Gui Gui's Musical Adventure

2025 3rd-4th Grade Prose Honorable Mention

Everybody knows that pandas like to eat bamboo. So, I take my first bite. 
My name is Gui Gui, and I’m a six-month-old panda. I live at the Chengdu Research Base of Giant Panda Breeding. My older siblings think I know too much for my age–probably because it took them a whole year and a half to learn the name of our home. But seriously, it’s written on a board right in front of our play yard! How is that not obvious?

Now that I’m six months old, I finally get to eat real panda food–bamboo! Mom says it’s one of the most important days in a panda’s life! 

I’m excited. For everything. 
Yup, that’s me.

The keeper brought a bowl–which I think has bamboo inside–with “Great Job, Gui Gui!” engraved on it, just as my mother predicted (thanks to her motherly experience). As I approached the green stick called bamboo, I thought to myself: is it really that delicious? It looked pretty plain–green on the outside, white on the inside. 

With everyone watching–even the keepers–I cautiously nibbled a bamboo leaf first. 

BOOM! O.M.G! Absolutely wonderful–the taste! Mildly sweet, grassy, and fibrous!

And that was just the leaves! 
Brimming with excitement, I reached for the bamboo stick. 
Cool to the touch, I opened my mouth…took a bite, and–
AHH! Delightfully crunchy, with a metallic aftertaste. A dream. Well, a weird one–it tastes like metal. 
“How does it taste?” Mom asked. 
“Absolutely disgusting, like dirt?” my brother chimed in. 
“No,” I said (though I never tasted dirt). “IT’S THE BEST FOOD IN THE W-O-R-L-D!!” 

From that moment, I knew my destiny: to eat all the bamboo in existence.
But then… the keeper stared at me in horror and hurried away, screaming.
That’s when I realized: I had accidentally eaten a FLUTE!
The keeper must have put it in the basket by mistake. (Why did it look like bamboo? No idea.)
“Oh dearie, are you okay?” asked Mom. 
I tried to say I’m fine–but instead, out came a gentle, melodious B-flat, ringing far and wide. 
The tourists gasped. 
Out of the crowd, a man stepped forward…
“I heard your beautiful singing and I invite you to go to Juilliard!” he says, handing me an airplane ticket. “You’re going to need this.”
And with that, he left. 
I…. think I should go? 
Yep. I’m going.
With that, I proudly strode away. 
“Bye, everyone! See you on TV!” 
“Bye!” says everyone. 
Mom cries a little. 
As I walked out of the door, I gave my final goodbye. 
Then…. I whooped in joy.
 I’m going to Juilliard! Let’s go!!!!!

............................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................
Okay. Going to Juilliard isn’t as fun as expected. It took me 15 hours to get to the airport and another 2 hours to get to Juilliard. People kept staring at me suspiciously– WHY?! 

I opened the door. Inside was a row of wooden staircases leading up. I started walking up those stairs. But halfway up, I desperately needed to pee! I ran up the stairs and rushed for the bathroom.

******************

Meanwhile…. “Now, our next auditioner is….Gui Gui!! ”
Complete silence.
“Is Gui Gui here?” No response. 
“Well, let’s move on.”
“Wait!” called someone in the crowd. “I looked it up–Gui Gui means turtle in Chinese!” 
Gasps filled the room. 
“Juilliard agents, please fetch me a turtle!” ordered the judge.
“Yes, sir!”
A few moments later, a confused turtle from Central Park was dragged in. 

**********************
Finally, I rushed out of the bathroom and into the audition hall. 

Everyone gasped and somebody fainted. Then everybody rushed over to me. They were speaking to me, and I did not understand a single word. Baffled and anxious, I screamed at the top of my lungs–which came out as a perfect C-sharp. 
Another person fainted.

The judge raised a hand. “Who just sang that beautiful C-sharp note?”
Everyone pointed at me.
“Hmmmm…. that’s impressive…. Let’s see if you can sing a real song,” he said.
The judge sat at the piano and started playing, gesturing me to follow.
I nodded. And I started singing. 
The room fell silent. 
Then–tap—tap—tap. I heard something behind me: an upbeat, rhythmic drumming. I turned around.
It was a turtle. She was pounding wildly on her shell and tummy. 
Later, I learned her name was Shelly. 
And that’s how both of us got into Juilliard and became best buddies.