I suppose everyone has his own version to a tale. The truth is in the eye of the beholder. So regardless of whether you believe my side of the story or not, I am going to tell you the way I saw it happen. You can decide what you want to believe when I’m done.
I’ll begin by telling you about my brothers. I’m the middle of three. My oldest brother usually makes most of the decisions for us. For the most part, it doesn’t bother me. When my younger brother and I disagree, he resolves our issues in no time. He wears a baker’s hat, and really, the credit belongs to him for our invention and the fame we receive.
My younger brother enjoys practical jokes. Despite his clumsy and mischievous ways, he stands out as the life of any party we attend. Upon his head you find a bandleader’s cap. He writes music and is responsible for the jingles that later will sell our product all over the world.
I love wearing my red-and-white striped stocking cap and receive recognition for being the peacemaker of our clan. Some call me “good-hearted”. I’m not sure about that, but I do know that life can be a blast. I believe in living it to the fullest each day.
Now, let me return to the gist of my story, since you now know a little about my brothers and myself. It was 1929, the year of the Great Depression. Despite the fact that it was a difficult year for most in America, it was the year of opportunity for us.
Working in the kitchen as usual, Snap moistens the rice and places his next batch in the oven to finish cooking. Out of the blue we hear a knock at our tree house door.
Pop runs to look through the peek hole. “Eeeeh, gads! There’s a huge eyeball out there!”
“What?” I say, wanting to get a gander at what he sees. “Snap, he’s right. It’s a human at our door.”
“Move, Crackle. I’ll take care of this.” Pop says as he moves me away and slowly opens the door. “Hello. May I help you?”
“Yes. My name is William Kellogg and this is my brother, Harvey. We’ve been walking in your neck of the woods for several weeks now searching for the source of this wonderful smell. It finally brought us to your tree. What are you cooking?”
“Rice.” Pop tells them.
“Rice? May we try it?”
Pop retrieves several pieces and gives them to the Kellogg brothers.
“That’s delicious. It’s just what we’re looking for to feed our patients at the sanitarium.”
Pop, Snap, and I just look at each other.
“Will you show us how to make this? We believe we can make you famous with this crispy rice you have invented.” William tells us.
So we did. We gave them our recipe and in return they featured us on the box of cereal. They debated over our names and wanted to call us Soggy, Mushy, and Touchy, but Snap insisted on our own names. We explained that we were gnomes, and in the early years, that was how they pictured us. In time, they rounded out our eyes and started describing us as elves. As long as we kept our names and our hats, we didn’t care much about the rest.
Pop wrote the music that always includes our names, even though the humans said it referred to the sounds coming from the cereal bowl. We became known around the world. In Sweden we are known as Piff, Paff, and Puff. However, in Germany they say Knisper, Knasper, and Knusper. The Finland children call us Poks, Riks, and Raks. My favorite of all is when they refer to us in Canada as Cric, Crac, and Croc.
We love the commercials Kellogg features us in, but the highlight of our day is when we meet the children that eat our Rice Krispies. Over the years, they added flavors and have used the rice for different recipes. The children all over the world say their favorite are the marshmallow treats. I have to admit that this is my favorite, too.
Life as a gnome has been different then we expected. Although we tend to stay away from humans, for Snap, Pop, and myself we are glad we didn’t.
So, that’s our story, from my point of view. I don’t know about you, but I like it.
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