Hidden Treasures / 8
Local students show off their literary stuff in the 2017 McEntyre Writing Competition
Introduction by Wayne Larsen
In what has become an annual tradition in Westmount schools, the McEntyre Writing Competition always attracts a wide variety of thoughtful and creative entries, and the 2017 edition was no exception.
Endowed by the late Peter McEntyre, mayor of Westmount from 1969 to 1971, the competition encourages young writers to express themselves on a designated topic, each designed to get the creative juices flowing. It is coordinated each year by the Westmount Public Library.
In 2017, “Secret Places, Hidden Treasures” was the topic assigned to students in grades 1 through 11.
Westmount Magazine presents the full texts of the first-place entries in each grade category, as supplied by the Westmount Public Library.
Here we present Grade 9.
NINTH GRADE | FIRST PRIZE | WESTMOUNT HIGH SCHOOL
The Story of Moth
In the beginning there was only absence, void, emptiness and then in a single blinding moment, there is life. Planets are formed and millions of creatures are formed around these planets. These animals are of all shapes and sizes they marveled at their own beauty: the colossal size of Elephant, the savage grace of Tiger, and then there was Moth.
Moth was a massive flying creature whose form held all the colours of creation and whose wings held swirling patterns that mesmerized anything that lays it’s eyes on it. Seconds after the Creation, the animals heard the voice of the Maker, it spoke knowledge into their essence and explained the roles that they would play out for the rest of eternity. However, Moth had noticed its reflexion in a stream and was too entranced by its own beauty to listen to The Maker’s instructions. When the Maker disappeared in a flash of light, Moth was left confused. I must know, thought Moth, I must find him. Moth then looked up and saw the sun, The Maker had disappeared in a flash of light, he must therefore still reside in the light.
It flapped its wings and flew towards the sun, soaring effortlessly through the air, for it truly was exceedingly graceful. However, when it drew close to the sun, it felt a heat so extreme that it could do nothing but back away. Again it flew towards the light, and again it was repulsed. Finally, Moth readied itself and hurled itself into the sun. When it felt the heat, instead of shirking away, it pushed harder. Moth could feel the flame burning its form, at its beauty. Just when Moth felt its last vestige of strength leave its body, Moth felt it. Moth felt the Maker. The Maker spoke.
“Moth, your Role was to the embodiment of beauty and example of true grace, but you were too selfish to listen to my orders, you relinquished a chance to become something great. You are no longer worthy. I will take your beauty, I will take your treasure and secret it away behind the light.”
As The Maker spoke, Moth felt the sun’s malicious heat eating away at its colour and beauty. Moth had entered the sun as an indescribable animal of picturesque perfection. It left as a tiny speck of a creature devoid of colour.
Ever since that moment, hours after the world’s birth the moth has been considered the blandest animal on the face of the Earth. It has been searching for the beauty beyond the light ever since.
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