PernellRodocker
Member
- Joined
- Apr 12, 2011
- Messages
- 64
(My first child's book, I never found an illustrator or a publisher)
If I could ask a cricket one question I would ask; why do you chirp in the night so dark?
I was in my bed praying to God. When I heard this sound. Chirp, Chirp, Chirp, Chirp. My window was open and a cool breeze softly blew the curtains.
I got out of my bed and sat by the window. I looked out at the stars twinkling in the darkened sky. The moon shone brightly upon the water in the fishpond. Again I heard that sound. Chirp, Chirp, Chirp, Chirp.
I looked around the bushes under the window and I saw a little black cricket with shiny eyes sitting upon a stone. Chirp, Chirp, Chirp, Chirp. The cricket seemed so happy to be chirping in the breeze. I took the flash light from under my pillow and shined it on the stone.
The cricket looked up at me. To my surprise the cricket said, “Hello there little boy, my name is Wicket the Cricket”. “My name is Benjamin Samuel”, I said. Wicket continued to chirp while he made his way up the bushes and onto the windowsill.
Wicket looked at me all puzzled and asked me a question. “Do you chirp in the breeze when its night time and the stars are twinkling”? I answered quickly with a look of disbelief on my face, “Why, no I don’t!” Wicket looked at me with disbelief and asked, “What do you do?” It was a question that made me wrinkle my nose and open my eyes wide.
“Well”, I said. “I do lots of things”. “I go to school, I play with my toys, I pray to God¼” Just then I was interrupted by Wicket. “You pray to God?” he asked. “Well, yes I do, doesn’t everyone?” I asked.
Wicket looked at me and said, “I have hopped around for a long time and have sat on many windowsills and asked the same question to each boy and girl that would listen.” “But, there are only a few that have said they pray to God”.
“Really”, I asked? Wicket turned away and faced the window. He stopped chirping and a tear ran down his face. It glistened in the moonlight. I felt sad to see Wicket the Cricket shed a tear. “Don’t cry Wicket”, I said. Wicket wiped his tear away and asked me another question.
“Why is it¼” he paused. “Why is it that they all don’t pray to God”? I was puzzled for a moment. I thought so hard that my head began to hurt. For a second I couldn’t answer. Wicket then jumped out on the bushes and began to chirp again.
“Wicket”, I asked. “Do you know why the other boys and girls don’t pray to God”? Wicket smiled at me and said I should ask my Mommy and Daddy.
Wicket began to make his way back down to the stone by the bushes. The breeze stopped blowing and Wicket stopped chirping. “Wicket”, I said. “Could I ask you one question”?
Wicket looked up at me puzzled. He made his way back up the bushes and onto the windowsill again. “What would you like to ask me”, he curiously asked? “Well”, I said. “If I could ask a cricket one question I would ask”, “Why do you chirp in the night so dark”?
Wicket looked at me and wrinkled his nose and opened his eyes so wide. “No one has ever asked me that question before”, Wicket exclaimed! Wicket sat down and thought and thought and thought. “Hmm”, said Wicket.
“God has made me wonderfully special”, he said. “When the night comes and the stars are twinkling and the breeze is blowing, I just want to thank God for making me who I am and to sing joyfully to him”. I looked at Wicket and said, “I sing to God in church on Sunday and I thank Him for making me”.
Wicket hopped out the window and down the bushes and onto the stone. “The night time comes more than once a week”, Wicket exclaimed! Wicket hopped out of sight. I went back to bed and thought about what Wicket the Cricket had said.
I began to sing to God and thank Him for making me. My Mommy and Daddy came into my room rather surprised and Daddy said, “Son, why aren’t you asleep yet and why are you singing to God”?
I answered and said with a smile, “Daddy, nighttime comes more than once a week”. Mommy and Daddy were quiet for a moment. The soft breeze begin to blow the curtains again and a cricket began to chirp¼
(Copyright October 12, 2003 Pernell R. Rodocker)
May the talents that God has blessed me with, both glorify Him and bless all who read these stories.
