TITLE: Jack and the Orange Crayon
By Katie Sherrill
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Meet Jack, a playful little boy who loves to use his imagination. One day while Jack’s mother was outside talking to a neighbor, Jack was inside innocently coloring at his table when his little orange crayon started talking to him.
“Hello there Jack, how do you do?
I love to play games, could we play one or two?”
Jack was stunned that his little orange crayon was talking to him, but he was also excited to have a new friend to play with.
“Little orange crayon? Oh what fun, oh what fun!
I would love to play games; will we climb, crawl or run?”
“I’m not much for climbing, I don’t run or crawl.
My favorite things are the games where you draw. “
“Little orange crayon I love to draw too.
We can draw pictures of me and of you.”
The two new friends began to draw. Jack was so excited to have someone to play with. They played tic-tac-toe, and connect the dots. They drew masterpieces until they didn’t have any paper left. Jack had never drawn so much in his entire life. He looked around at all the orange shapes and orange pictures and wondered what they should do next.
“Little orange crayon I think I am bored.
I’m sorry I don’t want to draw anymore.”
“Jack my new friend, but drawing is fun.
We were just warming up, we have only begun!”
Jack looked around at all the paper they had filled confused. He didn’t have any blank spots left to draw on and didn’t know what to do.
“Little orange crayon, I don’t know what to say.
The paper is gone, we can’t draw more today.”
“We don’t need paper, come on let’s explore.
We can color your house, the walls and the floor.”
Without a second thought Jack and his little orange crayon went to work coloring. They put shapes in the bathroom, and drew tracks on the walls. In the dining room Jack drew a picture of his family eating dinner together like they did at Thanksgiving. He was sure his mother would be so proud.
“Little orange crayon so much fun we have had.
But can you please tell me why I’m feeling so bad?”
“Please Jack don’t pout, you have done a good thing.
Your house is so pretty your mother will sing.”
Looking over at all they did, Jack started having second thoughts. He wasn’t sure anymore if his mother would be proud. He remembered her telling him to stay on the paper. All of a sudden he didn’t think she would be too happy about all the pictures he’d drawn on the walls. Jack started feeling sad that he’d made such a mess. He looked at the little orange crayon and started to cry.
“Little orange crayon what have you done?
I know that you thought that our play was all fun.”
“Little orange crayon just look at this mess.
When my mother comes in she will be in distress.”
Jack cried harder as he looked around for what he should do. Not sure how he got into this spot he stared to get angry at the little orange crayon thinking he tricked him into writing on the walls. He didn’t want to get into trouble but knew as soon as his mother saw the orange drawings he would be for sure.
“Little orange crayon you are solely to blame.
I don’t think my mother will see it the same.”
“Little orange crayon I’ll be in timeout for a year.
Your new home will be the trash can I fear.”
“Jack my dear friend what can we do?
I’m sorry I made so much trouble for you.”
Jack thought and thought, admitting that he was actually the one to blame, he was truly sorry. He had to try and make it right somehow. Not wanting to get into even more trouble, he figured the best thing he could do was confess.
“Mother I’m sorry I did something wrong.
I drew on the floor but I knew all along,
paper is for drawing, not the ceiling or floor,
not the dining room wall, just paper-- nothing more.”
What happened next caught Jack totally by surprise. His mother scooped him up into her arms, wiped away his tears, and kissed him on the forehead.
“Jack my sweet boy I am so proud of you.
Thank you for telling me what you did do.”
“I don’t like the mess; it is not ok.
But telling me ‘sorry’ has sure made my day.”
Jack hugged his mother around her neck and cried harder. He was so relieved that she still loved him. He felt relief grow and push out the sadness. Jack helped his mother clean up the crayon marks, but his mother stopped him when he started to scrub the picture on the dining room wall.
“Though what you did was wrong,” she said with a smile.
“This one is special, it should stay for awhile.”
That night lying in bed, Jack remembered his day and all that he learned. He knew that what he did was wrong and would not do it again, but he had to admit that playing with his new friend the little orange crayon was pretty fun.
“Little orange crayon you sure made me smile.
I don’t think I’ll have this much fun for awhile.”
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