erstellt am 23.12.2016
Five Christmas stories for you –
- Dark brown eyes
A deep winter morning. For the first time the snowflakes were smoothly falling on my cheek until I started shaking and putting my hand in front of my mouth to get some warm breath. Back home in Pakistan it never snowed so this moment seemed somehow surreal to me. Passing by some coffee shops I smelled the aromatic heat. I couldn’t wait to reach my classroom today, after the first period had been cancelled because of the snow.
I passed the centre place with joyful music, people in fancy clothes and funky decorations in the street. A man completely dressed in golden clothes suddenly held a fancy chocolate box in front of my face without saying anything. I looked up surprised and saw his iceblue eyes. As soon as he saw my face his facial expression completely changed and looked puzzled at me. Immediately he took his hand back and scrutinized me and his gaze said more than words even could. Looking into my dark brown eyes he changed his behaviour. Suddenly holding back his box as I moved my hand into his direction he turned back without even uttering a single word. Against his expectations, I noticed his his puzzled gaze not daring to look me back into my eyes, I said: “Merry Christmas!” with a big smile. This incident must have shaken something inside him because he stood there as if nailed to the ground.
For me it was self-evident to react respectfully and to wish him all the best for his festivity as I had been raised to honour things that are important to my friends and fellow men. I didn’t mind his attitude not giving me the box because of my outward appearance. He couldn’t know that. Although I don’t celebrate Christmas properly, it was still a special day for me and I loved the atmosphere all in the air. – Only by interacting and with an open-minded attitude we can learn from and with each other. Especially in these occasions of love and humanity we should break the boundaries of origin and personal belief. – The next day when I crossed the same place, I was handed the same chocolate box with a “Merry Christmas to you, too lady!” and a sincere smile.
by Zuha S.
- A good deed every day
It´s the 24th of December and I am on my way to work. I give some money to a homeless man. “One good deed every day.” my mom always used to tell me when I was younger.
I try to hold on to that as much as I possibly can. Especially around Christmas people tend not to give any money due to all the presents they have to buy. There aren´t a lot of homeless people here but enough to notice. Mike was one of them. I see him every day in front of the dollar store when I get out of work. Since I started working I haven´t been to my mom´s place for quite a while. It´s far away and I don´t have a lot of time on my hand so I mostly spend Christmas with either my friends or myself.
At work we talked about the dinner me, Maya and Faith wanted to have that day. A big turkey, potatoes, drinks, fondue and desert. “Sounds amazing!” I said. So I rushed a little bit after work to buy all I need since the dinner was going to be at my place. I passed Mike, he had less change in hist little cup that the day before. Looking at my shopping list while scanning the aisles to find what I needed I saw Mike out of the corner of my eye approaching me. He greeted me, I greeted him and asked him how I could help. We started talking about Christmas, the meals, gifts and family gathering. He helped me find all the items on my list while talking about our favorite Christmas food.
Later as we wanted to pay, he handed me all the items out of the shopping cart, still talking about food. I told him about my dinner plans as he helped me put my groceries in a large paper bag. I took out my credit card out of the upper pocket of my dark green backpack where my wallet was in because I wanted to pay. After I handed the money to the cashier I watched her count the money, print and hand me the bill. As I turned around to Mike my phone rang so I picked it up.
It was Maya. “I know but I´m so sorry. We´ll all do it next year I swear.” I hung up and looked at Mike, he saw the pain in my face. We decided to sit on a bench in front of the store. We kept talking for a little while more with the bag sadly sitting beside me. Later I stood up to shake Mike’s hand and thank him for the lovely conversation. As I wanted to walk away I looked at him a while and I had an beautiful Idea. I smiled brightly.
I take Mike home with me. We cook, eat and sit together talking for hours. I pack him the leftovers in a plastic reusable container. “This is the biggest gift I´ve gotten in years.” he says.
by Selin Y.
- Christimas story
When it comes to Christmas I would describe myself as a ‘‘Gringe‘‘. Not because of my ugliness but rather because of my attitude towards Christmas.
Well, don’t you think an old man breaking into your house at night, leaving a package in your living room and also stealing your cookies isn’t creepy?!
