Piggly, Wiggly, Squiggly…And ?
Once upon a time (and maybe fairly recently) there were three little Lines—and they each wanted to make their own point. Their names were quite apt. So let’s begin the “fairy” tale.
An editor began talking quietly to himself. I really want the Lines to help me make an important point. I must quickly catch an interview and persuade each of these varied, yet interesting personalities.
“Oh, I know I will make the best point,” said Mr. Piggly Line. “Why everyone admires my rich thick flow and the boldness. It wins awards at famous art shows everywhere. Just to prove the point (ha, ha), you can see my top five awards on my wall that I received at the Westminster Penmanship Show. Then, suddenly, Mr. Piggly with all his voluptuous Flair had to run to his next famous competition.
Next I had to almost do a dance to get Mr. Wiggly to settle down to even talk about his view of being in the famous Line family. “And, Mr. Wiggly, oh, Mr. Wiggly. Yoo-hoo, Mr. Wiggly, “
“Oh, there you are. I really was just hunting all over for you. I know I agreed to this interview, but, as you can tell from my apt name, I have a horrible time of just sitting –or standing still long enough to let anyone interview me.”
“Well, I promise to not take too long. Have you some comments for letting us know you better and how you came upon your much imitated style of writing?”
“Oh, well, yes, “ he finally stood still long enough to say. “That is surprising how many do seem to emulate and imitate me. I feel it is sometimes more of a fault than an asset, but I can’t seem to help it.”
And he tried to wiggle away from me again. Finally, I caught his pen as it made one of its very quick wandering curves and held it gently, but firmly. “Mr. Wiggly,--as you were saying why you might not be able to help your style of lines…”
“Oh, yes, uh, let me think.” And his ink made an unsightly blot upon the paper that I had asked him to record upon. “Oh, maybe it’s because I just have too many obligations and writing like my brother, Mr. Piggly, is just too much for me. Why I have obligations to my family and society. I am now late to my next appointment with the Museum of National Art. Oh, you must excuse me; my attention span is rather brief. See you,” and he wiggled out of my grasp—running to his next event.
“Oh, well,” I thought. Then I finally found Mr. Squiggly Line. He was hidden between piles of paper on the Line desk. I had to almost coax him out of hiding. It seems he had been perhaps adding too much alcohol to his mixture of ink. “Come, come, Mr. Squiggly Line, I must interview all of the Line family. You know, or course, that you are famous?”
And Mr. Squiggly finally raised the tip of his rather smeared pen up. “And who are you, and what do you want? Everybody wants something from me. I hate being wanted so badly. I’m just me—me—do you hear me? …Individual and proud of it-- so proud that I can do without everyone.”
“Yes, yes, Mr. Squiggly, but I still need your input.”
“You don’t need my input; you just want to use me. This is the end of your ‘interview’. I’m awfully tired right now and might need just a little more ‘pep-up’ juice. And Mr. Squiggly re-entered his world of self pity.
My face seemed to grow so long that I thought I might have to add anti-aging cream. I can’t even get them together at all to make my very important point. Mr. Piggly is too full of himself and busy; Mr. Wiggly can’t concentrate long enough; and Mr. Squiggly is too full of self- pity. But I so wanted for all of them to work together. They are simply missing the most important point of all: If we work together, we can combine all the lines and then the most wonderful words would be spoken because God could use us. We and others would be changed forever for the better… and that is the “point.”
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