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Provide reliable local and school news and events Acknowledge and recognize student achievement Build school spirit and raise importance of community service Encourage student participation in clubs and extra-curriculars Provide opportunities to develop personal & inter-personal skills

OUR MISSION

Spartans Speak is a community magazine run by students at North Surrey Secondary. The magazine is sponsored by Mrs. Cameron and Mrs. Hall and led by a department team of five. The current department heads are Michelle Chen, Tessa Morin, Amirah Wood, Sam Kirk, and Hannah Dodson. For a full list of our members and positions please check our table of contents page!

The club consists of 30 active members. We have approximately 45 total members including contributors, free-lancers, and student re-porters. We hope to expand our reach farther into the community this coming school year, so if you are interested in being part of the Spartans Speak team, contact us through our support email.

To date, we have published three editions. While there are no more additional physical copies available, we will be uploading PDF versions of our magazines online on our website soon. As always, like our Facebook page and follow us on Twitter for up to date news and announcements regarding Spartans Speak and North Surrey Secondary!

ABOUT US

SPARTANS SPEAK celebrates one year in running!

We’d like to personally thank our sponsor teachers Mrs. Cameron and Mrs. Hall, the PAC, and the Reprographics

Printing Center for all your contributions to Spartans Speak.

OFFICIAL WEBSITEspartanspeak.ca

SUPPORT/FEEDBACKsupport@spartanspeak.ca

SUBMISSIONSwriters@spartanspeak.ca

TWITTER ACCOUNTtwitter.com/spartanspeak

FACEBOOK PAGEfacebook.com/spartanspeak

CONTACT US

TIME: LunchLOCATION: Room 222

WEDNESDAY:General Meetings

THURSDAY:Editors’ Meetings

MEETINGS

SCHEDULE AND CONTACT INFORMATION - STAY IN TOUCH WITH US!

ABOUT US

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IF YOU’RE INTERESTED IN

JOINING, COME TO ONE OF

OUR MEETINGS!

THE TEAM AT SPARTANS SPEAK MAGAZINE

DIRECTORSMichelle Chen

Tessa MorinAmirah Wood

Sam KirkHannah Dodson

WRITERS

Jenny He Arthur Chen

Cindy LeJennifer Le

Devyn BohunRichard SunRachel WangSukhdip GillPeter DengAron WongMikela FongAjit Joseph

Heewon OhAmita Mahey

Laveniya KugathasanBailey Lawrence

EDITORS

Chris Huynh Michael Salloum

Henry GuoJohn Yang

DESIGNERS

Franklin Leung Celina ChangKhoa NguyenDean Kwon

Virginia ChangAaron Ho

ConnectMUN 2012 pg. 4Christmas Concert 2012 pg. 4

The Christmas of 1914 pg. 5The Origin of the Festival of Lights pg. 6A Special Interview with Mr. Bonhomme pg. 8A Journey to Freedom pg. 10Holiday Haikus pg. 11

Is it Christmas Yet? pg. 12The Tale of Elizabeth Brudit and the First White Christmas pg. 13Snow Like an Hourglass pg. 14The Santa Secret Why Should You Keep It? pg. 15Why I Love Winter pg. 16Surrounded By Pure White pg. 17

WINTER & CHRISTMAS THEMEDarticles, short stories, and poetry

by Spartans Speak members

& the Writing Class students!

CONTENT

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NORTH SURREY @ CONNECTMUN:

* HEEWON OH Honorable Mentions in the United Nations High Commis-sioner for Refugees (UNHCR) * JONATHAN CRAMER Best Delegate in North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO)

* CHRIS SEO Best Delegate in the United Na-tions Security Council (UNSC)

CONGRATULATIONS!

THE NORTH SURREY MODEL UNITED NATIONS team had an amazing time participating in the Annual Connect Model United Nations Conference in downtown Vancouver. The whole conference lasted three days and two nights at the Hyatt Hotel. There were hundreds of delegates present and we had very professional directors and chairs who all contributed to make Con-nect MUN one of the best conferences of the year.

