A nineteen year old girl stands perplexed as the room full of cousins burst into laughter. Everyone is laughing, except her. She does not know what they all are laughing at. Excitedly she asks her cousin sister, “What happened? What happened?” The perplexed look on her face only results in them laughing harder. Finally one of them blurts out, “Pijjaa ! Hahahha say it once again! Pijjaa !” Everyone bursts into another round of laughter, high-fiving each other and some even rolling down the floor holding their stomachs. She looks around in confusion. Until one of her cousin's mother enters the room to check on the commotion. “Mummy, she called Pizza ‘Pijjaa' !” She says pointing towards her, seeking approval. There is an inherent sense of superiority in the way she looks at her, expecting her mother to join her. The mother hushes her off, “shhhh, it's bad manners to make fun of anybody.” Unlike her, all her cousins studied in English medium school. She did not know THAT the Difference between Pizza and Pijjaa was not merely of pronunciation, but Much More Than That. That, in a world of Pizza, ‘Pijjaa' was unforgivable, Pijjaa brought shame. The two come from two totally different planets, and their worlds never intersect. That this world applauds Pizza & shuns Pijjaa. That in the World of Pizza, Pijjaa did not Belong. That in this World Pizza had the Power to decide how ‘Pijjaa' would be treated. She earned a new name that day, the official “Behenji” of the group. She hated it from her core, she wanted to feel belonged too. But somehow, her skills, ability, talent and intelligence all got eclipsed behind the cardinal mistake. She had to pay the cost of not knowing the difference between ‘z' and ‘j'. Several years later when she gives birth, she decides her daughter is not going to face the same humiliation that she had faced. That she will send her to an English medium School. That she grows up Belonging. So then, did her daughter really grow up with a sense of Belonging ?
Thank you very much for participating in the Biopage Storytelling Writing Contest! The results are now available on the contest webpage: https://www.biopage.com/contest It was a very difficult decision to make! We received many high-quality essays from around the world, it was so difficult to pick the winners. We have “Children of war” from Shobana and “Peace is priceless” from David to reflect the ongoing wars in the world. We have “Where there is will, there is a way” from Shreya, “The warmth of the garden” from Brandon, and “Is it me?” from Emilia to describe their experience with mental disorders. We have “Gifts of December” from Lily about the lighter note of life. And we have “Seed of greatness” from Stephene about hope and growth in poetry! The winners will receive separate emails regarding award certificates and prizes. We are sorry that most of you will be disappointed; but remember you are all winners! Many participants appreciated the contest as an opportunity to stay away from the noisy social media, to really start writing again to express themselves and to tell stories. Please keep in mind that this is a recurrent contest; you are welcome to write another story and submit again! Please continue to stay in the community of Biopage, using the website or more conveniently the iOS app or Android app to continue to write, and to stay in touch with your friends and other writers. If you use the iOS app or Android app, please rate and write a review at the App Store or Google Play. We are giving out an Amazon gift card to each user who wrote a review about Biopage at the App Store. Please email admin@biopage.com with your App Store or Google Play ID name and a screenshot of the review, and the gift card may arrive in 2 weeks. A certificate of participation of the writing contest will be available upon request by email. Thank you and happy writing! The Biopage Writing Contest Committee
I always believed it was easier to be a villain than a hero. “Everything is simple, you fight only for yourself, not for others like a hero”. But it was not as simple as I thought. When I was in school many years ago, everyone in my class was “villain”, including me. We all studied to get better grades ourselves. We didn't help each other, we didn't even explain if one of us didn't understand, except one girl. There was the most intelligent girl in our class. She was shy, quiet and a bit mysterious. Everyone used her to raise their grades. They pretended to be her friends. However, they were fake friends like birds which flies when winter comes. One day I also decided to use her. Not to raise my grade, but to lower other classmates' grades through the essays we wrote and gave to the teacher for checking. Teacher believed her and gave this essays her for checking instead. I pretened to help her like others did. At that time, I talked with her alone for the first time. To be honest, she was different than I knew. Cheerful, kind and most importantly, sincere. She talked about her interest in drawing and what kind of pictures she drew. At this time, I wanted to distract her and achieve my goal. I hesitated, though. I felt fear and distemper inside. In order to be evil, one should not be a coward, but on the contrary, one should be brave, cold and strong. But at the same time, it took courage and strength not to be evil. These were different things that were similar to each other. And I became stronger, not to be villain. On my opinion, being the villain in someone's life isn't as cool as we watched movies. When someone becomes evil, he or she does evil to himself or herself first.
