Odessa and the Last Face of the Cube
Odessa's cousin could solve a puzzle cube in less time than it took to brush his teeth. So when he left a spare cube at her house, she decided she would learn to do it too.
She twisted the cube for an hour and finished one side, and when she turned proudly to the next side, the first side fell to pieces. She groaned, finished that side again, and watched the same thing happen. Three days went by like that.
On the fourth day, Odessa had an idea. Instead of twisting at random, she wrote down every set of turns that seemed to work, and in her notebook she drew little arrows for each move. One page showed how to slide a piece into place without wrecking the rest, and another showed how to turn a corner piece.
Now when she made a mistake, she did not start over. She checked the notebook and tried a different set of turns. The cube still fought her, but it began to lose.
After two weeks, Odessa sat on the porch with the cube in her hands. She twisted and twisted. Then she looked down and saw six faces, each one a single, bright color.
She did not break any records. She did not even smile right away. She just held the cube up to the light, the way you might hold a trophy, and let out a long, happy breath.