women had put millennia of years into baking her pie.
She had carefully chosen her ingredients, making sure
she had everything correct. She was finally ready to
give it away. She knew that humans were in desperate
need of her pie. She called her pie the Peace Pie. It
had sprinkles of hope, with dollops of charity. It had
the whites of justice, and a spoonful of fairness. It
had a dash of possibilities, and a bag of love. Her
Peace Pie was to help humanity heal, to help them learn
from their mistakes. She would give a slice to each
each bite, old wounds would heal, war would cease, and
love would flourish. She would serve it upon a dish
of the world, along with a napkin of water and sliver
wear of clay. She would send it on a ship of Courage,
along with a crew of Luck, Truth, and Wisdom. They would
deliver it to Mother Nature, who would warm it up in
the fires of Kindness. Then it would pass onto Endurance,
who would carry it to each of the continents.
woman was proud of her pie; with the golden brown center
with perfectly crinkled crusts. With the delicate designs
etched into the flaky skin. With the floating steam
wafting up in sweet scented clouds. She knew her pie
would take away the heartache of hatred.
women held her pie in a green cloth with yellow spots,
holding the homey smell within the well-worn and musty
blanket. Her wheat colored hair flew back in messy waves
as she stood, her piercing blue eyes staring off to
some distant ocean, looking for the ship.
it came, she delivered it to Wisdom. He took it and
sailed on the ship of Courage, the ship with the beaten
hull and tattered sails. He sailed across the turbulent
waves of patience, all the way to the jungle of Mother
Nature. She warmed it up in her furnace of kindness,
and passed it on to the swift feet of Endurance. He
took it and gave a slice to each continent.
All of them, whether it be chilly Antarctica with snow
that blinded your eyes, or the desert lands of Africa
with sand that burns your feet, welcomed their slice
of pie with desperate hope, last hope. Then, all of
them took a bite, and with that, the end turned into
a new beginning.
is 12 years old and goes to University Elementary School.
She enjoys playing soccer and she especially loves writing
poetry. Ping got her interest in writing mainly from
all the reading she does; this inspired her to make
her own stories and experiment with her own styles.
Through all of these things, she is greatly supported
by her loving father and sister!