VARIOUS COMMITTEES WITH DIFFERENT TOPICS and mandates for different delegates discussed important issues in the world. Throughout the weekend delegates participated in five committees which held an abundant fifteen hours of debate. At the end of the conference our North Surrey MUN team left the conference with a huge gain in experience and three awards.

HEEON OH RECEIVED HONOURABLE MENTIONS in the UNHCR (Unit-ed Nations High Commissioner for Refugees), Jonathan Cramer attained Best Delegate in NATO (North Atlantic Treaty Organization), and finally Chris Seo was awarded Best Delegate in the UNSC (United Nations Security Coun-cil) (commonly regarded as the highest level of all the committees.) Connect MUN was a great experience and the NS MUN team looks forward to attend-ing the future conferences this year!!

NORTH SURREY MODEL UNITED NATIONS TEAM PARTICIPATED IN ANNUAL CONNECTMUN CONFERENCE.

THE NORTH SURREY BAND AND the North Surrey Polaris put out an amazing per-formance for their audience on December 5th in the North Surrey Secondary Gym. The concert lasted two hours and was filled with different genres of performances by the Jazz band, Senior, Intermediate, and Junior Band, Concert Choir, and Polaris, ranging from winter fireplace music to Mission Impossible to jazzy choral music.

ALONG WITH DIFFERENT SOLOS AND accompaniments featured in the concert, door prizes were given out. The gym was filled with music and joy as the school, performers, and audience celebrated Christmas with music. The concert ended with the Band, Choir, and Audience singing The 12 Days of Christmas together with each audience member jumping up for the month in which they were born in. It was a great day and everyone left the school elated and full of holiday spirit!

“THE GYM WAS

FILLED WITH JOY

... AS [THEY]

CELEBRATED

CHRISTMAS

WITH MUSIC.”

NSSS 2012 CHRISTMAS CONCERT

CLUBNEWSBY PETER DENG

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“MEN FROM BOTH SIDES REALIZED THEY DID NOT REALLY

WANT TO FIGHT.”

ALMOST A HUNDRED YEARS ago, in WWI. Soldiers from Germany, Britain, and France, sat in cold and muddy trenches on the Western Front fighting for their respective nations. As Christmas came closer, the soldiers wanted to stop fighting. The Tommies (British) and the Fritz (Germans) received letters from home which prompted them to re-think their actions and caused a lull in the fighting. The soldiers awoke and went to sleep to the sound of bullets each day, but on Christmas Eve, 1914, the soldiers from Germany and Britain decided on an unofficial truce.

ON THE EVENING OF DECEMBER 24, 2012, the temperature dropped below zero and it even snowed in some places on the Western Front. The forces had their trenches no more than seventy yards apart from each other. Lighted candles started to appear along the German lines. The Tommies thought that an attack from the Fritz was coming their way. A request came from the side of the Fritz to not to fire. Luckily the Tommies agreed to a ceasefire.

CHRISTMAS CAROLS WERE sung by the Fritz and the Tommies

responded with their own traditional carols. Slowly the British and the Germans climbed out of their trenches onto no-man’s land, trudged towards each other, shook hands, and introduced themselves to each other as friends. Even the military officers greeted each other as friends. Everyone shared jokes and gifts with

each other as if they were never enemies. The Tommies offered plum pudding and metal cases filled with chocolates, butterscotch, cigarettes, and tobacco from their king George V. The Fritz received boxes of cigarettes from their Kaiser.

THE GERMANS PLACED candles on the sides of the British trenches before caroling. At 7:30 pm, they caroled in unison in their own languages, each taking a turn. Each round would end with a round of applause from both sides.

THE NEXT DAY, WHICH WAS Christmas day, no-man’s land became a playground for the grown men. Soldiers, who were barbers before the war began, gave fellow soldiers haircuts. The British brought out soccer balls and played soccer. Soldiers who were not playing just socialized with the opposition. Men from both sides realized that they did not really want to fight.

