Shoelaces (created in 6th grade)

Chapter 1
I helped Miss. Gibson unpack all of her markers yesterday. There were over 20 boxes full of them. 40 packs in each box. Some of the boxes had rainbow markers, some had bright ones, some had striped, and even some had erasable ones. It took me about 20 minutes to unpack all of them. But I used up another 10 talking to Miss. Gibson.

“What are we doing with all of these markers?” I asked “Usually, when we draw something, we only need about 10 packs of markers to share with the rest of the school. Why do we need so many?”

“Everyone will get there own pack of markers and bring them home. Were learning about the differences between all of us. Everyone of us will buy a pillowcase and draw some stuff about themselves on it. Then, after the project is complete, we will exchange pillowcases for a day. Someone will learn about someone else and so on.” Miss. Gibson said. I never really thought of doing anything like this. It sounded weird but when you think about it, its really not.

“That’s cool. Where did you get this idea from?” I asked

“My father used to be an art teacher. He would make up all sorts of cool ideas. Like making a collage of paper cups or making pictures out of paperclips. He was one of a kind. But the one project that inspired me the most was the Shoelace Collage. Every person gets a white shoe and colors it. They put all sorts of words and pictures on it to describe themselves. And after the project was complete, my dad would of put it up on a wall, so everyone could see it. But that unfortunately never happened. My dad – Never mind you wouldn’t want to know.” Miss. Gibson said while washing the art tables with Windex. I could see her eyes filling up.

“No. Its all right. You can tell me.” I said. Miss. Gibson put down the bottle of Windex.
“My dad left my house the night before the project was due. He got into a fight with my mother and he left. He never said goodbye. I still feel that empty hole inside of my heart. Anyways, it doesn’t matter now. What matters now is that we get to cleaning up the boxes and throwing the rest if the trash away.” Miss. Gibson said. She turned around, picked up an empty box, and left without saying anything.

I felt really bad. But I was determined more the ever to clean the room up as fast as I could. I took all of the boxes and piled them neatly out side of the room. I used the Windex and wiped all the tables clean. I swept up all the dirt and dust from the floor and I scrubbed the chalkboard. When miss. Gibson walked back
into the room, a smile reaching from ear to ear lit up her face.


“Thank you Tamie.” She said.

I wanted to stay after school that day because I like miss. Gibson. She has been my favorite art teacher for 2 years. I could tell her everything . I told her about the time I tripped down the stairs last year, and I told her all the guys that I have liked. I told her the things I wouldn’t tell my parents. She has been there every step of the way for me since sixth to eighth grade. She helped me get over the fear of rope climbing and helped me prepare for an art contest last year. I love
her like a sister. Or even an other mother. She has been there for me more then anyone else has.

So sadly…. That was yesterday. And today, things have changed.



Early this morning I got a phone call from school. A phone call that changed my life forever.

“Hello?” I asked

“Hi. This is Mrs. Rose your team leader. Miss. Gibson cant do the mural after school today. ” She sounded kind of sad to me. It sounded like she wanted to say more, but couldn’t.

“Oh. That’s all right. Is she sick? I can just go by her house and pick up the directions there”

“Um… No Tamie that’s not a good idea” Mrs. Rose said.

“Oh. Well whatever the case, Ill just do it some other time after school” I said. Something was wrong.

“Um. Miss. Gibson isn’t doing the mural anymore. Um… she – she” Mrs. Rose was about ready to cry. I was about to my self. This didn’t sound good

“WHAT DID SHE DO! WHAT HAPPENED!” I blurted out

“ She- She- she’s dead!”
After that, all the other words Miss. Rose faded in my mind. Except two. She’s dead. She’s dead. She’s dead.

How could someone I just talked to only 14 hours ago be dead?
Tonight I cried. I cried until my eyes could not produce any more tears. How was I going to feel better? How was I going to deal with it all?












Chapter 2
My mom made me go to school earlier this morning to collect all of my work from Miss. Gibson’s room. I hated going in there. It made me cry so much. Just thinking of all the good times we spent together filled up my mind with thoughts and filled my eyes with tears. I was absolutely upset.

