by Teodora P.

There are some moments when you start losing yourself simply because you’ve been someone else for such a long time. And you can’t tell people around you what’s wrong because it’s hard watching them not knowing what to do. But somewhere is this world, your story is someone’s survival guide – a gift you constantly have to shape.

I was there, in front of the classroom with my body completely freezing, my mind still fighting to get out of the bunch of thoughts flying round and round. I could feel all my classmates staring at me and waiting for my answer to finally show up on the board, or just for me to say something. I gave them a brief look and curled my fingers around my waist tightly, then decided to write some of the words found on the paper I was holding in my hand. And all of a sudden some kind of wave hit me right in the face and I whispered: `I can’t go on. I…I can’t do it.` No one could hear me, so I took a short breath, writing again a few more letters. I kept telling myself to stay there, but all I’d been listening to since I got there were their laughters, their loud, though faded voices. Then, another breeze hit me, this time harder. I leaned on the board and dropped on my knees dizzily. I managed to hear some of people behind me saying `Maybe she’s too tired.`, `She doesn’t know how to do it.` A little tear fell down my cheek, burning. While trying to wipe it carefully, the wave punched me one more time. I took a deep breath. I breathed twice – it hurt. One more breath – a warm voice embraced me, taking me back to that place, now deeply silent.

`Whenever the thought that you can’t do it comes to your mind, remember what your most precious gift – is your voice. It’s right there, in your soul, in your body, in your being.`

There are some moments when you start losing yourself simply because you’ve been someone else for such a long time. And even if it’s hard to talk with people around you, there will be someone to hear your words even when you’re quiet. My gift was still there, waiting for me to open it. I just needed to remember that my voice is what makes me who I am.

by Vladimir D.

I could only hear the birds chirping and flying through the tree branches and leaves. The little box in front of me didn’t seem too interesting. It was a simple wooden box, covered in dirt.

Before I arrived here, in the middle of nowhere, I had been playing hide-and-seek with my friends. Perhaps they were still somewhere around here… or not. I wasn’t too bothered by that, honestly. After some time, the small box started to gain my interest. I’m not sure if it was actually glowing or not, since many people told me that everything I see or say doesn’t sound real, but I really wanted to open it. And so I did.

A bright light fell upon me. Was it the box? When I took a look at it, it was now gone. A little frog stood in its place. It had a nice hat and fancy boots. “Greetings, friend!” It said, and right after, it continued “I apologise for my rudeness, but I must go. Please leave the box alone next time.” And so, it disappeared. I thought it was another dream of mine, but the little frog had left a red pinecone behind. I took it and ran back home to show it to my friends, who laughed at me, as always. Still, I knew it was my little gift, from the little frog in the little box, for little me.

by Mara S.

When I was sixteen, I learnt that even humans collect long, white, delicate feathers from the angels’ wings. Not everyone accepts them, but this is not a story about denial, but patience.

I remember Eli, my childhood friend, acting ecstatic for being accepted into a voluntary program during the summer. I got in too, but my enthusiasm didn’t match hers, much rather because I only wanted to win a bet I had with my brother. The things I did for winning…

I had never done voluntary work before, let alone with elderly people, but I wanted to prove Michael wrong. I didn’t.

I intentionally skipped the first half of the initial week just because I was nervous and scared of failure.

”You should see the people there!”, Eli tried to persuade me the third time the fourth day I missed. ”They are simply so nice and I get along with them extremely well. Please?”

I couldn’t resist her plea and, on Friday, I made my debut. Everything was… different. But in a good way. I felt like I had entered a community where everyone was friends with everyone. In a few hours I grew closer to a particular person – Miss Nana, I remember her even now, always wearing a green hand watch – and, by the end of the month, the voluntary center became one of my favorite places to be at. It was a gift. From both myself and the elders. I couldn’t touch it, but I could feel it in my heart, growing each stunning day I came there. I have it even now, as I am writing these words, knowing I’ll treasure forever the kindness I had been shown by the ones who needed me, encouraging me to believe in myself

by Teodora C.

I was waken up by the glorious  sunlight shining on my face through the window. It was beautiful, so I shut the drapes. I didn’t want anything to do with this day. I wanted to just skip it. But that hope went away the second my grandfather came in with a stack of pancackes singing “Happy Birthday”. I wanted to just crawl under the covers and sleep, but the smile on his face wouldn’t let me. We went downstairs and ate the pancackes (they were good, can’t argue with that) and was about to go back to my room, when my grandpa said “Go get dressed and meet me at the car when you’re ready”. Every single muscle of my body was saying “No”!!!! but I pretty much had no other option, so I changed and, about an hour later, I was standing in the passenger seat of my grandfather’s pick-up truck. He sat next to me and we drove for a while, and I was relieved that all this time we didn’t say a word. I was clearly not in the mood, and my grandpa seemed to understand that.