CHRISTMAS, THE CELEBRATION love, brought mortal enemies together as friends, but only for a limited time. Unfortunately in many places on the front, the truce ended that night and the war was on once again.

THE OFFICERS EACH CALLED their troops back into the trenches and the British officer stepped up to the edge of the trench, fired three shots in the air, and put up a flag that said “Merry Christmas”. The Germans put up a sheet that said “Thank you”. The officers bowed and saluted each other and then got back in their side of the trenches. Once again the bullets started piercing through the cold winter air.

1914 BY SUKHDIP GILL

THE CHRISTMASOF WORLDWAR ONE

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ON THE DARKEST NO MOON night of the year, the kingdom of Ayodhya sparkles and shine. Her citizens light up the pitch-black streets with diyas, illuminating every dark corner with a brilliant glow, and celebrate the triumph of the light over the darkness. It is time to rejoice and welcome the eldest prince of the kingdom -- after fourteen long years, Rama had finally come home.

UNDER THE RULE OF KING Dashrath, Ayodhya had blossomed into a fine kingdom, and he had just announced that Rama, the eldest of four Princes, would succeed him. However, as the kingdom rejoiced on this joyful occasion, Rama’s stepmother- the Queen of the kingdom- intervened.

WHILE SHE HELD NO resentment towards Rama, she feared for the future of her own son, and called upon an old promise that the king had made her. In exchange for saving his life in battle, he would grant any two of her wishes. Using one of these wishes, she told her husband to exile Rama so he would be unable to claim the throne. Reluctantly, King Dashrath was forced to send Rama away for a fourteen year exile.

RECOGNIZING THE INJUSTICE IN this sentence, Rama’s wife Seeta and his half-brother Lakshman decided to accompany him into the forest where he was to wait out the fourteen years.

Near the end of the exile, a female demon named Surpanakha tried to harm the brothers, and Lakshman was forced to cut off her nose and ears to punish her. Humiliated by this atrocity, Surpanakha went to her demon brothers, telling them to claim vengeance.

THEIR ATTEMPTS TO GET for her were initially unsuccessful, but her brother Ravana – an immortal demon with ten heads and arms-- came up with a cunning plan. He decided to kidnap Seeta , despite several warnings from his siblings. Dressing up as a beggar and pleading for food, he lured Seeta out from her protective area. As soon as she stepped

out, Ravana abducted her, shedding his beggar’s disguise, and carried her off across the sea to his kingdom Lanka.

RAMA FOUND OUT THAT HIS wife had been abducted, and he immediately set off with Lakshman to find the support he needed in order to rescue Seeta. He asked his follower Hanuman and his army of animals to battle alongside him, and, being his devotee, Hanuman agreed.

RAMA WAS NOT ABLE TO CROSS the sea to get to Ravana’s kingdom because Ravana had destroyed all bridges, but Hanuman and his army were far more resourceful than he had imagined. Throwing a vast amount of giant rocks into the water which was able to float over water, they were able to build a bridge across the sea. Rama and his army crossed the bridge right away, determined to fight until Seeta was safely with them.

WHAT FOLLOWED WAS A mighty battle. Rama’s army was unwavering, resolute, and loyal, but Ravana’s demon army was just as bent on revenge and equally loyal to their destructive leader. Each army fought valiantly and lost many lives as Rama, with his bow and arrow, sought only to kill Ravana. Brave Hanuman carried Rama on his shoulders as warriors from both sides fell around them. Rama knew that Ravana was immortal only because of a jar in his stomach

“WHAT FOLLOWED WAS

A MIGHTY BATTLE.RAMA’S ARMY

WAS UNWAVER-ING... BUT RAV-ANA’S DEMON

ARMY WAS JUST AS BENT ON REVENGE...”

THE ORIGINS OFTHE FESTIVAL OF LIGHTS

BY AMITA MAHEYPHOTOGRAPHY BY GULRAJ CHHINA

DIWALI

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that contained Amrita -- a liquid with the power of rapid regeneration. With this in mind, Rama drew a final, golden arrow from his quiver and pierced Ravana through his stomach, thus shattering the jar. The Amrita now spilled, and that was the end of Ravana, the immortal king of Lanka.