PR
If I could ask a cricket one question I would ask; why do you chirp in the night so dark?
I was in my bed praying to God. When I heard this sound. Chirp, Chirp, Chirp, Chirp. My window was open and a cool breeze softly blew the curtains.
I got out of my bed and sat by the window. I looked out at the stars twinkling in the darkened sky. The moon shone brightly upon the water in the fishpond. Again I heard that sound. Chirp, Chirp, Chirp, Chirp.
I looked around the bushes under the window and I saw a little black cricket with shiny eyes sitting upon a stone. Chirp, Chirp, Chirp, Chirp. The cricket seemed so happy to be chirping in the breeze. I took the flash light from under my pillow and shined it on the stone.
The cricket looked up at me. To my surprise the cricket said, “Hello there little boy, my name is Wicket the Cricket”. “My name is Benjamin Samuel”, I said. Wicket continued to chirp while he made his way up the bushes and onto the windowsill.
Wicket looked at me all puzzled and asked me a question. “Do you chirp in the breeze when its night time and the stars are twinkling”? I answered quickly with a look of disbelief on my face, “Why, no I don’t!” Wicket looked at me with disbelief and asked, “What do you do?” It was a question that made me wrinkle my nose and open my eyes wide.
“Well”, I said. “I do lots of things”. “I go to school, I play with my toys, I pray to God¼” Just then I was interrupted by Wicket. “You pray to God?” he asked. “Well, yes I do, doesn’t everyone?” I asked.
Wicket looked at me and said, “I have hopped around for a long time and have sat on many windowsills and asked the same question to each boy and girl that would listen.” “But, there are only a few that have said they pray to God”.
“Really”, I asked? Wicket turned away and faced the window. He stopped chirping and a tear ran down his face. It glistened in the moonlight. I felt sad to see Wicket the Cricket shed a tear. “Don’t cry Wicket”, I said. Wicket wiped his tear away and asked me another question.
“Why is it¼” he paused. “Why is it that they all don’t pray to God”? I was puzzled for a moment. I thought so hard that my head began to hurt. For a second I couldn’t answer. Wicket then jumped out on the bushes and began to chirp again.
“Wicket”, I asked. “Do you know why the other boys and girls don’t pray to God”? Wicket smiled at me and said I should ask my Mommy and Daddy.
Wicket began to make his way back down to the stone by the bushes. The breeze stopped blowing and Wicket stopped chirping. “Wicket”, I said. “Could I ask you one question”?
Wicket looked up at me puzzled. He made his way back up the bushes and onto the windowsill again. “What would you like to ask me”, he curiously asked? “Well”, I said. “If I could ask a cricket one question I would ask”, “Why do you chirp in the night so dark”?
Wicket looked at me and wrinkled his nose and opened his eyes so wide. “No one has ever asked me that question before”, Wicket exclaimed! Wicket sat down and thought and thought and thought. “Hmm”, said Wicket.
“God has made me wonderfully special”, he said. “When the night comes and the stars are twinkling and the breeze is blowing, I just want to thank God for making me who I am and to sing joyfully to him”. I looked at Wicket and said, “I sing to God in church on Sunday and I thank Him for making me”.
Wicket hopped out the window and down the bushes and onto the stone. “The night time comes more than once a week”, Wicket exclaimed! Wicket hopped out of sight. I went back to bed and thought about what Wicket the Cricket had said.
I began to sing to God and thank Him for making me. My Mommy and Daddy came into my room rather surprised and Daddy said, “Son, why aren’t you asleep yet and why are you singing to God”?
I answered and said with a smile, “Daddy, nighttime comes more than once a week”. Mommy and Daddy were quiet for a moment. The soft breeze begin to blow the curtains again and a cricket began to chirp¼
(Copyright October 12, 2003 Pernell R. Rodocker)
May the talents that God has blessed me with, both glorify Him and bless all who read these stories.
PR