And so, after two muffins and about half an hour of driving, we arrived at what seemed to be some kind of small forest. He got out of the car and took out a basket from the backseat. He signaled me to follow him, so I did. We walked for a while through the woods, until we got to a small cliff. We sat there and my grandfather put his arm around my shoulder and gently said:

“I used to bring your mother here back when she was your age.” A tear rolled down my cheek, as I said with a shaky voice: “Thank you, and held him tight. It was the first birthday since my parents passed away, and he somehow managed to make it the best. And I sat there, happy to receive the best gift I could’ve ever hoped for.

by Casandra P.

A gift. It was only a gift, and yet here I am writing about it to you, dear gentle reader.

   I’ve always been a hopeless romantic, and I’ve been dreaming that one day or night, someone will come to my door and offer me something that I’ll never forget. High school with halls full of drama won’t give me a sign or a light to cross my path, to show true romance. But I’m exaggerating, that’s for sure.

   Allow me to begin again. One night. One beautiful starry night, I was all alone. Only the moon was turning its face towards me. I heard a sound like a little humming. My room was suddenly filled with it, and my heart, beating with hope and dreams, told me to go to the window and seek the one calling me. I froze. I thought I was dreaming. A person I’d never seen before, holding a present was singing to me, no, it was singing for me and the stars.

   I heard it say, “Come down, my dear star!” And I know what you’re thinking. You think I’m mad crazy but let me finish. As I was saying, once I got downstairs, the person handed me the gift. I wanted to say thank you, but the person disappeared. Inside the gift there was a quote that said : “Love is hard to find, you might lose patience waiting for it to come, but once you have it, once you find it you’ll never want to lose it or forget it”    It got to my heart. From then on, I’ve been waiting and waiting and waiting, but I’m happy. It’s a gift that I’ll never forget or lose.

by Smaranda A.

    Shivering, she whispered a weak: ”Thank you”. “No one has ever treated me so kindly in the past fifteen years.”

   One freezing cold winter morning, I headed out, wearing a brand new silky soft scarf, just received for my birthday, from my aunt. I was walking slowly, admiring the numbed land and the fragile snow under my pace. My destination was, of course, the library. I had heard about a new novel from my teacher, and wanted to read it just then. The cold was blurting my senses, making me weak, and red in the cheeks. After a mesmerizing walk, I entered the old dusty room of the library, the fantasy section. It was so cold in that building, there was no wonder no one was there to help me find the book I was so eager to read. Just then, an old poorly dressed lady appeared in front of me. She asked calmly: “ What are you looking for, my dear?”

“Nothing special. A fantasy book I’ veheard you have just brought in.”

“Oh, yes, of course! Follow me!”

Walking behind the old woman, I couldn’t help but feel strange. I had one of the most beautiful scarves for this winter, and she barely had a jacket to wear in the cold. Following her, she led me to some dusty stairs, and said:

“This is where I’m sleeping, I have just finished reading the book darling. There, you can have it”. She gave me the novel, trembling because of the cold. Her hand was frozen, as I touched it hesitantly. Then, I couldn’t help but remember the magic of gift giving, as the season was approaching. In spite of it being almost Christmas, the lady was sleeping in a dusty stairway, shivering under a poor blanket.

             Then, as I wanted to walk outside, too shaken upon what I had witnessed, an idea came to my mind. I went home, that night, and wrapped all the winter clothes I couldn’t wear anymore, a bag of sweets and a puffy huge and heavy blanket. The next day, I went to the lady and told her:

          “As you share your gift with us, children, you deserve a gift yourself”. I then learnt the ways of living, and since then, I have always visited her, and we have tea together once in a while.

De Ziua Internațională a Cititului Împreună v-am pregătit o surpriză! Sunteţi pregătiţi?

Ziua Internațională a Cititului Împreună (ZICI) sau mai bine cunoscuta World Read Aloud Day se sărbătoreşte de 14 ani în peste 173 de ţări din lume în prima zi de miercuri a lunii februarie. Ea a fost creată cu intenția de a evidenția puterea cuvintelor și a lecturii. Atunci când o poveste este citită cu voce tare într-un grup, conexiunea creată între oameni, precum și înțelegerea textului lecturat sunt mai profunde. Anul acesta v-am pregătit o surpriză pe 7 februarie 2024….

World Read Aloud Day invită deopotrivă copiii, adulţii, educatorii şi profesorii deopotrivă să redescopere farmecul cititului cu glas tare, bucuria de a transmite mesajul unei poveşti sau poate chiar al unei glume, adăugându-i acesteia amprenta emoţională a vocii fiecăruia dintre noi. Cu ocazia acestei zile o întreagă serie de autori de limba engleză din toată lumea vor lectura online. Mai mult, LitWorld ne adresează încă din anul 2022 o provocare plină de întorsături oferind în acelaşi timp resurse şi modele de construire a unei povestiri la adresa  Build A Story Challenge – LitWorld®.

