Written by Iris Zhu from California, USA Beyond the elderberry bushes, across from the old gymnasium at the elementary school, lies a small creek that runs beneath bowed willows and moss-covered boulders. We didn’t know where it flowed from nor where it led to, but the little stream became a gathering place for the second graders every recess. We would abandon our sock-stuffed shoes at the shore, splashing ankle deep until soft pebbles pillowed our feet, to wonder at the flee