AND NOW, RAMA AND SEETA finally reunited. On this joyful occasion, the fourteen years of Rama’s exile had also been completed. Upon his return to Ayodhya, the citizens lit up his path home with diyas, and

celebrated his homecoming. Rama had proven himself worthy to rule the kingdom and without delay, he was coronated. Since then, the day when Rama returned to Ayodhya is celebrated by lighting up the streets, displaying fireworks, and distributing sweets. This tradition has continued through generations and countless eras: the Hindu festival Diwali was born.

“WHILE SHE HELD NO RESENTMENT TOWARDS RAMA, SHE FEARED THE FUTURE OF HER OWN SON...”

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INTERVIEWER Today, we bring to you the perspective of all the Snowmen out there. On behalf of the beautiful snowmen and snowwomen, Mr. Bonhomme the Great Snowman has agreed to participate in an interview for our lovely magazine, Spartans Speak!

[Mr. Bonhomme waddles into the room and sits in the chair…]

INTERVIEWER What a pleasure it is to have you here Mr. Bonhomme. How are you doing?

BONHOMME I am doing fine, thank you, but don’t you think it is a little warm? I seem to be sitting in a puddle.

INTERVIEWERB As a snowman, aren’t you always?

BONHOMME Ah, right. Well...shall we just continue with the interview?

INTERVIEWER Certainly. So, Mr. Bonhomme, what is it like to be the mascot of the Quebec Winter Carnival and be one of Canada’s cultural icons?

BONHOMME Undeniably, it’s a great honour to be a national celebrity. I am recognized by many people; men, women, children,

animals, pineapples, the works. I am, however, ignored by others. Many of the English speakers of this country do not know who I am, and it can be very frustrating since

I am part of the Canadian culture. To have my carnival well known by every Canadian, I have talked to teachers and have incorporated my pictures in French 6 and 7 textbooks.

I look rather spiffy if I do say so myself. Since French is mandatory for students until Grade 8, children will have to learn about me, whether they like it or not! Then again, learning about snowmen is a very entertaining subject to study, am I right?

INTERVIEWER Ahaha, nothing tickles my fancy like a good article on snowmen. As for the learning experience itself, are you entirely sure forcing children to learn about you and the Quebec Winter Carnival is necessary?

BONHOMME Certainly! The children will blame the teachers if they do not want to learn it and most of the children who learn about me tend to like me, so I have nothing to worry about!

INTERVIEWER Sounds like you’ve planned this well! Moving on, how do you and all the snowmen feel about the short winters recently?

BONHOMME This is a silly question. I am FURIOUS about it. You humans aren’t taking enough care to repair our environment and because of you, a new problem called “Global Warming” has been introduced to the world! All you humans ever think about is yourselves! For a change, you should begin to think about all these young snowmen wishing to be rebuilt and experience life! Instead, we are either stuck up in the sky as water droplets or as puddles on the ground.

INTERVIEWER For sure, Mr. Bonhomme, we will definitely let the others know that you’re so worked up. Now, for the third question of the day, how do you manage to stay frozen when your other mates are melting?

BONHOMME Simply because of magic!

INTERVIEWER ... Anything else you would like to add?

BONHOMME Do you actually want me to explain my magic to you?

A SPECIAL INTERVIEW WITH MR BONHOMME

BY LAVENIYA KUGATHASANAND THE GREAT COMEDIAN ALEXIA BARNES

CHRISTMAS

COMEDY

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INTERVIEWER Uhh, moving on. So, Mr. Bonhomme, how do you feel about snowmen not being a part of Christmas?

BONHOMME Well, if Santa Claus isn’t able to realize the preciousness of us, snowmen, then we’re fine with that! Besides, not every child celebrates Christmas. However, all the children do build snowmen when it snows. Therefore, in a way, we are more popular than Christmas!

