Canfield Jack - A little sip of chicken soup for the soul : inspiring stories of self-affirmation

This book made available by the Internet Archive.

nee a little boy went to school. He was quite a little boy. And it was quite a big school. But when the little boy Found that he could go to his room By walking right in from the

door outside, He was happy. And the school did not seem Quite so big any more.

One morning,

When the little boy had been in

school a while, The teacher said:

"Today we are going to make

a picture." "Good!" thought the little boy. He liked to make pictures. He could make all kinds: Lions and tigers, Chickens and cows, Trains and boats -And he took out his box of crayons And began to draw.

But the teacher said: "Wait! It is not time to begin!" And she waited until everyone looked ready.

"Now," said the teacher,

"We are going to make flowers."

"Good!" thought the little boy,

He liked to make flowers,

And he began to make beautiful ones

With his pink and orange and blue crayons.

But the teacher said,

"Wait! And I will show you how."

And she drew a flower on the blackboard.

It was red, with a green stem.

"There," said the teacher.

"Now you may begin."

The little boy looked at the teacher's flower. Then he looked at his own flower, He liked his flower better than the teacher's. But he did not say this,

He just turned his paper over

And made a flower like the teacher's.

It was red, with a green stem.

On another day,

When the little boy had opened

The door from the outside all by himself,

The teacher said,

"Today we are going to make something with clay."

"Good!" thought the little boy.

He liked clay.

He could make all kinds of things

with clay: Snakes and snowmen, Elephants and mice, Cars and trucks

And he began to pull and pinch His ball of clay.

But the teacher said,

"Wait! It is not time to begin!"

And she waited until everyone looked ready.

"Now," said the teacher, "We are going to make a dish." "Good!" thought the little boy, He liked to make dishes, And he began to make some That were all shapes and sizes.

But the teacher said,

"Wait! And I will show you how."

And she showed everyone how to make

One deep dish.

"There," said the teacher,

"Now you may begin."

The little boy looked at the

teacher's dish Then he looked at his own. He liked his dishes better than the

teacher's But he did not say this, He just rolled his clay into a big

ball again, And made a dish like the teacher's. It was a deep dish.

And pretty soon

The little boy learned to wait

And to watch,

And to make things just like the

teacher. And pretty soon He didn't make things of his

own anymore.

Then it happened

That the little boy and his family

Moved to another house,

In another city,

And the little boy

Had to go to another school.

This school was even Bigger

Than the other one,

And there was no door from the outside

Into his room.

He had to go up some big steps,

And walk down a long hall

To get to his room.

And the very first day

He was there, the teacher said,

"Today we are going to make a picture."

"Good!" thought the little boy, And he waited for the teacher To tell him what to do But the teacher didn't say anything. She just walked around the room.

When she came to the little boy, She said, "Don't you want to make

a picture?" "Yes," said the little boy. "What are we going to make?" "I don't know until you make it," said

the teacher. "How shall I make it?" asked the

little boy. "Why, any way you like," said the

teacher. "And any color?" asked the little boy. "Any color," said the teacher,

"If everyone made the same picture,

And used the same colors,

How would I know who made what,

And which was which?"

"I don't know," said the little boy.

And he began to make pink and orange

and blue flowers.

He liked his new school, Even if it didn't have a door Right in from the outside!

Risking

by Patty Hansen

fertile spring soil.

The first seed said, "I want to grow! I want to send my roots deep into the soil beneath me and thrust my sprouts through the earth's crust above me.... I want to unfurl my tender buds like banners to announce the arrival of spring.... I

want to feel the warmth of the sun on my face and the blessing of the morning dew on my petals!"

And so she grew.

The second seed said, "I am afraid. If I send my roots into the ground below, I don't know what I will encounter in the dark. If I push my way through the hard soil above me, I may damage my delicate sprouts....What if I let my buds open and a snail tries to eat them? And if I were to open my blossoms, a small child may pull me from the ground. No, it is much better for me to wait until it is safe."

And so she waited.

A yard hen scratching around in the early spring ground for food found the waiting seed and promptly ate it.

MORAL OF THE STORY

Those of us who refuse to risk and grow get swallowed up by life.

Discouraged?

by lack Can field