Little teacher Station. My all exams finished and I was waiting for bus. At that time sudden, I saw little, so pretty, sympathetic, clean and stylishly dressed a boy. He is about 4 or 5 years old. He used to collect garbage around the sidewalk so take it to special conteniars. I was watching the clever boy during a few time. This Street crowded, in this case lot of people look at the boy and shying for casting own garbage to walkway. They watched the boy a fewer time and blush from own behavior. I also watched the position so thought about doing goodness for enviroment. The goodness absolutely return to our life, even will influence to future. Definitely, being decent isn't depend on to age or format of humans. Those only depend on a person's soul and behavior. I figure out, the boy teach me that lesson, besides stayed at my mind as little teacher.
Life is a canvas waiting for a unique brushstroke, a journey filled with twists, turns, and moments that define your resilience. Life is interesting. The person who was jumping in front of you and playing with you yesterday may not be around tomorrow. I didn't think about such things before, because I didn't want to, but life forces us to realize these concepts. On the ceaseless snowy day of December 18. 2023 our bustling preparation for my mother's birthday added an extra layer of anticipation to the atmosphere. We were all happy and having fun celebrating my mother's birthday with my family. Only my brother had not yet come and we were all eagerly waiting for my brother. Suddenly, the distressing news we received on that fateful day plunged us into a collective state of shock, transforming what was meant to be a joyous celebration into an unexpected period of mourning. I got a call from my brother's phone saying that my brother was brought to the hospital in a serious condition and there was a strong possibility of death. For me, that day was a massive blow and no comfort could ease it. Once a week before, this incident happened, my brother and I had a big fight. And even without knowing it, I looked at him and said:" It would be better if you were not in our lives, you were created only to harm us. I wish you would die sooner." Each utterance I directed towards him in a tone of reproach reverberated so loudly within the confines of my mind that I found myself grappling with the challenge of justifying and consoling my troubled conscience. Around 2 a.m. in the morning, my brother was taken to a major surgery. My parents and I begged God at night not to take my brother's life and return him to us. At that time, my mother's struggles weighed heavily on my heart. . All my mother's prayers to God were very touching, even my heart was broken. At that time, I truly came to believe in the profound difficulty of being a mother. Around 5a.m my brother left this world. Darkness enveloped my vision, leaving me uncertain about what steps to take or what the future holds. My mother's cry resounded so painfully throughout the hospital that no one didn't cry. My parents, even I couldn't say a word that day. I couldn't wish such intense pain, such profound loss, even upon my enemy. In the following days, I realized that simple tasks became arduous, and the weight of loss pressed heavily on my shoulders. Amid these dark times, I sought solace in memories of happy times spent with my brother. One day, I stumbled upon a box filled with mementos from our happiest days. Photographs are frozen in time, capturing smiles, silliness, and the essence of our unbreakable bond. Each picture told a story, a testament to the love and joy we shared. In solitude, I began to discover myself through these memories. I found strength in the love we had for each other and gradually the pain started to subside. While the ache of loss never completely faded, I learned to navigate the world without my brother physically by my side. I carried his spirit with me, finding comfort in the knowledge that the happy times we shared would forever be a part of me. After this incident, I made a conscious effort to treat everyone in my life with equal kindness, learning from my mistake with my brother. Recognizing the fragility of life, I began to invest more time in my family and express my love and appreciation more frequently. Discussing this matter and recalling the circumstances from that time is a challenging task for me. However, such is life. It presents us with numerous highs and lows and we should brace ourselves for each. In sharing this story, my sincere intention is for you to value your dear ones and express your love to them regularly, because, in the end, they might not be with you tomorrow.
