—and I introduced them to Monica. Then Cori’s twin, Cole, and his friends Matt and Ros
s started hanging around with us. We became one big inseparable group. At recess we played basketball and other games. We did everything together.
Ever since we’ve been together, my friends have always been there for me—even the boys. They liked me, for me. Having them in my life changed the way I felt about myself. Their friendship gave me a sky-high feeling. We barely ever argued! We were really tight. They seemed to understand how hard it was to change schools and have stuck with me through the tough times, like dealing with my parents’ divorce.
One time, when Monica and I couldn’t go outside with our friends after school, Toni supplied us with a pair of walkie-talkies to keep us all in touch!
I began being more outgoing, like getting involved in student council and entering writing contests—some that I even won! Then came the sixth grade, our last year of elementary school and the last year for all of us to be going to the same school together. Adriane, Hannah, Toni, Matt and Ross were going to Tison. Monica and I would at least still be seeing Cori and Cole since the four of us were all going to Hall Junior High.
I’d also be seeing my “old” classmates from the other elementary school, including some I had run into recently. Boys who had teased me in my old school, stood staring at me not even knowing who I was. The girls who previously had treated me like vapor now payed attention to me and called me by name. I couldn’t figure it out. I didn’t know why. I thought that I was the same old me. But then when I looked in the mirror, I realized that I was a lot different than I had been before.
I wasn’t short and stubby anymore. I had grown tall and slender and my complexion had cleared up. The glasses were gone and my belts were pushed to the back of my closet. I realized then that my friends had done more than just make me feel good—they had made me feel confident because they had supported me, and slowly my appearance had changed.
With their help, I had pushed my weight off. Toni helped me with that by encouraging me not to eat some of the more fattening foods and telling me that I could do whatever I set my mind to. I had been trying to lose weight since I was nine, when the doctor had said to my mom, “Michelle has a weight problem.”
I learned to properly wash my face with the help of my friend Hannah and her magical beauty tips. “Just wash your face every night, it doesn’t take too long!” she instructed.
With the help of Cori, my belt was gone. “Believe me, it’s a lot less painful on your stomach. I used to tuck all my clothes in, even sweaters!” she exclaimed.
Adriane suggested that I wear my glasses only when I really needed them. “If you can see how many fingers I’m holding up, you are okay,” she said. “Just wear them when you need to see the homework assignment on the board.”
My sister, Monica, loves clothes and helped me pay attention to how I dressed. She would give me feedback about what looked good and what didn’t. It really helped to hear her say, “Wow, Michelle, that looks FANTASTIC on you! Man, why couldn’t I have gotten that?”
With the help of Cole, I learned a little bit more about athletics. “No! No! The receiver receives the ball! No! No! The quarterback doesn’t flip the quarter! That’s the referee!” he explained.
With the help of Matt, I learned to smile. “It won’t hurt you,” he encouraged.
With help from Ross, I learned a laugh a day keeps the frown away.
“B in math? Awesome! That’s not failing—it’s just not perfect,” expressed my friends.
As I gaze into the mirror, I turn to the left and then to the right. I smile at my reflection, because I now realize that these people, my true friends, never saw me as a dork. They saw the beauty in me. They brought my personality out.
The best friends that anyone in the world could ever have will be missed when we go to junior high. But I will cherish the memories that we have created, and whatever happens, I’ll always remember that my friends helped me become who I am. In conclusion, I have to say . . . thanks, Cori, Cole, Hannah, Matt, Adriane, Ross, Toni and Monica.
Y’ALL ARE THE BEST!!!
Michelle Strauss, twelve
Baldo. © 2003 Baldo Partnership. Dist. by UNIVERSAL PRESS SYNDICATE. Reprinted with permission. All rights reserved.
Right in Front of Me
Afriend will not talk bad about you and will never lie.
Friends are always there for you if you need to cry.
Friends will be there for you through thick and through thin.
When the rest of the world walks out on you, a friend will walk in.