Provocarea specială pe care o adresăm anul acesta tuturor cititorilor este de face parte din echipa noastră. Cum? Simplu: Spune-ne o glumă! Mai mult… Ai visat vreodată să-ți auzi gluma interpretată live de Inchy the Bookworm? 🎙️✨ Acum este șansa ta! Trimite-ne o glumă pe care să o citim împreună!  Trimiteți-ne cele mai amuzante glume, iar Inchy ar putea să vă dea poantei o întorsătură ciudată în timpul WRAD Live! Pregătește-te să râzi în hohote 🤣📝#InchyJokes #WRADJokes

Atenţie! Bibliotecile şi şcolile din toată lumea îşi așteaptă cititorii de toate vârstele să sărbătorească Ziua Cititului Împreună. Lecturile publice, jocurile şi atelierele de creaţie vor face atractivă „călătoria” prin tărâmurile magice ale lecturii. Şi nu uita: dacă ai nevoie de de o muză sau de puţină inspiraţie pentru a face o glumă încearcă Inchy’s Joke Jam Generator!

Dacă sunteţi cadru didactic vă invităm să faceţi parte din comunitatea profesorilor care folosesc inteligenta artificială: Curipod’s Teacher Community. Dacă doriţi să înregistraţi un eveniment la care să invitaţi şi pe alţi cititori sau doriţi să participaţi împreună cu noi, fie că sunteţi mici sau mari, nu ezitaţi să vă înscrieţi la WRADLive.com. 

Nu uitaţi: Cititul cu voce tare sporeşte interesul pentru cărţi, îmbunătăţeşte vocabularul, înţelegerea, şi cunoştinţele de gramatică, precum şi capacitatea de concentrare.

Mesajul nostru de suflet este deschis tuturor unicornilor anonimi (Unicorns Anonymously United).

ZICI 2024: Trimite-ne o glumă pe care să o citim împreună! (#ReadAloudDay #InchyJokes #WRADJokes)

by Dan

I am quite an optimistic person and I have never thought of a specific day as the worst day of my life. However, a bad day was when i broke my leg, more exactly, my ligament. It was a bad day not because of the pain, but because it was annoying and a huge loss of time. The way i broke it was also really stupid. I was playing football with my dad, he passed the ball, but the strong wind gave it a sudden boost and i stepped right on top of it. I slipped on it and fell. After that I lost an absurd amount of time in hospitals, waiting for my leg to recover.

Overall it was a pretty nasty experience which I’d rather not repeat.

by Natalia

Today was the worst day of my life. Let me tell you more about it.
It all started great, I woke up, washed my face, brushed my teeth, changed my clothes, and left for school. I was on the left side of the road when, out of the blue, a dog came running and barking at me. I’ve started running in the opposite direction but surely after I tripped over a rock and fell into the mud. I had to go back home, change my clothes and then go back to school despite missing the first class. The next 2 classes went fine but then I had history. For some reason, the teacher was annoyed and decided to give us a test. Had I known she was going to ask random questions from last class, I would have at least read the lesson. Anyway, I’ll pass with an F too, cause I have 2 A s and a B. As if nothing could get worse, I got home, and guess what, my little sister, Emily, an “angel”, decided to be creative with my laptop and painted two butterflies on it thinking that I would like it, but in the end she spilled the water and my laptop broke down. When I told mother, she blamed ME for not locking my room door. During the afternoon nothing really bad happened but, in the evening when I was taking a shower, the power cut out and the water came freezing. In the dark, when I got out of the shower, I slipped and twisted my right wrist. Now, here I am, a bit cold, writing you this letter.
How was your day?

by Sanziana

Itall started in a sunny November morning. I had a sleepover at my best friend’s house and, naturally, after going to sleep pretty late we woke up at almost 11 in the morning. My day begun pretty well, except I had no idea it would turn into the worst day of my life.

      First thing I did when I left the comfort and warmth of the bed was to check myself in the mirror and I could not help but to notice the huge eyebags I had after an almost sleepless night. My eyes were droopy and red, and not to mention surrounded by a dark purple-grey, definitely from the lack of rest I had gotten. My hair was ravished and my face was paler than usual. As tired as we were, Lila and I decided we should probably eat something to give our cheeks some of their colour back. We ascended down the stairs and entered the kitchen looking for some food and that is the moment it first happened. The previous night I was trying to avoid this, falling down the stairs, but this time it was impossible. It wasn’t the way it usually happened, step wrong and twist my ankle. This time I could not avoid it. It was like someone pushed me. I was just simply pushed forward. We got a few scratches that drew a little blood, but Lila and I tried to look past it. We laughed it off and went on with what we were doing, except happened again a few minutes later. I was walking around the house, not even on the stairs when I fell the second time. It just kept going on. I fell again and again on my way home, probably around 9 times. And the worst happened exactly as I got home. While walking up the stairs to my room, I tripped again. And this time it was different. I did in fact break my leg. Thankfully, my parents were home and they rushed me to the hospital where I could get treatment. I had to wear a cast for around one month, but I was lucky enough to be able to choose my own colour for it.

     It is safe to say that since then I have avoided going up or down the stairs. I must admit that this was in fact the worst day of my life.