INTERVIEWER But Mr. Bonhomme, you haven’t answered my initial question. How do you feel–?

BONHOMME I have no feelings whatsoever. I’m a snowman.

INTERVIEWER Is this something else to do with your magic?

BONHOMME Yes.

INTERVIEWER Then we don’t need any more details. Now Mr. Bonhomme, do you ever get tired of the same design children use for snowmen? Why the same carrot nose? Why the same top hat?

BONHOMME No, I don’t really mind how the children are not creative enough to come up with new designs. But it is entertaining to see a new outfit once in awhile. Just as long as they aren’t

disturbing. I once saw a child build a snow sculpture depicting a row of Easter Island heads along their driveway. Somebody else made two snowmen; one was on the ground presumably dead with holes in their back, and the other had an ice cream cone and ice cream scooper. How morbid is that?

INTERVIEWER Oh very mor–

BONHOMME AND LET ME TELL YOU SOMETHING ELSE. One dark little toddler made the classic snowman, only instead of the top hat, there was a heated bag on his head instead. You know what the sign he was holding said? “Committing suicide.” The nerve of these “insnowmane” kids.

INTERVIEWER Ahaha, okay then–

BONHOMME What was that laugh for? You think this is some joke? You’re just as twisted as the little kids.

INTERVIEWER Oh, heavens no. I didn’t laugh. Now, onto questions from our readers. Billy from Langley asks, “Do you eat your carrot noses when you’re hungry?”

BONHOMME No. What kind of question is that? Would you eat your nose if you were hungry?

INTERVIEWER True, true, we wouldn’t eat our noses and neither would you. Little Suzy from Surrey asks us, “Are there any secrets that you snowmen keep from us?”

BONHOMME Yes.

INTERVIEWER Will you tell us some?

BONHOMME If I did, they wouldn’t be secrets any more. I will however drop a hint to one of the most mind-blowing snowman secrets in the history of snowmen.

INTERVIEWER Oh, please do share!

BONHOMME Pineapple.

INTERVIEWER ...Well, that was helpful.

BONHOMME You’re welcome.

INTERVIEWER And now, to conclude our interview with Mr. Bonhomme, we’d like to provide him with a walk in freezer equipped with a cold tub for him and his friends to relax in! Any last words before we end the show Mr. Bonhomme? ... Oh wait, never mind. Mr. Bonhomme has left us to go see his new cold tub and eat a pineapple. Well.....Happy Holidays, folks! Take care.

“I LOOK RATHER SPIFFY IF I DO SAY SO MYSELF. SINCE FRENCH IS A MANDATORY COURSE UNTIL GRADE 9, CHILDREN WILL

HAVE TO LEARN ABOUT ME WHETHER THEY LIKE IT OR NOT!”

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DESPITE MY BIG SMILE, I WAS SCARED. WHERE was I? After a long, dark journey filled with bumps and bruises, I was sitting on a narrow structure filled with fellow travelers. They were unharmed, although fatigued after the long journey. All of us were glad to be free, though; we had fresh air and at least we weren’t caged anymore.

WE ALL SAT MOTIONLESS AND in silence, as through we were waiting for something to happen. My thoughts wandered around the room we were sitting in. It was cozy, I decided, filled with the aroma of sweet scents, with greenery hung at every column. I noticed I had a long red necklace hanging around my neck. It was pretty and had a squared pendant with a few squiggly lines engraved in it. I bent over to see if the others had received the same, but I never got a chance to look.

A LARGE FIGURE, ABOUT FIFTY times the size of me, emerged through the door. The ringing of bells scared the daylights out of me, which made me fall onto the ground flat on my face. My face burned with shame. How could I have been so clumsy and off-balance? Before I could start to collect myself, I was face to face with the figure. I was frightened; what was he going to do to me? Slowly, I looked up; the large figure was covered in red from head to toe.