And the time around the 24 th of December is super stressful as well! When I was younger I could draw a Mandala and my family was enthusiastic (or they pretended to be) and now they have high expectations.
But anyways, today ist the day-of-feeling-bad because you haven’t managed to buy presents. It’s not my fault, though. It just feels like Halloween was yesterday and it isn’t even snowing. That’s why I didn’t remember to drive into the overcrowded city.
Last year my family sat around the fully-decorated table to eat some food my Grandma cooked. It was actually pretty tasty, maybe a bit spicy, though. But I rather eat chips than fancy food. Usually, when my whole family comes together they discuss politics and it gets pretty loud when they start.
But that day was different. Everyone was relaxed and I felt something warm in my chest. Maybe it was a Christmas miracle but then I realized that the curtain was catching fire.
Long story short, I made a new friend. His name was Travos and he was a firefighter. I guess it was the most ‘‘interesting‘‘ Christmas I’ve ever had and one good thing was that no one noticed that I hadn’t brought presents.
by Christina A.
- My own Christmas story
Once upon a time there was a little girl, Mina. She used to go to school by bike every morning with her best friend, Daria.
This morning when the two girls were on their way to school the first snow has fallen and the roads were slippery. Daria was already waiting for Mina at their meeting point at the bus stop like every morning. When Mina finally arrived they talked about Christmas and what they have planned to present their parents. Daria wanted to give a self-made present to her parents, which she had made in class a couple of days ago and Mina planned to draw a picture of her parents.
In school they asked all the other students to collect some other ideas for other family members. But everyone was excited, because of the coming exam in German class. It wasn`t a normal exam, but an exam they were allowed to write in pairs for six hours. Of course Daria and Mina decided to take this exam together. They have known each other since first grade and ten years later they were still friends. They have never had a
fight or a time when they did not talk to each other. They have always held
together, no matter what came towards them.
But when they had P.E. they were playing handball. When Mina wanted to catch a pass from Jake she failed it and her skin between the ring and little finger ripped. Mina decided to go to hospital and Daria came with her to support her. That is what friends are for.
In the hospital Mina and Daria had to wait for a very long time, so they talked about many different things and so they started to amuse the whole waiting room without even knowing that. After a while they got invoiced so the wound could be sewed. In the surgery the doctor told the two girls that the anesthesia was the worst, because the finger would feel like it is going to burst. But actually with Darias help and support it was not as bad as expected.
The next day was the German exam and Mina was a little bit nervous, because she was afraid that she would have to write it at another day, because she couldn`t write with her injured hand. But when the teacher arrived Daria talked to her and convinced her that she could write for both of them! And finally when Daria and Mina had finished the exam after six hours she smiled and just said to Mina: „I think this is my personal Christmas gift for you.“ and gave Mina the notebook with all the 2400 words in it.
by Melina B.
I have always hated Christmas. Well, for the most part of my life, after all every child loves getting presents. Ever since I moved out of my parents house and across the country, I only get to see my family two or three times a year, one of those being Christmas. Now don’t get me wrong, I love visiting my family, it’s just that, especially on Christmas I am just rushing from one place to the other, trying to spend a little time with everyone, catching up on stuff without really being together or conversing.
This year was like every other. Saturday, the 24th I would get up early, grab all the bags I packed the weekend before, throw them into my old, shabby car and drive off into the sunrise. It was fairly cold outside, the coldest it had been for ages. Snow hid the fields around my village in a thick cloak and an ice coated every branch. How I would have loved to take my horse for a ride today. I sighted and turned the radio on, my only company for at least the next ten hours.
Even though the roads were wet, I advanced at a quick pace. However, that changed during midday. I had covered almost half of the distance when like-minded people joined me on my journey north. Soon after that, we crossed paths with a flock of snowflakes, trickling down upon the front windows, forming a light veil around our precession of travellers. Now there was me, a big number of people stressed and anxious to reach their families in time for the contemplative Christmas time and an even greater number snowflakes keeping them. The line froze in place, crawled forward a little, just to freeze again, so when I saw an opportunity, I took it and left the highway as quickly as possible and continued my way along the countryside.
