JULIE ANN STEVENS

I start down the hill.

I feel the nippy air on my face.  On my way down I spot what seems to be a lost trail.  I ski in it deliberately.

The trees around me make a fence-like form as if protecting something in the forest.  I ride over jumps that look like turtle shells emerging from the bright ocean.

This is such a blast.  Suddenly I see something ahead, something big.  It’s a jump!

It looks more like a tiny mountain to me.  I start to go really slow.  I go up the jump, my tips about to lead me down when I slowly start to slide back down.  This causes a jam.  My friends and I all look like a clump of squirming snails. 

At last I go around the tiny mountain where I find another jump.  I gain speed, my face freezing more with every second that ticks by.  I shoot up into the air flying (more like flailing).  I land gracefully into the powdery snow below me. 

I ski down to the bottom and look up at the hill.  “Success” that’s what comes to my mind.  We all worked together and had fun.  That’s what I call success.

— written by mimi, age 12, rock star.