text: [Themes: family friendly, animal perspective, family friendly]
  
  Madame Racoon sighs in her rocking chair, tired of knitting wool mittens and scarves. At the same time, she drinks the last sips of her now cold and lonely winter tea.
  
  It is too cold this winter, with these the animals of the orphanage and the kittens of Mrs Baker will be able to spend winter as warm as the chicks of the eagles, or the puppies in their neighbourhoods high above the valley, with their huge chimneys and electric lights.
  
  "Coon? Are you there?" a sweet voice comes from outside of the hall door. It is Mama Cat.
  
  "Mama Cat, how long since we have last seen each other?"
  
  The old retired detective puts down her stocking needles and lifts herself as fast as her aching bones allow. She smiles, grooming her long grey beams.
  
  "Too many travels, comrade too many. Everything remains the same. Maybe that gives us hope that nothing will get worse." The cat nervously puts on her wool scarf, almost as if she were a puppy chasing a ball of wool.
  
  "Come, sit in this chair by the fireplace. I am sure that you're dead cold," Raccoon adds as she, with her plump arms, blows the chimney flames. The entire room glows with a welcoming light as the wind and snow roar threateningly outside.
  
  > say "Here, have a spicy vegetable soup it will warm you up!"
  "It smells good!" Mother Cat's funny pink muzzle opens and repeatedly closes as if she is trying to catch and devour the rich scent that comes out of the bubbling copper liquid.
  
  "My grandmother's special recipe; wild mushrooms, ginger, tomato, carrot, garlic and cayenne, and pieces of garlic bread."
  
  A pleasant silence extends through the clean and cosy kitchen of the farmhouse. Madame Coon stirs the soup with a large wooden spoon. After whispering a cheery tune, she finally replies to her friend, "My mother always said that a kitchen full of brightly coloured dishes and herbs is a happy home."
  
  > say "I have to tell you something, Madame Raccoon. I need you to take care of my children, at least for tonight."
  "You don't have to ask." Raccoon's big eyes take in her friend's face, and a fang-to-fang smile fills her face. "I like nothing more than taking care of your three kids."
  
  The cat rocks weakly in the rocking chair, still holding the hot cup on her lap. She, for a moment, remains silent, looking at the flames crackle as if they danced in the fireplace- "You think that one day everything will be different. And that the valley will be..."
  
  A silence as cold as a blizzard filled the cosy room. Not even the chimney fire could warm up.[Themes: historical, drama, historical]
  
  Your very first memory is of a figure sitting at a piano, slowly making their way through a song, giving you your first taste of music. You do not remember who they were, nor what they looked like. You can't even remember if it was a male or female. The only thing you remember is the music, and it was not good. You haven't heard better music, but something inside you tells you this is not what music is supposed to be. Right now you don't have the words to describe your distaste so you start crying.
  
  "Shhh Dmitri, your mother is teaching. Are you hungry? We will feed you soon my boy."
  
  Your father picks you up and takes you to your room. For the next few years you are not allowed to be in the room when your mother is giving lessons. Every time a student comes to your house you are forced to your room. When you are old enough you begin to play outside with other children in the neighborhood during the times you are not allowed in the piano room. Many of your friends take lessons from your mother. On one such occasion you are playing football in the streets of St. Petersburg.
  
  "Yuri you are as bad at goalie as you are at piano." you joke to your friend after he lets in another goal through the shoes you have used to mark the goalposts.
  
  "Shut up bro, I'd like to see you do better." He responds. You let in more goals than he did and stay quiet for the rest of the day. WIth your pride bruised that night you ask your mom to teach you to play piano.
  
  [Author's Note: A dramatized story about soviet composer Dmitri Shostakovich for the Manifest Destiny Contest..]
  
  > Your First Lessons
  Despite your parents worrying that you were starting your musical studies too late to have any sort of talent, you find yourself drawn to the piano and practice every day. At first your small hands can only play lullabies and simple tunes meant for teaching children, but you quickly move on to what your mother calls "real music". You take about a week to master each piece, to the point where you could play each of them with your eyes closed. Your father often praises you for your progress and hard work but your mother constantly tells you you could do better.
  
  One day your mother sits you down and gives you a new piece to play. This one was composed by J. S. Bach, a composer whose songs you have been learning for almost a year now. You are handed the sheet music and told to listen to your mother play. Looking at the sheet music you realize that this piece is quite simple, you should be able to it fairly easily and you find yourself focusing more on your mother's playing than on the sheet music in front of you. The song quickly finishes.
  
  "Now play, and be careful not to rush."
  
  You nod and begin to play. When you play piano you are able to focus, it is unlike anything else in your life. Even when you are at school or reading you constantly find your mind wandering off, thinking about pretty girls in your class or staring into space. When you play piano the only thing on your mind are the eighty eight keys and three pedals. You look down at your hands and begin to play, note by note, measure by measure.
  
  After you finish you look to your mom for criticism.
  
  "Play it again, but this time read the music."
  
  Confused, you start over, this time with your eyes on the sheet music. While the song is similar to what you played before, a few notes are different.
  
  "You have to play what's on the sheet, don't just play what I play." your mom instructs you.
  
  You try again, this time eyes on the sheet music. You play slower this time, being careful to play the notes as written. You realize that your mother played parts of the song wrong. You finish, this time taking significantly longer to get through the piece.
  