Soon after, the early arriving night swallowed up the frigid landscape surrounding me, leaving only patches of snow on the farthest borders of my headlights. Before me there lay a winding road, slithering up and down hills. It felt quite nostalgic. Now it really was just me in my car, encased by a thousand dancing snowflakes and Benjamin Kowalewicz screaming at me from the speakers.
Thousands turned into what felt like a million. It became really hard to see especially since the crooked, little country road slipped under a white blanket not too long after. I passed through village after village, light in the warm windows, peaceful and inviting from outside. I sighted. What I would have given in order to be at home right now, muffled in a blanket watching some nice non-christmas-related movie while inhaling a bag of crisps.
I drove on and on and on, getting slower and slower as the snow piled up. At some point even Benny began to go on my nerves, so I halted in an indent, unplugged my phone and switched on the radio to check if any measures would be taken against the weather, or rather, when. I had to listen to “Last Christmas” first though, which only darkened my mood. However, it turned black when the moderator told me that there was chaos on the motorway; miles of traffic jam. I swore like a sailor as I angrily switched the radio off, that was now howling “Oh Holy Night.”
Christmas Eve, what a mess. Now what? I thought as I leaned back in my seat with a sigh. I decided that I didn’t want to hospitalize myself on this day by slipping against a tree and came to the conclusion that it would be best to find a place to stay for the night and continue on the next day. But it was Christmas, no shops were open, especially not here in the middle of nowhere. I could sleep in the car, but it couldn’t afford to catch a cold. So I drove on, not sure what I expected to find or accomplish.
I found a barn. Outside of a little village there it lay, alone in the desolation of the snow hailing from above and crawling at it from below. Trespassing someone’s property is something I would have never done under other circumstances, but I was tired and worn out and stiff and my social awkwardness kept me from asking someone on little Jesus‘ birthday to let me stay over the night. It would have been too cliché as well.
So after a while of thinking I parked my car about half a mile from the barn, so no one would get suspicious, grabbed a couple of things from the trunk and set out into the storm. The moment I opened the door, the wind began whipping my face with its cold, wet hands, driving tears into my eyes. Hurriedly I began marching towards my destination, leaning into the wind and trying my best in shielding my skin from the chilling cold. The moment I got away from the road and onto the path that lead up to the hill, my legs sunk knee-deep into the soft ground. I soon began to sweat in my warm clothes and the snowflakes stuck in my scarf melted at a much quicker pace under my hot breath. I was eager to reach the building and get out of the howling night, but at the same time I could feel the serenity crawling over me getting stronger.
I watched my feet drag me along since raising my head meant having all sorts of unpleasant stuff lashing into my face, but when I reached the building my curiosity took over and I looked back. There was an ocean of white, faintly glittering in the dim light the moon emitted through the clouds. I could see it moving like little waves as the wind picked up a few fragments and blew them up and across the plains.
The child in me had been wakened and I wanted to stay outside, roll in the snow and explore everything around me. But the cold scared me and my clothes were soaked enough already. So with one cold hand I gripped the rusty handle and pulled open the gate.
It was pitch black inside, but I could hear movement. Carefully I stepped in and switched on the flash light on my phone. Two dozen cattle turned their black and white faces towards me and looked at me with curious eyes. I could see that there was no straw in their enclose, but I hoped that I might at least find some hay. Carefully I walked down the hallway along the crib. When I reached the end I noticed some hey bales neatly placed next to each other. Lucky me, I thought. I would have had to look for another place to sleep if there hadn’t been any. I tried to find the one that was already open, which was luckily placed on a wooden plate. It took all my might, but eventually it would topple over. I tore the nice smelling dry grass out and placed it thickly on top of the plate and immediately let myself fall into it. Not soft, but warm. Thanks to the animals the hutch wasn’t as bitterly cold as the storm outside and there was also no wind and no dampness, but sleeping on the stone ground wouldn’t have been a good idea.