Station. My all exams finished and I was waiting for bus. At that time sudden, I saw little, so pretty, sympathetic, clean and stylishly dressed a boy. He is about 4 or 5 years old. He used to collect garbage around the sidewalk so take it to special conteniars. I was watching the clever boy during a few time. This Street crowded, in this case lot of people look at the boy and shying for casting own garbage to walkway. They watched the boy a fewer time and blush from own behavior. I also watched the position so thought about doing goodness for enviroment. The goodness absolutely return to our life, even will influence to future. Definitely, being decent isn't depend on to age or format of humans. Those only depend on a person's soul and behavior. I figure out, the boy teach me that lesson, besides stayed at my mind as little teacher.
I was sitting in the cell-like room of my dormitory while everyone was celebrating the end of the induction week at my University. Since the event was happening just outside the yard of the dorm, I could hear the voices of happy and energetic students who had participated passionately in all the activities during that week. I was blaming and questioning my mind and soul for not going outside, getting involved, and enjoying student life instead of reading boring Computer Science books. I asked myself why I could not become the person who exposes myself to people, is extroverted, and enjoys the life she is experiencing. Yes, I was the person who buried myself in my world, only studying, desiring good grades, and aiming to become a professional. But seeing the outside world and my coursemates being very communicative, managing both study and extracurriculars, made me wonder if I was not using my full potential. Deep down, I knew that the solution was going outside, meeting my new coursemates, and forming friendships by exchanging ideas on how to start our academic journey. The difference between them and me was my frustration at that very moment. A stream of questions ran through my mind, and with some courage, I barely pushed myself after that incident. I began visiting small events and participating in national holidays held at different places, but I was still afraid to approach and be sociable in front of people. After the first midterms, I witnessed many students struggling to get good grades and master some subjects. Since I am good at math, I decided to mentor my peers. That is when my A+Club came to life. I started talking with my peers who were good at other subjects and invited them to share their knowledge with those struggling. I organized the days to teach each class, made announcement posts, reserved rooms after classes, and created sample question papers, managing my personal life simultaneously. Almost all students visited A+Club's mock exams, as my prepared questions closely resembled those of the professors. Most failing students in midterms succeeded in finals due to their hard work and the unconditional help from peers through A+Club's learning space. I have developed adaptability, problem-solving, and courage, realizing my full potential and correctly using it for the community around me. This realization led me to be a leader in two student clubs and an ambassador in three social organizations. Because I embody effective altruism. I am always ready to serve my community, helping each individual thrive by being a role model and a leader. Leadership and impact do not require a specific position or company; they start with beliefs and actions. When I see a societal problem, I do not just observe; I search for viable solutions, utilize my collective experience, learn new things, and put them into practice.
COVID, lets face it -- It was the most miserable part of everyone's life. The world outside my window seemed to fade into a grayscale existence. Isolation swallowed me. Each day was a struggle, a battle against the sadness and the feeling of loneliness that threatened to consume me. With no one to talk to, even though I was living with my parents, I didn't necessarily had the greatest relationship with them. I was a in my pre-teens and had the same temper and habits as any other pre- teen kid – staying in my room all day, not showering for days, not talking to anyone. Life became so monotonous and repetitive during that time. Now that I look back at it I am damn sure I was depressed, I used to cry for hours and hours. Desperation led me to find solace in stories and music, my only companions during those long, desolate days. I devoured books that transported me to different worlds, where the characters faced challenges and emerged victorious. Music became my refuge, each note a soothing balm to the wounds within. The end of the lockdown marked the beginning of a new chapter in my life. I started going to school again and made started interacting with people, I may have created an alter ego for myself in order to appear lively so people would like me. I talked to these classmates of mine whom I wouldn't have talked to if they weren't my classmates and as we spent our time together I started getting closer to them building the bonds of friendship which I desperately needed after that depressive phase. During our exam season we would study together on meet and often go to watch movies and plan house parties together. I felt a surge of gratitude for the friendships that had pulled me from the depths of despair. Together, we explored the world outside our confined spaces, breathing in the fresh air and savouring the colours that had returned to my life. The once-silent heart now echoed with laughter and the joyous symphony of friendship. My three companions had become my whole world, and I realized that even in the darkest times, the universe conspired to bring light into our lives. No longer held captive by depression, I embraced the newfound happiness that radiated from within. The stories and music that once provided solace were now interwoven with the tales of my own journey, a testament to the transformative power of connection. As the famous saying goes “tough times don't last but tough people do.” This picture was taken recently in house party for new years
