I looked around my halfway decent living room this morning and saw a broken crayon. Orange, Martin's favorite color. Can you imagine the life of this little crayon?
Somehow I picture it coming to life after being formed. Looking around and realizing that it and it's siblings are standing in their birthdays suits. Being completely embarrassed but having no arms to hide it's shame.
Relief washes over it as the machine gives it a nice orange outfit trimmed in black. As it aimlessly wanders down the line it dreams of what it'll be able to do. Sees pumpkins and dogs, maybe a tiger or two in its future. Held by the loving hand of a child.
Does it ever occur to this lone crayon in the midst of this group that there just might be a toddler that insists she is a teething ring? Is she aware the cat will bat her from one end of the room to the other? Or that she may end up in a classroom with several children who will fight over her at any given moment?
She is separated from her siblings of the same color. Shoved in a box between a grumpy blue, that insists she is crowding him, and a bright red, that will not quit singing Living la vida loca in a deep voice. They feel their new home shifting constantly for a couple of days. All of them excitedly discussing who they hope will take them home.
They will be disappointed. The first couple of days they sit and wait there is still hope. Soon they all give up hope and turn to hibernation in boredom. One day they are awaken by the jolting around of their cardboard home. They believe the end is near now, they are almost home.
This time when they stop moving brighter light than before is above them. They hear lots of people, and lots of whining. "But mooooommmmmm I neeeeeeeddddddddd it." and other similar woes. They all cross their imaginary fingers hoping that's not their child. Until one day they hear,"Momma, could we get some fresh crayons please? Mine are getting rather stubby."
They feel their box being lifted. Waiting to be sat back down, they realize the child is holding them close to his chest. They know that they have gotten a child who will cherish them, and they are happy.
Their arrival home proves this to be just right. Their lid is thrown back. A young boy looks happily down at them. He runs his hands over the crayons in their box. He smiles and pulls out his favorite color, orange. He puts her tip to paper and together they make a smiling transformer. Orange sighs happily. Life has come full circle for her.