Think Like Yellow
By Deborah Dybowski
Yesterday, Billy’s mom bought him a new crayon box and a package of yellow pencils with his name engraved on them. He was so excited he took the pencils out of the package and used all five of them to write and draw before he went to bed.
In the morning, he couldn’t find the pencils. He was sure he placed them on his desk next to his backpack, but none of the five pencils was there. He looked everywhere in his room, under the bed, in the closet, on his dresser, and under his desk, but he couldn’t find one pencil.
It wasn’t until he threw his gum in the bathroom trash that he found one of his pencils lying in the bottom of the can. He had a hard time pulling it free. It was as if it had been glued to the bottom of the trash bin. He pulled as hard as he could.
It finally came free just as his mother was calling him to be outside for the school bus. Quickly, he placed the yellow pencil inside his crayon box where there was just enough room for one pencil.
As soon as Billy closed the crayon box lid, the yellow crayon began talking to the yellow pencil.
“Why are you so late?” she asked. The sun is shining and it’s our first day of school. You don’t seem happy, bright and warm this morning.”
“I’ve been thinking too much about a new day at school and all the writing I will have to do and all the mistakes I will make. By the end of the day, my eraser won’t be fresh and new. It will be flat against my head with hardly anything left. Tomorrow, there won’t be any way Billy can use my eraser. He’ll want to throw me away. I’m feeling very frightened and uneasy. My thinking doesn’t know where to go next.”
Yellow crayon answered, “Well, yes that does happen to those of us who are yellow but I try not to overthink things. I go with the flow.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah. That’s because all you do is colour in the lines. In The Lines! I have the responsibility to draw those lines without making them crooked.”
“Don’t be so serious. Have some fun. Be creative like me. Sometimes I colour light yellow and sometimes I colour dark yellow. Sometimes I make lines, too. Just let Billy hold you in his hand and go where he takes you. You don’t need to be so perfect. If your eraser goes flat against you, Billy has three pink erasers in his backpack.
“How are you so smart?” Pencil asked Crayon.
“Because I’m Yellow. My colour means I’m smart, friendly, full of light and hope”
“Well, I am yellow, too and so are my pencil friends. I can be happy, hopeful, and full of light like the sun, too,” Pencil demanded.
“Sure, you can. All you have to do is be who you are!” Crayon exclaimed.
“Yes, I’m a yellow fellow and I like yellow. I just need to think like yellow,” said Pencil, beaming.
- Total nr. of readings: 6,542 Copyright © The author  All Rights Reserved. This story may not be reproduced without the express written permission of the author except for personal use.
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