Enchanted waters of Karakalpakstan Once in the center of the Republic of Karakalpakstan there was a charming Aral Sea, famous for its clear waters and quiet beauty. The locals believed that the sea had a mysterious power, protecting its lands, blessed with a rich harvest. One summer day, a young fisherman named Arman rode his boat to his village for fishing. As he penetrated deeper into the sea, he noticed a bright light radiating from the water. Oddly enough, he followed the light and found a hidden bay hidden inside the cliffs of the Aral Sea. To Arman's surprise, a group of ethereal mermaids living in the mystical blind met ethereal creatures with bright tails. They echoed across the sea and sang charming melodies that filled the air with magic and admiration. Mermaids told tales about the ancient guardians of the sea and the importance of maintaining its natural splendor. Inspired by the wisdom of mermaids, Arman returned to his village and brought the community together to protect the Aral Sea and its surrounding ecosystems. Together, they organized beach cleaning, sustainable fishing practices, and educational programs to raise awareness of the ecological importance of the sea. Years passed, and the waters of the Aral Sea remained clean, overflowing with living marine life. Travelers who came far and wide visited Karakalpakstan and watched the amazing Island Sea, which today is revered as a symbol of environmental harmony and community management. The Aral Sea of Karakalpakstan continued to flourish, serving as an eternal reminder of the transformative power and eternal magic of preserving nature.
My interest in literature was not born when I saw the light for the first time or when I started writing. Literature was born when I learned that a simple action can limit your dreams and the emergence of your being. When I was a child I became ill with something that at first seemed to be nothing bad, but eventually pushed me to the limit of my hopes. I didn't know what I had and neither did my parents. That yellow tone in my skin distinguished me from the healthy ones. The illness was momentary, but at the same time hard. I began my rest by stopping going to school, abandoning my classroom and my siblings and parents with it. My illness prevented me from taking care of the children and my sister's childhood. I settled in a room with four walls where darkness and solitude were my best allies. My mother and father never left me alone, every breakfast, lunch and dinner I would lovingly observe each one's face, I could not eat with them but I could contemplate their existence. - This would not last long. My mother told me My believing self resurfaced with those words, hope returned from where it left off and the possibilities of moving forward arose as never before. But boredom took hold of me, I didn't know what to do other than sleep and play. Although I was very critical from a very young age, I attributed it to the debates that went on in my family and not to books, because I read them for school. As my greatest hobby was pottery, which I could no longer touch or look at. One of those cold and boring days. My older sister came with many books. She watched me and did not hesitate to mention that each book contained a world inside. I didn't save the best reaction because I always considered books as tools for school and not for a being who was locked up. As time went by my being sought the need for distraction but not with books. - Not with that. I mentioned madly Every moment was torture, until my curious instinct awakened the intention to see only the cover of the books and if there was the need to read, it would be the books with pictures. I started with the book "El chibolo Pilas", interesting, but very fast to read, that work, kept everything that its title says, a boy who was looking for happiness, but was misunderstood in the world. Then, I was interested in reading a story titled "The Dolphin", those pages full of letters and images awakened my desire to read even more, I understood how the human being seeks the meaning of life, the importance of perseverance and faith, that faith that I lacked and had to develop. Allowing me to know new worlds from my room was the beginning of the being I am now. Books introduced me to literature and the power to imagine a comfortable environment for myself. When I was able to heal and return to my reality again, I began to read not out of necessity, but out of interest for my personal growth. Books were not a problem, but a solution. Perhaps if I had not become ill, it would have taken me a long time to recognize the greatness of letters and images.
