The Bully Chapter 1 The Woodcarver

 Arienna Faith was listening to her mom and grandmother talking. They were out in the kitchen talking about some relative. She didn't know any of the people that they were talking about so she decided to go to her favorite place on the couch and read a book. Reading was such fun. She loved to be part of the stories that she read. She couldn't wait until her little sister, Livy was able to read. She just knew that she would love it too.

She heard her grandmother talk about a cousin that lived in a different state. He was old too she imagined as she looked through the pages of the book she had chosen. Her ears kind of perked up when she heard that this cousin had married a lady that wrote stories and even some books. "That would be so cool if I could read a story that she had written. I wonder what kind of stories she writes. Livi, come over and sit with me. Would you like me to read a story to you? It looks kind of fun. Remember when we go on field trips and see the ocean? I think this story even has castles and stuff in it too. Cool. Okay this is how it starts. Look! It starts by going down the steps in an old old castle"....

As Arienna and Livy started down the steps they found themselves entering a magical world. They had stepped right into a story book! Arienna took a deep breath and said, "Okay, Livy, this is how it starts."

Once upon a time many many years ago there was an old man that lived by the sea. He was a sad old man. For many years he was well known for doing beautiful wood work. He made clocks and puppets. Many years ago he had made a wooden puppet that looked just like a little boy. He painted a face on the puppet. Of course, he put a smile on his face and bright shining eyes. He put a cute little nose on the puppet and set him on the shelf.

That night he and his cat, Figaro and goldfish, Cleo, settled down for the night. A bright light woke him up. It was a falling star. The old man jumped out of bed and made a wish. 'I wish I may, I wish I might, make a wish this very night.' He wished that the little puppet he had made that day would magically become a real little boy. How he would love to be a father of a little boy; one that he could be proud of.

A beautiful fairy all dressed in blue heard the old man's wish and decided that she would grant his wish for a son. She touched the old man's shoulder and said, "I am going to grant your wish. However, there are some rules that the boy will have to follow. I am making that cricket over there in the corner his conscience. A conscience is an important thing. It helps you make the right decisions. That cricket's name is Jiminy Cricket and he will always be there to help your new son know the difference between right and wrong.

The fairy continued to tell the old man that being a parent was not an easy job, but wished him well.

As the old man looked out at the sea he shook his head. Those first few years had really been difficult. He had named the puppet Pinocchio and my goodness how he had loved him. Pinocchio had been tempted by bad people. He had done things that he shouldn't have and went places that were filled with bullies and really bad people. He shivered as he thought about Treasure Island. I almost lost him forever, but he ended up saving my life by putting his own life in danger. Yes, we had a good life after that, but he grew up and away and now I am very old and alone. My hands are no longer able to carve the wood like I used to and my little cottage is run down and falling apart. I have some wooden dolls started that I must finish or I will not be able to buy food for my cat and my fish. They are all that I have left. Even Jiminy Cricket moved out.

He carefully made his way back to the cottage with a last look at the sea. The sea had kept him company since his son had left, but it could not give him his youth back or his ability to make a living. All he had left was enough wood to make the four dolls and some scraps of cloth for clothes for them.

As the old man walked through the door he knew that his days were numbered. He stumbled as he neared his small bed in the corner. He whispered, "I wish I may, I wish I might, see my son once more tonight."