COULD THIS BE A MAN, I THOUGHT? BEFORE I had time to further investigate he started pulling at my necklace. Was he crazy? Did he want to strangle me? Take the necklace but spare my fuzzy coat, I thought. I wanted to yell and shout, but my lips were frozen into a smile. My breath began to get caught in my throat. Soon, the figure released my pendant. I was relieved, but he still had a firm grasp around me. Fear

started to rush through me again as he took out a colorful squared box.

HELPLESSLY, I PANICKED AS THE large figure put me into the square. Then it was black. I was trapped inside a prison like space. I heard the ringing of bells which meant I was being taken out of the room. As the figure took me away, I jumbled in my tight box. This was another journey I thought and I had to make it through. I wanted to be back on the narrow ledge with my buddies. As we came to a halt the figure had put me down. I just lay there, slumped in loneliness inside the box.

AFTER A LONG PERIOD OF TIME, I HEARD THE voices of children. My heart burst in joy. I had been found. Please someone take me out of here! As if heard, someone ripped open my little prison. “A teddy,” they screamed in joy and hugged me close. I had gained my freedom once again.

“MY THOUGHTS WANDERED... [THE ROOM] WAS COZY, I DECIDED,

FILLED WITH THE AROMA OF SWEET SCENTS...”

BY NAVDEEP GILL

A JOURNEYTO FREEDOM

SHORT

STORY

11

December snowflakesAre as unique as we are.A Hipster season.

Sugarplum FairiesDance as they sing a sweet song

A Splenda-filled dream

Frosted flakes are a Great treat, but the real thing isSomething you should not eat.

Tree branches are bare,A sad time for changing leaves.

Springtime please come soon.

HOLIDAY HAIKUS

BY AMIRAH WOODSPECIAL MENTION

TO ASHLEY SPARROW

POETRY

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When we’re young, naïve and small

A day exists that beats them all

It’s full of magic, cheers and joy

That’s felt by every girl and boy

Trees with coloured lights stand tall

As Santa sits at every mall

The young ones, sheepish, shy and coy

Though once they’re older, ask for toys

The church bells sing a happy chime

As gentle wall clocks keep the time

Hot chocolate mugs fill to the brim

As sleepy children wait for him

The family feasts, worth every dime

And after, kids begin to climb

The snow white hills, the skies fall dim

And search for Frosty’s lost twig limb

Why is it, then, that when we’re old

December seems to turn so cold?

The lights just don’t burn quite as bright

That special day, just one more night

The places that our gifts are sold

Are laced in tacky green and gold

And festive music, an old delight

We start to hate with all our might

As children dance and toddlers play

Those who are older dread the day

That used to mean much more than debt

And how many presents you would get

So what I hope for, why I pray

Is for you to think a different way

Remember the magic, and never forget

As you ask, “Is it Christmas yet?”

BY DEVYN BOHUN

IS IT CHRISTMAS YET?

POETRY

13

Once in the sky sat a horrible city full of cruel, volatile people, who always fought and lied. They lived horrid lives, so horrid in fact, they were placed up in the sky, far from the good people below. Each winter, the clouds would bypass the city, reluctant to share their snow with such a frightful bunch. However, the wind would blow on the city twice as hard, bringing about a bitter cold.

But, feeling sympathetic, a single cloud resolved to pardon the people of the city in the sky and try to share with just one house. So, on Christmas Eve, he flew far up into the sky. Searching for the very smallest house - the only house he felt he could cover in snow - and stayed all night to snow.

When morning came, a child of only three padded down the stairs of the tiny house, startled by the peace outside, the silence that the soft blanket of snow brought. She peeked outside, then stepped out into the snow fervently. Eager to share her discovery, she filled her own red bucket to the very top with snow and dragged it to her neighbor’s house. She knocked on the door gingerly and as it opened, she pushed the bucket towards the doorway.

Baffled at the gesture, the neighbor - Elizabeth Brudit - accepted the bucket awkwardly, her face twisting into a near-smile and fumbling with the words, “Oh thank you,” as she watched the child traipse away.

Why would the child do such a thing, she thought to herself. In this weather her fingers would surely freeze. Why, they might fall right off!