Covid was a time of struggle for many, but it also brought people together. Whether it was finding a new hobby, or creating new friendships, there was a lot of good that came from it. I was one of those individuals who started a new path during lockdown. Like many kids, I was entered into a sport at the ripe age of four. Unlike other kids, I was not entered into soccer or gymnastics, I was entered into karate. Even though I despise the repetitiveness of sparring with people and memorizing routines, I was unaware I had the power to quit. I believed that I was stuck doing karate until I went to college in nine years. This all changed when Covid hit. Karate got switched to classes via Zoom, where instead of having a coach to teach you, you had to rely on watching others. Eventually, my parents realized how much I hated it. They agreed to let me stop doing online classes, and then return when they went back to in-person. Luckily for me, I found a better sport. I had just moved to a new school, one where I knew absolutely no one. I was not enjoying this new school because I didnt have friends. People were hesitant to talk to the new kids due to Covid. The only positive thing was, surprisingly, PE. Our first unit was swim and dive. I did not enjoy the swim part, but I loved the dive part. I enjoyed doing flips, jumping, and just having fun. To my advantage, I was not the only person who enjoyed it. A few other people in my grade decided to band together and ask the PE coach about her dive team. Before we knew it, we were all trying out our very first day of diving. Some of us loved it more than others, but I knew one thing for sure. Dive was going to be my new passion. Over the next few years, I started learning new diehard testing my major fear of heights. I loved the thrill I got when doing new dives, but also the joy I felt when I nailed one. Even with my history of ankle pain and injuries, I was still able to dive through it and enjoy every second of it. The only thing better than finding a sport I love is the friends I made. I've made countless connections with everyone on my team. Whether it's just that we are both scared of the same dive, or we hang out outside of practice, I love all of them. I do not think that me from before COVID would believe that I love going to practice and that I even look forward to it. I don't think that I who just started at a new school would believe that I made friends without having to intrude on someone else's friend group. All of these discoveries lead me to think that maybe everything happens for a reason. If not for covid, where would I be now? I probably wouldn't be diving, I probably would be suffering with a sport I hate.
Once upon a time, in a quaint coastal town, there lived a young girl named Lily. Lily had a heart full of compassion and a spirit that radiated kindness. She believed in the power of small acts of goodness and how they could create a ripple effect of positivity in the world. Lily's town was known for its picturesque beaches and vibrant community. But there was one thing that troubled Lily deeply - the pollution that was slowly suffocating the ocean. Determined to make a difference, she decided to take matters into her own hands. Armed with a pair of gloves and a determination to clean up the beaches, Lily started organizing weekly beach cleanups. She would wake up early every Saturday morning and rally her neighbors, friends, and even strangers to join her in her mission. Together, they would comb the shores, picking up litter and plastic waste, one piece at a time. Word of Lily's beach cleanups spread throughout the town, and soon, more and more people started joining her cause. What started as a small group of volunteers quickly grew into a community movement. People of all ages and backgrounds came together, united by their love for the ocean and their desire to protect it. As the beaches became cleaner, Lily realized that raising awareness was just as important as cleaning up. She started giving educational talks at schools and community events, teaching others about the impact of plastic pollution on marine life and the environment. Her passion and knowledge inspired others to make changes in their own lives, reducing their plastic consumption and adopting more sustainable habits. One day, a local artist named Mia approached Lily with an idea. She suggested creating an art installation made entirely from the plastic waste they had collected. Lily loved the idea, and together, they transformed the collected plastic into a stunning sculpture that depicted the beauty of the ocean and the importance of preserving it. The sculpture became a symbol of hope and a powerful visual reminder of the impact of human actions on the environment. It was displayed in the town square, attracting visitors from far and wide. People marveled at its beauty and were moved by the message it conveyed. News of Lily's efforts reached the ears of an environmental organization that was looking for young ambassadors to join their cause. Impressed by Lily's dedication and the impact she had made in her community, they offered her a position as a youth advocate. Lily eagerly accepted, seeing it as an opportunity to amplify her voice and create an even greater impact. As a youth advocate, Lily traveled to different towns and cities, sharing her story and inspiring others to take action. She worked with local governments, urging them to implement better waste management systems and promote eco-friendly practices. Her tireless efforts caught the attention of national media, and soon, Lily's message reached millions of people across the country. Years later, as Lily stood on a stage receiving an award for her environmental activism, she looked back at her journey with a heart full of gratitude. She realized that her small acts of goodness had sparked a movement that had transformed not only her town but also the hearts and minds of people everywhere. Lily's story serves as a reminder that every individual has the power to create change, no matter how small their actions may seem. It is through our collective efforts and the belief in our ability to make a difference that we can create a better and more sustainable world for future generations. And so, the story of Lily and her beach cleanups reminds us that the power to change the world lies within each of us. With compassion, determination, and a little bit of sand between our toes, we can create a wave of positive change that will wash away the pollution and bring back the beauty of our precious oceans.
