The Pencil Box
Nobody liked Jane. As soon as Emily Sweet found that copy of Anne of Green Gables—a three-hundred-page-long book! —in Jane’s faded purple kindergarten backpack, that was it. Any hope Jane had for a normal life, for swing on the swings, for making a life long friend, someone to share secrets and giggles with, someone to teeter totter with, was over, because nobody likes the smart girl. Nobody likes someone who totes a three hundred page long book to read on the bus. That is the jungle gym’s unwritten rule.
Well, maybe it’s not totally accurate to say that nobody liked Jane. That’s not an entirely true statement. Teachers liked Jane. Teachers loved ...
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With the Wind—a five-hundred-page-long book! —swinging her patent leather Mary Jane shoes because they didn’t reach the ground and she had to do something to keep her attention through the first twenty pages, pages she always found sub-standard to an otherwise exhilarating book. Yes, supposedly teachers just loved Jane. That’s what all the other children accused them of, love, favoritism, unfair grading, and things like that. They just loved Jane, even though they showed it weird ways.
It took Jane’s second grade teacher, Mrs. Terada to really show some Jane some love. Jane thought Mrs. Terada was an absolute nitwit, with her long skinny arms and legs, looking down at all the children through a tiny pair of glasses perched on the end of her nose. And oh, it took all the acting Jane could muster to smile and nod, to not roll her eyes and stick out her tongue when Mrs. Terada presented her with the box. The box sat next to the rattling heat ...
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in big blue letters, it read “My School Box” (well, at least, it used to read that, Jane colored over that with a big smelly black marker too). Whenever she got a gold star or a smiley face on a paper, Jane peeled it off the worksheet of notebook paper and put it in the box. Whenever she read a good book, passed over a great line, Jane took out a piece of paper, wrote something about the book down, maybe copied down the choice line, folded the paper into a tiny square and put it into the box. Sometimes, she’d see a beautiful picture in a book, hear a lovely piece of music and that would go into the box too. VanGogh’s Sunflowers was in the box and so was Edvard ...
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The Pencil Box. (2007, October 27). Retrieved April 23, 2024, from http://www.essayworld.com/essays/The-Pencil-Box/73416
"The Pencil Box." Essayworld.com. Essayworld.com, 27 Oct. 2007. Web. 23 Apr. 2024. <http://www.essayworld.com/essays/The-Pencil-Box/73416>
"The Pencil Box." Essayworld.com. October 27, 2007. Accessed April 23, 2024. http://www.essayworld.com/essays/The-Pencil-Box/73416.
"The Pencil Box." Essayworld.com. October 27, 2007. Accessed April 23, 2024. http://www.essayworld.com/essays/The-Pencil-Box/73416.
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