Nicole Johnson, thirteen
When I was in the sixth grade, I met my new best friend. Her name was Courtney, and she was tall, pretty and smart. She was also one of the most popular girls in school. That same year, I met my worst enemy, this awful boy named David. Every day he would call me names and pull my hair. I couldn’t stand him.
When we graduated to seventh grade, Courtney ran for student body president. One night, she invited me over to her house to make posters and buttons for her campaign.
When I arrived, I was horrified at what I saw. It was David! Apparently, Courtney and David had been friends for some time. David and I looked at each other as though we were two cowboys in an old Western movie ready for a showdown. Our eyes locked and each of us frowned at the other. After what seemed like an eternity, Courtney broke the stare by telling us to get to work on the posters. We sat in silence for a few moments, and then David said, “Hey, we haven’t gotten along in the past, but let’s call a truce for the sake of Courtney.” I was stunned at his suggestion, and I also couldn’t refuse.
Once we decided to stop being enemies, we hit it off almost immediately. David and I found out that we had the same sense of humor and laughed at the same jokes. We both loved the same music and going to the same movies. We could talk about anything. I couldn’t believe that a few hours before, I couldn’t stand to be near David, and now here we were, covered in glue and glitter and laughing so hard our stomachs hurt. I never even had this much fun with Courtney. But even after I realized that I had this connection with David, when I went home, I kind of dismissed it. After all, he was a boy and Courtney was my best friend.
A couple of months later, my grandfather died. A week after his funeral, my parents decided that we should move. I was terribly upset because I loved my school and my friends, especially Courtney. But she promised me she would call me at least once a week and we would get together as often as possible. There was no doubt in my mind that we would stay friends through this difficult time in my life—dealing with my grandfather’s death and, on top of that, moving to a new town. I gave David my new phone number, too, and told him to call me.
A couple of weeks went by, but I never even got one phone call from Courtney. On the other hand, David had already called me several times to ask how I was doing and tell me what was happening at my old school. I was so upset that I hadn’t heard from Courtney that I finally decided to call her. When she answered the phone, she apologized for not calling me and told me that she was going to be in a play and that I should come and see it with David. Courtney said we would all go out to dinner afterward. I was so excited that I was going to see my best friend again.
My mom dropped me off at the theater, and I ran into David right away. We had been talking so much on the phone that I felt like I had just seen him the day before; it was a great feeling. After the play, David and I waited for Courtney to come meet us so that we could go to dinner. But Courtney never showed up. She left without even saying hello or good-bye. I was heartbroken and I started to cry. I had wanted to see and speak with my best friend, who hadn’t even called me since I had moved. I needed her to be there for me, to ask me how I was holding up, and she wasn’t even interested.
After I had finished bawling my eyes out, I looked up and there was David. I realized something at that moment; my true friend wasn’t at all who I had thought. During a rough transition in my life, the person that I had thought was my best friend couldn’t even make time for me, and the
person who was once my enemy became my closest friend in the world.
I have never spoken to Courtney again. But every week, David and I talk on the phone. To this very day, David is my best friend.
Heather Comeau
The Mysterious Book Bag
The homemade book bag was sprawled across my bed. It appeared to have taken over the entire room. I hovered in the doorway just staring at it, a little afraid to move toward it. I closed my eyes for a second, trying to imagine the large shoulder bag gone. I carefully visualized a nice, normal store-bought backpack in navy blue or black.
I opened my eyes again. It was still there. The large sack was the color of rust, and fuzzy, like a stuffed animal. I knew that my mom had spent all day happily sewing as she envisioned me proudly walking from class to class with it flung over my shoulder.
To make matters worse, I realized that the fabric was actually left over from a toy horse that my mom made for me when I was a baby. Now there was sentiment attached to it. I entered the room and picked up the gift. My mother had even quilted little running horses along each side. And, just to make certain that no one would be confused as to who owned this furry monstrosity, Mom had embroidered my name on one side.