A Scoop Of Hope

Translator: Mehmet Akif Acar (15 years old)

Illustrator: Elif Sena Bilgin (12 years old)

- Hatice had lost her hope. She wouldn't be able to do it, this job wasn't for her. She has been looking at the paper in front of her for hours. Nothing was coming to her mind. I will not be able to pass the exam again, she thought. Her body began to shiver, and the pencil in her hand dropped. Flop!

- You can do it, said the chair.

- We believe in you, said the clothes on top of the laundry

What could be useful, it wasn't working. The painting on the wall recommended she go outdoors. That painting was her favorite among the furniture. She didn't argue with it since childhood. She accepted this idea just for its sake. She put the paper in her pocket with anger after wrinkling it. She picked up the pencil and put it in the other pocket.

It was cold and dark outside. It was a craziness to get out with a T-shirt. But this was something Hatice considered a hobby. The streets were empty. The wind was blowing at her face, and her ginger hair was waving. She sat on the green grass that gave ideas sometimes to Hatice.

- Welcome, said the Grass.

- You can do it, said the rose, and her newborn babies supported her too.

- You are the best writer I ever met said the old pine.

Hatice smiled. She stretched her legs to the humid grass, and she raised her head, looking at the stars lining up side by side like pearls on a navy blue sheet. The smallest star among them blinked trust givingly to Hatice. All these were stitching up the small wound on Hatice's heart. She took the wrinkled paper out of her pocket and opened it, took the pen out of her other pocket. She could start writing it now, she closed her eyes.

She put grass, and stars inside. She listened and put the music of birds, and she put the old pine tree. Grass, rose even the chair... Most important, she put a scoop of hope. She opened her eyes.

- Let me see, let me see said the grass.

Hatice began to read her text. Old Pine corrected some places, this made her text even better. She had to go now. The sun was rising. She said goodbye to everyone.

Hatice's teacher was looking at her angrily by putting her arms to her hip. She made her black hair in a tight bun. She wore a purple dress that was a bit tight for her. She lent her hand; she was looking at Hatice and the paper at Hatice's hand with her black eyes. Hatice slowly lent the paper to her teacher's hand. Her teacher was angry because of the wrinkled paper and the negligence of the handwriting. She sled her eyes fastly through the text. She seemed impressed. Hatice was seeing her teacher like this for the first time. When her teacher saw Hatice looking, she tidied up and returned to her serious mood.

- Ahem ahem, alright you passed the test but...

Nobody could be happier than Hatice at the moment. Victory screams echoed in the apartment. She was running from here to there and was dancing. Her teacher's eyes and mouth were left open after seeing these. She completed her word after closing her mouth with her hand.

- But write it properly, she said.

Hatice took the paper from her hand and thanked her. She quickly went down the stairs. She came next to the grasses and raised her arms towards the sky. Everybody was looking to her, to her happiness. She thanked with the happiness.

- Thank you, friends, thank you, Allah.