Then, a strange idea formed in her mind. Perhaps she could bring the little girl mittens. She had never thought of giving anything away before. She didn’t think anyone in the city could fashion such a scheme, but she couldn’t bear to see the poor thing outside with bare hands on such a terrible day.

She walked over to the house, early hidden with snow, and left the little girl a pair of mittens. While she was out, she thought she may as well bring a pot of tea to the lonely old man down the way; Elizabeth was an efficient woman and she didn’t see any point to putting on such a great, bulky jacket for such a short trip outside.

The old man thanked her for the tea, and then plodded off to another house with a gift of his own. And so it went as the day continued: neighbors bringing gifts to neighbors. The city felt different, Elizabeth decided as she wandered the streets - it didn’t feel nearly as cold.

She sat on the bench, watching the day slowly grow darker again. People began to gather in the streets, clad in lumpy jackets and carrying bright lanterns. Some brought instruments, waddling along with a new found confidence. The streets filled with laughter and the smug sounds of old brass horns. The lanterns shone with a new light as the sky dimmed.

When the sun finally set, the crowd grew quiet and their eyes grew wide. They stood in awe, lifting their faces upwards slowly as the sky filled with millions of dancing snowflakes.

THE TALE OF ELIZABETH

BRUDIT AND THE FIRST

WHITE CHRISTMAS

BY ALANA BREITKREUTZ

SHORT STORY

14

The grand windows faced out over a small valley - more of a dip really - and when it was summer, a small pond could be seen, which, at the moment, was beneath snow and ice. A fake fire crackled in the glass enclosed fireplace, enveloping the room with heat, although making it seem even emptier in the grand room. The room felt cold to me, as cold as I was inside.

I was perched on the couch stiffly next to my brother holding a mug of hot chocolate. Mine was mostly gone, but his was almost full; he was using his primarily for heating his hands. A space of about a foot sat between us, but it might as well have been the Grand Canyon for all I could reach I cross it. This had been going on for days: false cheeriness, ignoring the freakin’ huge elephant practically sitting on us.

How my older brother looked in my mind’s eye and how he really appeared were two different things. To me, he was still the strong, young man with the happy-go-lucky aura and a certain mirth dancing in his eyes. In reality he was thin - deathly thin - and frail, all liveliness sucked out of him. The toque he wore only added to the allusion; he was wearing it to hide his loss of hair.

Maybe it was me dropping the mug and watching it shatter on the rug - mom’s favorite one! - or maybe I just couldn’t stand the words drowning me, but I started shaking. Everything I had never said and everything I wish I had never said filled my head, killing me slowly. Tears slowly welled in my eyes and spilled down my cheeks. Abruptly, I throw myself on my brother, clinging to him as if I were the one dying. He cautiously set his cup down and hugged me back just as fiercely. I sobbed and sobbed, and when I took the time to memorize his features, I noticed he was clenching his jaw, tears poised to fall.

“I love you,” I said. Why had I not told him that before? Why had I ever turned him down when he offered to play video games? Why had I never...

If only I had known.

“I know,” he said just as softly, “I love you too.”

Time passed as the snow fell, reminding me of an hourglass; that’s all life really was anyways. This would be the last Christmas with my brother.

The snow swirled outside, piling up against the cabin, creating little drifts while lacing the trees and frosting the ground - burying us alive.

“To me, [my brother] was still the strong, young man

with the happy-go-lucky aura and a certain mirth

dancing in his eyes.”

BY ANNA ALEXIS

SNOW LIKE ANHOURGLASS

SHORT

STORY

15

THE WORD “CHRISTMAS” lights up children’s eyes and ignites them with hope. But is he real? It is the question every parent dreads to hear. Many claim, “I’ll just tell them. What’s the point? They’re going to find out anyway,” and ,” I can’t lie to my own kids.” Wrong. You have every right to and here’s why.