I breathed a couple of times deeply while nuzzling my face into the sweet smelling hay, smelling like home, until I decided it was time to confess to my family that I wouldn’t be able to make it there in time. With a sigh I got out my phone again and dialled my grandmother. I knew she would be worried sick by now since I was hours late. “Hey Granny, yeah, sorry for not calling. Listen, I got stuck in the snow, but I managed to find a nice place to stay. Yeah, there’s a kind family here that took me in, it’s nice and warm and I got a spot to sleep in. Don’t worry, I’ll be with you guys tomorrow. Mhh… Alright, wish everyone a Merry Christmas for me will you? So sorry I couldn’t make it in time. Alright… bye.”
I wasn’t sorry. A little maybe, yes, but not too much. What better way was there to flee from your obligations for a little while than to hide in a shed with a bunch of cattle? I surely would regret not asking someone for a real bed tomorrow, but for now I was perfectly fine and at peace with myself.
With a sigh of relief I turned on my music quietly so it would play along with the wind hammering against the walls. I also got out the walnut booze I had bought for my grandmother. It was her favourite, so I brought it to her every year. She wouldn’t mind me taking a sip would she?
I raised the golden liquid towards the cows which were still staring at me and spoke solemnly: “Thank you so much for your hospitality, this great act of kindness on this special day. I wish you a Merry Christmas, my friends, cheers to you!”
By Mara G.
erstellt am 23.12.2016
Impressionen von der Weihnachtsfeier
Alle Jahre wieder …. hat die Holstenschule so auch in diesem Jahr am 15.12.2016 ab 19.00 Uhr ihre Türen zur diesjährigen Weihnachtsfeier geöffnet. So wurden die zahlreichen Besucher in einer weihnachtlich geschmückten und stimmungsvoll beleuchteten Mensa von den Moderatorinnen Julia K. und Ina A. aus der Q2 fröhlich begrüßt. Unter der Leitung von den Musiklehrern, Herrn Aderhold, Herrn Flintermann sowie Herrn Riefle, wurde ein buntes, fröhliches und besinnliches Programm auf der Schulbühne gezeigt, das sich durch eine besondere Vielfalt aus instrumentalen, gesungenen und gesprochenen Beiträgen auszeichnete. Es folgen ein paar eingefangene Impressionen dieses Abends.
(Text und Fotos: Sara-Lena Garken)
erstellt am 18.12.2016
Der Vorlesewettbewerb 2016 der 6. Klassen
Wie in jedem Jahr fand auch dieses Jahr der Vorlesewettbewerb in den sechsten Klassen statt. Nach den klasseninternen Vorrunden traten nun am 02.12.2016 in der 02./03. Stunde die KlassensiegerInnen in der Aula gegeneinander an, um den Schulsieger zu ermitteln. Die vier Klassensieger- Madeleine E. aus der 6a, Olivia W. aus der 6b, Tobias W. aus der 6c und Rosa M. aus der 6d- lasen in der ersten Runde ihre vorbereiteten Textstellen ihren knapp 120 MitschülerInnen, Lehrkräften und der Jury vor. In der zweiten Runde erhielt jeder Schüler nun einen unbekannten Abschnitt aus Henning Mankells „Der Hund, der unterwegs zu einem Stern war“. Nach kurzer Beratung der Jury unter Vorsitz des Schulleiters Arno Engelmann stand die Schulsiegerin fest: Olivia W. (6b) konnte mit ihrer Vorlesetechnik und ihrem selbstgewählten Werk „Sophie auf den Dächern“ von Katherine Rundell am meisten überzeugen. Allen vier Klasensiegern gratuliert die Holstenschule herzlich zu ihrem Sieg und ihrem Mut, vor so vielen Menschen zu lesen, und wünscht euch allen weiterhin viel Freude an Büchern. Olivia drücken wir ganz fest die Daumen, denn sie wird im Stadtentscheid zu Beginn des nächsten Jahres die Holstenschule vertreten. Außerdem ein riesiges Dankeschön an alle, die zu einer gelungenen Durchführung beigetragen haben, ob es nun Moderation (Herr Blenn), Aufbau ( Hausmeisterteam) und Dekoration (Frau Hell und Frau Holdt), Organisation (Frau Sass), Aufsicht, Jury oder Aufsicht waren.
(Text: Mirjam Hünninghaus; Fotos: Sara-Lena Garken)