The first time Avery asked about her mother, she was five. She didn't remember much. Just bits and pieces. But she did recall her and her dad were outside, sitting on their favorite bench – An old, worn-out piece of furniture they liked to lounge on to pass time. All starry-eyed, she asked her dad and got the standard, out-of-the-textbook answer. “She's in a better place hon,” he said, carrying her into his lap. She remembered looking into his eyes. “A better place?” She was confused. “What could be better than being with us?” He laughed and looked into the distance. “You're just going to ask her if you ever meet her.” Six years later, Avery finally understood what being in a better place meant. And to be honest, it didn't bother her as much as she expected. It had always been her dad who had been there for her. Plus, she had never met her mom before and didn't mind cutting her out of the picture. Personally, it was okay with just her and papa anyways. So, it could be imagined the shock fourteen-year-old Avery got, walking in on a phone call her dad was having. “You can't just –!” He was pacing up and down, a habit of his when he was nervous. “Thirteen years Kate! You didn't even call!” Avery moved her feet and began to climb the stairs. She knew when somebody needed their privacy. “But she's our daughter. Your child.” Avery stopped in her tracks. “Couldn't –” He paused. “Couldn't you come to see her at least once?” Silence. Then a muffled voice. And a sigh. Avery couldn't recall what happened exactly. All she remembered was the crushing feeling she had when she realized that her mum was actually alive and probably didn't want her. The shock went just as fast as it came. She made no indication that she knew, and her dad didn't deem it fit to tell her. So, life went on, until it didn't. At least for her dad. Avery was proud to say she didn't cry. Not when she found her dad on the floor. Not when he was rushed to the hospital by the neighbors. Not when she came to visit him and saw him all pale and haggard. Not when she heard the news. Not even after the funeral. She told herself over and over again that she would not cry, and she didn't. People she had never met. People she knew. Everyone told her it was going to be okay, that they understood. But Avery knew that they didn't. After the funeral, Avery had to stay with her dad's sister, Aunt Veronica. In order for that to work out, she had to move. New house, new school, new friends. It was all very strange for her. Everything seemed to be happening too fast for her to catch up. Nobody thought to ask her how she felt about it all, until she met Mrs. Ada. Mrs. Ada, the temporary stand-in for Mr. Jacobs, the English teacher, was petite, brunette-haired lady who was said to be too nice for her own good. After class one day, Mrs. Ada called her back. “Avery?” Mrs. Ada called. “Could I see you for a moment?” Avery took a seat, wondering what this was about. Sure, she wasn't a star student. But she definitely wasn't failing. And even if she was, Avery didn't think Mrs. Ada had it in her to chew her out. Mrs. Ada pushed her glasses up her nose, a comforting smile on her face. “I've noticed you've got a lot on your mind lately, and I was wondering if you wanted to talk about it.” She paused, scanning Avery's face. “I know being a new student and all that can be a little too much –“ She continued, “ – but I just wanted to say that I'm here if you ever got anything troubling you, okay?” Avery muttered something along the lines of a thanks and began to stand up. “Hold on.” Mrs. Ada interrupted. She bent to bring out something from her bag. It was a black notebook with some words on the front. “I heard about your dad.” She placed the black book in her hands. The front cover read: 'There's no greater agony than keeping an untold story inside of you' – Maya Angelou. Mrs. Ada winked at her, “It's my favorite quote. For times you don't feel like talking, it might surprise you how well writing helps.” Avery rushed out of the classroom, a stuffy feeling in her chest. When she got home, she brought out the book and stared. After a minute of silence, she opened to the first page and began to write. About her dad, the mom she never met, how she felt, her new school. About everything. And for the first time, Avery let the tears fall.