THOUGH YOU ARE BEING untruthful, your intentions remain admirable. All parents or guardians want their children to be joyous, especially during Christmas time. The moment you open your mouth to inform them of the ‘Santa Secret’, the dreams and hoes will dissipate into thin air. Santa Claus may be imaginary, but he lives in the minds of children. Without this belief, Santa’s immaculate beard and flushed carmine cheeks will transform into a heap of ashes.

EVERY CHILD WISHES TO believe in something magical and pure. Remember that the belief in Santa Claus is the final frontier of innocence, and to deny them that is to rob them of wonderful part of childhood. When you tell your children that here is no Santa, they will very likely tell their classmates that there is no Santa, thus destroying their belief when their parents would have it so. Expect many calls from angry parents demanding answers as to why your child told theirs that Santa Claus is not real.

ALSO, WITH THE THOUGHT that Santa is watching their every move stirring in children’s imaginative minds, they will be on their best behavior. It’s a win-win situation. They get to believe n Santa Claus and you get a peaceful night’s sleep.

WE SHOULD NOT BE IN SUCH a hurry to take away a child’s innocence and magic that exists when they’re young. Because after all, isn’t that what childhood is all about?

SANTA CLAUS IS A LEGENDARY MAN. HE IS THE MAIN REASON

THE SANTA SECRET WHY SHOULD YOU KEEP IT?

BY HANNAH CHAU

ARTICLE

16

Winter envelops the streets with cold air and tepid emotions,

The atmosphere turns icy and frigid, but my spirit remains warm.

Winter unites souls through forests and across vast oceans,

Something about this frozen has the ability to charm.

White blankets that cloak the city conceal all malevolence and hate,

Only splendid thoughts of warm, joy and selflessness are visible.

We set aside each other’s wrongs, receiving a clean slate,

We learn to share; we are so bountiful and everything is divisible.

This is the time and occasion where we become more than strangers

More than just solitary people getting through their daily grinds,

More than just emotionless humans living and avoiding life’s dangers

We become a whole, bearing similar thoughts of winter in our minds.

Before winter, ideas of hate and spite harden like wet cement,

If only winter endured all year, I believe we would all be more content.

BY PATRICK FORTALEZA

WHY I LOVEWINTER

POETRY

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A blast of Arctic air rushes at me as I make my way outside for a walk in winter

wonderland.

I white, perfectly formed snowflake falls out of the luminous night sky and onto my

mitten-covered palm,

melting before my eyes and dissolving into frost, cold water.

More snowflakes with their timeless beauty drift along with the frigid wind making

the cold seem more bearable.

I lean my head back and stick out my tongue to taste the crystallized fluff

disintegrate within seconds.

Snow covers the deserted street and the trees glisten, illuminated by light emitting

from the street lamps.

Feeling like I am in my own personal heaven, I twirl around,

surrounded by impeccable, sparkling snow, savoring the moment.

Evening strolls in the winter should be cherished.

Arriving home to the aroma of calescent coca tickling my nose is extraordinary, and

brings back so many childhood memories.

Sitting with a classic Christmas novel in hand by the window with the fireplace on,

the flames crackling in the background

I guarantee can make all your troubles dissipate.

Snug as a bug in a toasty warm sweater and pajamas,

I know that winter is truly the most wonderful time of the year.

SURROUNDED BY PURE WHITE

BY NAV DHALIWAL

POETRY

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THANKS FOR SUPPORTING SPARTANS SPEAK; WE’RE

OFFICIALLY ONE YEARS OLD AS OF DECEMBER 15TH!

WE’D LIKE TO TAKE A MOMENT TO THANK OUR READERS AND

SUPPORTERS.

MERRY CHRISTMAS & HAPPY NEW YEARS. WE’LL BE BACK

IN JANUARY!

MEANWHILE, PASS THIS MAGAZINE ON TO THE PERSON BESIDE YOU AND SHARE THE HOLIDAY SPIRIT.

THANK YOU!

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PASS THIS MAGAZINE ON TO THE PERSON

BESIDE YOU & SHARE THE HOLIDAY SPIRIT.

THANK YOU!

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