As I was gathering the rest off my artwork, I tripped over something. It was a box of markers. A plain old regular box of markers. It must have fallen out of one of the boxes that I was unpacking. I picked it up and laid it on top of Miss. Gibson’s desk. As I stared at it I was thinking back on what she said yesterday.


The one project that inspired me the most was the Shoe Collage. Every person gets a white shoe and colors it. They put all sorts of words and pictures on it to describe themselves. And after the project was complete, my dad…

That’s it!

After school I gathered up all of my friends at the basketball court. Once everyone met there I explained what I was going to do.

“Miss. Gibson, yesterday, was talking about how the project she was going to do was inspired by the project her dad did before he left the family and ran away. The project her dad was talking about was making everyone write on white shoes. They could draw stuff about them and write words to describe themselves” I said

“So? We cant buy shoes for everyone to write on! Are you nuts! That costs money. Something we don’t have. And even if people had to get there own shoes, they wouldn’t!” Beth said

“No! Not that! What I mean is, we’ll collect shoelaces! For Miss. Gibson. Since she never got to finish the shoe project, we will for her. It will be called the Shoelaces!”

“Tamie. Wow. Great idea. I mean…. Even thought Miss. Gibson is gone, that doesn’t mean we still cant do something nice for her!” Hannah said. (Hannah is such a follower… I don’t mean to be mean or anything but she is.) shes been my best friend since 4th grade.

“Well if we are going to do this, we need a goal. Like 50 shoelaces. We’ll collect 50 shoelaces from other people.” Jack said

“Good idea Jack!” I said “But we need a goal more like…. 800?”

“WHAT? 800! HOW DID YOU COME UP WITH THAT HUGE NUMBER! WE CANT GET 800 SHOELACES! Listen…!” Beth said

“Ya Tamie…. 800 is a lot”

“Miss. Gibson bought 20 boxes of markers. 40 packs in each box. That’s 800 packs of markers. And 800 reasons why we should do this. Please! You know how much I liked miss. Gibson!” I said.

“Well I’m in.” Hannah said
“I guess me too” Jack said. He put his hand out. Hannah put her hand on top of his

“Well I know I’m in” I said. I put my hand on top of Hannah’s. We all looked at Beth.

“Come on Beth! For us! Please?” I asked

“Fine” Beth said. She put her hand on top of mine. After a moment of silence we all laughed and let go.

“How did miss. Gibson die anyways?” Jack asked

“Oh… My mom said she died of heart disease in her car. She probably had an attack and that’s why she lost control of her car.”

“Oh”, I said very sadly. “ lets not talk about this now. Lets talk about the flyers and how many of them we will make. Jack, your in charge of making the flyers. Hannah, your in charge of advertising it in the school. You know, like go on the news and talk about it. Beth, since your good at organizing, once we start getting the shoelaces in, you can organize them by county, or however you want. And me? Well, Ill count all off them up. All 800 of them.


So a couple of months went by. We started getting about 20 shoelaces a week and maybe thirty if we were lucky. We only had about 120 shoelaces. One day, a news reported knocked on my door. We had this whole conversation about the project. My friends and I (a couple of weeks later) got interviewed on live T.V! A couple of days after that, we started getting twenty, thirty even FORTY shoelaces a day! After only two months, we had over one thousand shoelaces.

But guess what’s cooler? After the news interview, we started getting shoelaces with notes on them. Some had pretty designs and some said things like “Good Luck!” or “I hope this thing goes well!” We put all the 1000 shoelaces in 20 boxes. And there were 40 packages in each box

So… Once everyone stopped sending shoelaces in, all of my friends asked the school to have a place where we could put all the shoelaces in. They found the perfect spot. Miss. Gibson’s old classroom.


















Chapter 3
So everything is done. The school redid Miss. Gibson’s old room and turned it into the Shoelace room. The school used an old math room as the new art room. The Shoelace room is beautiful. Colors are everywhere. On the walls, and ceilings. Everyone’s feeling are on each of the shoelaces. There were 20 boxes. 40 packages in each box. And it took me no time at all to savor each and every one of them.