Once upon a time, in a world similar to ours, a pandemic called Covid-19 spread across nations, causing economic decline, socio-political issues, and unexpected successes. In the small town of Willowbrook, nestled amidst green hills and a peaceful river, life came to a sudden stop as news of the virus reached the tightly-knit community. The lively marketplace, once filled with children's laughter and friends' conversations, now stood empty and deserted. Shop owners who once thrived now faced the harsh reality of economic decline. Some had to shut down their businesses indefinitely, unsure if they would ever reopen. As time passed, tensions rose in Willowbrook, and the town's socio-political issues became more prominent. Lines formed outside the food bank as families struggled to feed themselves. Unemployment rates skyrocketed, leaving many desperate and uncertain. The town's leaders faced the challenging task of balancing public health measures with addressing the socio-economic inequalities exposed by the pandemic. However, amidst the darkness, Willowbrook found glimpses of hope and achievements that would shape its future. Local businesses adapted and survived through innovative thinking. They embraced e-commerce platforms, offering their products and services online, providing a lifeline for the community. Neighbors came together to form support groups and community initiatives to help those in need. The town's leaders implemented financial relief programs and collaborated with neighboring towns to share resources and knowledge. Education also underwent a transformation. With schools closed, teachers and parents quickly adapted to online learning. Students explored virtual classrooms and discovered a world of knowledge at their fingertips. Although challenges arose, this new mode of education bridged gaps and ensured all students continued their studies. Willowbrook's triumph over the virus came through sacrifices and determined efforts. Healthcare workers emerged as unsung heroes, tirelessly protecting the town's residents. They faced the pandemic head-on, demonstrating compassion and resilience on the frontlines. The community rallied behind these dedicated professionals, offering words of encouragement, symbols of appreciation, and donations to support their endeavors. As the pandemic gradually diminished, leaving its lasting impact on the town's history, Willowbrook emerged even stronger and more united than before. The economic decline began to reverse as businesses reopened and new ones emerged from the ashes. The town also addressed the socio-political issues it faced, sparking conversations about fair access to healthcare, income equality, and social safety nets. Willowbrook became a shining example of resilience and camaraderie. The story of Willowbrook and its people is just one chapter in the global narrative of the Covid-19 pandemic. It serves as a reminder that even in the most challenging of times, hope can thrive, and achievements can be attained. By coming together, adapting to new circumstances, and addressing the socio-political problems highlighted by the pandemic, communities worldwide can reconstruct stronger and more inclusive societies.
The Brief Story of Eternity Arthur Stace was not a man that you would have spent your hard-earned money betting on to become a celebrity. Born to alcoholic parents in Sydney in 1885, he lived in grinding poverty. That led to stealing bread and milk and searching for scraps of food in bins. As a teenager, he became an alcoholic, was sent to jail at 15 and, in his twenties, he was a scout for his sisters' brothels. Arthur was 45 when he entered a church one day, probably to get out of the rain and hoping for a handout. The sermon concerned eternity. And, for reasons he could never explain, he immediately gave up alcohol and became obsessed with that word - eternity. Despite the fact that he was illiterate and could hardly write his own name legibly, for the next 35 years he inscribed the word ‘Eternity' on footpaths and doorsteps in and around Sydney. He always wrote in immaculate copperplate and used yellow chalk and it's estimated he did this half a million times. Along the way, he achieved world-wide fame as ‘Mr. Eternity', before his death in 1967 at the age of 83. Only one original still exists, inside the bell of the Sydney General Post Office clock tower, which was brought out of storage in the 1960's. It had been sealed up for 20 years and no-one knows how Arthur had been able to get to it. He inspired many artists (including Banksy) and writers, spawned an opera and even a film by Julien Temple, the video chronicler of the Sex Pistols and The Kinks. In 2000, the Sydney Harbour Bridge was lit up with the word "Eternity" as part of the celebrations for the beginning of the year 2000, as well as being part of the Sydney 2000 Olympic Games Opening Ceremony, in celebration of a man who became eternal though the use of one word.