  "You need to be more careful, Dmitri. Writing music is hard work, don't disrespect the composer by playing what you think should be there. Play what is written. You have talent Dmitri, don't trust anyone but yourself to play the music for you."
  
  You contemplate what she says. Over the next few months you begin to teach yourself to compose music, at first copying the classical style. While romantic era composers are your favorite, the structured method in which the simpler classical piano pieces are easier to emulate. However each time you finish a song you realize that you could do better. You think of the music you like it all has meaning. Für Elise was written for a girl, Clair de Lune is about walking alone. You decide you need to pick a topic to write about.
  
  You ask your mother what you should write a song about and she tells you to focus on practicing playing and you can start composing once there is nothing else to play. You don't like this answer so you ask your father what you should write a song about. He says every good song is either about a girl or a death. There is an Elizaveta in your class you have always admired from a distance, but you don't know how you would show her the song. You have also heard your father talk with his friends about how some communists murdered a politician in St. Petersburg.
  
  > write a song for Elizaveta
  "Liza, I want to show you a song I wrote."
  
  Elizaveta turns to face you. She is a few inches taller than you so she looks down while talking to you.
  
  "Ok, do you want to sing it for me?"
  
  "Actually no, it's a song on piano. Do you want to come over to my house after school so I can play it for you?". Your heart pounds as you ask her. Yuri says that any girl would be happy to listen to a song written for her, but girls never gave you much attention before.
  
  "Oh I don't have too much time today. There is a piano in the music room, can we meet there after class?" She seems equally nervous which makes you feel a little better.
  
  You can barely focus throughout your class. Your teacher is giving a lecture on how Poland joined the Russian empire but your mind is elsewhere. When the teacher finally lets you go you briskly walk to the music room of your school, hoping that Elizaveta will be there. She is, but she has two friends with her. They are giggling when you arrive.
  
  You say hello to Elizaveta but you don;t know the girls she is with. They all smile at you.
  
  You sit down at the piano and begin to play. You chose F-sharp major because you find it to be the prettiest key signature. You are nervous at first, but once you start playing you start thinking of the music and stop thinking of the girl you wrote it for.
  
  "That's a pretty song, Dmitri but why is it so sad?"
  
  You don't have a good answer for her.
  
  When you get home your mother informs you that you have an audition at the Petrograd Conservatory. You are told to prepare a piece to perform.
  
  > prepare a technically difficult song
  You tell your mom you want to show off for the conservatory. She assigns you a piece by Chopin. You spend every hour you can practicing, making sure there is no possibility that you could miss a note. When the time comes to perform you will be ready.
  
  Your mom takes you shopping the day before you are to audition. She buys you a nice jacket and tells you not to worry.
  
  You are very worried. Music is the only thing you are good at, if you fail this audition you will have been relegated to mediocrity. No one would play the songs you wrote. You might become a piano teacher like your mother,and your only significance in history would be being the early teacher of a promising pupil who was more talented, more successful. You respect what your mother does, but you want more. You want to be remembered.
  
  > The Conservatory
  You are accepted into Petregrad Conservatory, much to your parent's delight. At first it is like a dream, no longer will you have to worry about history, science, or politics. Your entire life becomes music. You are among the best pianists in your class and your teachers take note. While you are instructed in composition, your main goal is to become the best pianist you can be. You master every concerto that Chopin and Liszt had written. Each day you wake up, walk to the conservatory, take your classes, and then practice until your hands hurt. You find this to be a wonderful life.
  
  While you are studying away at the great composers of years past, the world around you quickly changes. The Soviets now control Russia and you live under communism. While this had a great effect on nearly everyone in Russia, your life remains largely unchanged. As far as you are concerned, the music you are playing will outlive any empire and you pay little attention to the new government and the changes that come with it.
  
  As your adolescence is coming to an end, one of your professors takes you aside.
  
  "Dimitri, the world is changing. You are a wonderful pianist but that will only get you so far in this life. You should consider learning how to teach piano if you want a more stable career."
  
  > learn to Teach
  When you are twenty years of age you travel to Poland to compete in the first International Chopin Piano Competition. You have perfected each piece you are due to perform, but you lose to a Jew from the Moscow Conservatory. While you are upset about losing, your main shame comes from the criticism you receive. You are awarded an honorable mention, but it is noted that while technically proficient, the way you play is "soulless".
  
  After finishing studies at the Petregrad Conservatory you immediately apply for a job there. You quickly begin teaching the first year students. It is hard work, but you will take what you can get.
  
  For the next nine years nothing of note happens, until one day a woman walks into your office. She introduces herself as an old classmate of yours. You already knew this as you immediately recognize her.
  
  "Elizaveta, what a surprise." You notice a ring on her finger, "Congratulations on the marriage."
  
  "Hello Dmitri," she says, "I heard you have become quite the teacher. I am looking for a tutor for my daughter, she is still quite young but she has been begging me to let her play piano. I always remembered the song you wrote me, and I figured I would ask you first."
  
  You accept her job offer. It pays quite well, Elizaveta had married someone quite important apparently. After word gets around that you are accepting young pupils you find yourself quite busy teaching the children of St. Petersburg's important party members. Perhaps one of them will become a great musician, perhaps not.