My Children's Story

In a little toy store

There was a shelf way at the top

Full of music boxes.

There were boxes of fine cherry wood

of mahogany and elm,

carved with intricate designs

gently curving lines,

and a little dancer in each one;

each more lovely than the sun,

with a fluffy tutu and a tight high bun.

All but one.

Her name was Elisa,

And she was a hippopotamus.

When her lid was opened, she was met with surprise:

“Why, I can’t believe my eyes!

A pirouetting hippo, how funny!

But it certainly isn’t worth my money.”

And they’d put Elisa back on the high, high shelf.

One day, a little girl came in

and her little-girl gaze was drawn to Elisa and her kin.

She picked up each box, weighing them somberly

like little girls do,

looking inside of a few.

She glanced gravely at Elisa’s sisters,

On her face a frown.

She looked at their identical faces,

and put them back down.

Finally, she opened Elisa’s box.

“Now’s my chance,” Elisa thought,

“I must show her my dance!”

And the box cracked open,

and the music played.

Elisa wasn't afraid.

She twirled and spun,

the perfect run.

The little girl laughed, smiled, and,

with a wide grin,

put Elisa back down again.

“What was that for?” Elisa cried, as the girl

ran out of the store.

“Could I have done more?”

But before Elisa had time to mope,

she heard the door;

a sound of hope

as the girl ran in,

clutching the hand of a woman, tall and thin.

“The hippo one, Mommy!” she yelled

With a point right at Elisa’s box.

And so, our unusual dancer found a home.

And from her story, we can see

That special is okay to be.