2024 NATIONAL MEDAL
for Museum and Library Service Finalist

Adults

Cowbirds

Cowbirds by Tessa James (a short story contest entry) 

Maeve thought about cowbirds as her eyes traced the clear tubing leading from her teenage daughter’s arm to the IV bag, plump with fluids meant to quell the storm created when a virus collides with starvation. How did she miss the “die” in diet? What Maeve once considered audacity on the cowbird’s part—laying her speckled eggs in others’ nests—she now conceded might be wisdom. Letting a better bird raise your baby.

The Sandy Shore

The Sandy Shore by Komal Mehra (a Short Story Contest entry)

 

She sat down with a canvas and her palette. Dipping her paintbrush in the blue hue, she created the majestic sky! Blending some white shade in blue, she painted some gleaming strokes of water. Immersed in her creative zeal, she dipped her brush in earthen brown and glazed the canvas with the sand tint.

Her imagination knew no bounds, as she walked towards the alluring ocean, leaving her footprints on the sandy shore!

Amaze Me

Amaze Me by Jennifer Lynn Farrell (a Short Story Contest entry)

 

Grandma your so smart

You know all the names of the birds

You always tell me short stories

I start to giggle when you read me riddles

When Christmas is here I savor each bite of your pecan pie

I like to hear about your trips to Germany

Most of all I love to hear your memories of cape cod

 

 

I am honored to have as my grandmother

I thank you for being such a wonderful grandma

Memento

Memento by Karen L. Famiglietti (a Short Story Contest entry)

A pink cosmetic bag held a lipstick and a folded sheet of paper; a packing list, revealing her personal daily necessities. I felt like I was invading her privacy, delving into drawers that were not meant for others to examine. Now it is tucked away in my drawer, until a loved one finds it and feels a sense of connection to a life past. Occasionally, I hold it, and I remember my grandmother.

Untitled

Untitled by Barbara Keegan (a Short Story Contest entry)

 

Alone. Inside. Post surgery. The house is quiet and dark, and so are my thoughts. Dreadful depressing loneliness closes in on me.

 

Deep breath. Step out onto the front porch. The transformation is immediate. Always cool and shady, the sprawling old oak tree conceals me from passersby. No one ever sees me sitting here. But I can see and hear them - walking, running, biking, driving past. And I am immediately in a brighter place, no longer alone.

Grandma’s “Dieagreedies”

Grandma’s “Dieagreedies” by Elayne Risley (a Short Story Contest entry)

 

Hey little one slow down. It’s called diabetes but I like your novel word better. 

 

I am greedy and greedy eating is really a better explanation of what it’s about when you’re eating too many carbs and sweets. It turns into “dieagreedies”just like you said.

 

Come will make a healthy dinner with yummy salad, roast chicken and naturally delicious baked apples. Good choices so you don’t ever inherit “dieagreedies.”

Gertrude’s Bigger Problem

Gertrude’s Bigger Problem by David Klotzkin (a Short Story Contest entry) 

 

Gertrude had had it with her husband hogging the bed. One dark night, she snuck out and checked into a fine hotel. She just wanted a good night’s sleep!

 

She floated, languorous, centered, in the soft silk sheets of the king-size bed, wide awake. She couldn’t sleep until she scrunched all the way over and clutched the edge of the bed like an ant on a stick. 

 

“Oh, hell,” she thought ruefully.

A Simple Tribute

A Simple Tribute by Cecilia Regan (a Short Story Contest entry) 

 

He was not feeling 100%. He scheduled a doctor’s appointment and looked forward to celebrating his birthday with his children, their spouses and his grandchildren. They shared ice cream and blueberry pie, his favorite. His grandkids urged him to make a wish. “I don’t need to make a wish”, he grinned. “I have everything I have ever wanted.”

Twenty-four hours later he died of cardiac arrest......He was the love of my life.

Creek

With my knees in the icy creek, I put my hand to the back of my head, finding it sticky with blood.

My sister was running towards me when I realized something wasn’t right. If she had thrown the rock that had knocked me down, how could she be coming this way?

When I looked down, I saw two jacketed arms and two very large hands grabbing me from behind.
 

Memento

A pink cosmetic bag held a lipstick and a folded sheet of paper; a packing list, revealing her personal daily necessities. I felt like I was invading her privacy, delving into drawers that were not meant for others to examine. Now it is tucked away in my drawer, until a loved one finds it and feels a sense of connection to a life past. Occasionally, I hold it, and I remember my grandmother.