Monday, November 14, 2005
the wooden people
Adapted this story
THE WOODEN PEOPLEThe Wemmicks were small wooden people. Every Wemmick was different. Some had big noses, others had large eyes. Some were tall and others were short. Some wore hats, others wore coats. But all were made by the same carver and all lived in the village. And all day, every day, the Wemmicks did the same thing: They gave each other stickers. Each Wemmick had a box of golden star stickers and a box of gray dot stickers. Up and down the streets all over the city, people could be seen sticking stars or dots on one another.
The pretty ones, those with smooth wood and fine paint, always got stars. But if the wood was rough or the paint chipped, the Wemmicks gave dots. The talented ones got stars, too. Some could lift big sticks high above their heads or jump over tall boxes. Still others knew big words or could sing very pretty songs. Everyone gave them stars. Some Wemmicks had stars all over them! Every time they got a star it made them feel so good that they did something else and got another star. Others, though, could do little. They got dots.
Punchinello was one of these. He tried to jump high like the others, but he always fell. And when he fell, the others would gather around and give him dots. Sometimes when he fell, it would scar his wood, so the people would give him more dots. He would try to explain why he fell and say something silly, and the Wemmicks would give him more dots.After a while he had so many dots that he didn't want to go outside. He was afraid he would do something dumb such as forget his hat or step in the water, and then people would give him another dot. In fact, he had so many gray dots that some people would come up and give him one without reason.
"He deserves lots of dots," the wooden people would agree with one another.
"He's not a good wooden person." After a while Punchinello believed them. "I'm not a good wemmick," he would say. The few times he went outside, he hung around other Wemmicks who had a lot of dots. He felt better around them. One day he met a Wemmick who was unlike any he'd ever met. She had no dots or stars. She was just wooden. Her name was Lulia.
It wasn't that people didn't try to give her stickers; it's just that the stickers didn't stick. Some admired Lulia for having no dots, so they would run up and give her a star. But it would fall off. Some would look down on her for having no stars, so they would give her a dot. But it wouldn't stay either. "That's the way I want to be," thought Punchinello. "I don't want anyone's marks." hear hear! The As are making me feel terrible. i feel like some circus animal, caught in all that glaring lights n jarring noises, confused, hurt n wanting v much to retreat.. having to perform all sorts of fantastical tricks (look at me dear examiner! look at me! i can do this! i can do that! arent i amazing! am i A material?! am i woooooorthyyy?) just to let some faceless marker brand you worthy or not. uggggh.
but whose fault is it but mine? if i dont let those stickers stick then i wont be feeling this way.. i wont care if i messed up this or that as long as i tried my best. i wont care as long as i did my best even tho my best wasnt enough. i wont care if the examiner wrote 'buffoon' or 'jabbering idiot' on my paper.. nor would i care if he wrote 'wow, math goddess!'. lol.
boy, i've got a lot to learn. n i dont mean A level subjects.
.|.
dreamed.at .|. 3:01 PM