Posts Tagged ‘Acceptance’

The pigs shimmied up to the bar at 106 Dooley Street.

 They sat, ordered their usual, and engaged in spirited conversation about the issues of the day.

 It was 12:30 when Chicken-one arrived.

 He waddled-shimmied up to the bar where the pigs had convened two-hours before.  They were sharing spirited brotherhood.

 “Oink oink, cluck cluck, oink oink oink, grunt grunt, cluck oink” he said as he bellied up to the bar.

 “Oink oink grunt” they responded, and tossed a few candied corn and a piece of bread in his direction.

                                                                           Two more hours had passed.

 The door swung open.  In the doorway with breast held high and one monocled eye  –  stood…chicken-two.

 The pigs all turned to stare.                 At the far end of the bar a beak-snout peered…barely visible.

 Spurs armed to strike – – – beak poised to maim – – – dust-broom at the ready.

                                                               Chicken-one blocked the entrance.

Oink oink oink, cluck oink, oink oink cluck!” he charged.  “There’s only room for one.  There’s only room for one.  There’s only enough candy-corn and bread to feed one!  Find your own!”

 “But Brother – – – cluck!” complained, retorted, begged, pleaded chicken-two.

 “NO Brother!” demanded chicken-one.  Oink!



                                                  Chicken-two was put out by chicken-one.   He turned and left.

 Chicken-one waddle-shimmied back to his spot and continued to eat what was given to him.

 “Oink oink cluck oink” he said proudly.

                                              The bar was crowded. The music was blaring.  No one paid notice.

                                               He had earned his day’s rations.  He knew it.  They knew it.


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The Brown Egg

The Brown Egg

Page 1:

Okay children. Gather around.  It’s storytelling time.

Yes honey – that bench.  I know it’s cold.  Don’t worry.  It will warm up soon.  Just sit down.

Julius, move around and let your sister sit down!

Theophilus Jackson Jr.!  Boy you want to get a good cut tail on your birthday? 

Just sit down and stay quiet!

You know dem people be sayin’ “Don’t be beatin’ on yuh chilren?” Well boy, just you keep dat up, I will give you de phone an dial it for you…okay?  Now just sit down!

 Page 2:

One day a farmer’s wife was about to make breakfast.  You know, she was setting to make eggs, and hash browns, and pan cakes…some good stuff. 

Anyway, little did she know that all week there had been trouble brewing in the fridge.  Oh yes, big turmoil in the fridge.

Earlier that week the farmer’s wife went to the market to buy groceries for the week.

She had bought this dozen eggs from the grocer’s. 

Unbeknown to her, she had eleven white eggs and one brown egg in there. 

The farmer’s wife took her bag with her goods in it, and went home. 

She set all her groceries in the fridge and went about her business. She didn’t look at it! 

Page 3:

Well, anyway, the eggs were sitting in there just minding their own business.

Until one day they got to looking around.

Hey kids, do you remember that Sesame Street song that goes, “One of these things just doesn’t belong here?”  You remember that song? 

Well them eggs start to look down to the corner of that carton!  They did not know what was going on.

Now, they had heard of brown eggs before. 

They remembered that just down the road there was a farm that had two chickens that laid brown eggs. 

They had no real problems with brown eggs.  It just that; “What was it doing here?!”

Oh you should see them trying not to stare! 

The one just across from him looked over and gave that nervous smile…

“Uh hello,” she said.  It was really awkward! 

Page 4:

The poor brown egg felt so badly!

“Look” he protested, “I am just like any other egg in here!”

The white eggs looked across at him.

“Did someone say you were different? Who said that?  None of us here would say a thing like that!”

“I didn’t”, “I wouldn’t”, I didn’t”…said each egg in turn.

“You don’t have to say it,” said the Brown egg. 

“I can see it in your eyes.”

“Ha, ha,” they chuckled. 

“Are we a little paranoid” they mused?

“Whatever!” he said totally exasperated. 

Page 5:

One morning, the farmer’s wife came to the fridge to make breakfast for her husband.

She took out the bacon.  He loved bacon.

She took out the eggs.  He loved eggs.

She took out the pancakes and syrup.   He loved pancakes and syrup.

She opened the carton of fresh new eggs that she bought. 

“Oh!” she said to herself.

The farmer’s wife carefully reached in the carton and took out two eggs.  The farmer loved two eggs.

She fried them up so nicely.  It was a good breakfast.  He loved his breakfast. 

 Page 6:

No honey, she did not take the brown egg.  What you mean she’ll never pick the brown egg!  You don’t know that.

 She closed the fridge and went about her daily chores.

In the fridge, the brown egg thought and he thought, and he thought. 

“Ah,” he said to himself: “If I show them that I’m just like them, they’ll have to understand and let me be part of the group!

So now he focused his entire energy on trying to make the other eggs feel comfortable with him.

He dearly wanted them to know that he was as legitimate as any other egg in that carton, and that he earned a right to be there.

He wanted the farmer’s wife to choose him and fry him just like any other egg.

He argued to himself: “It’s not like they ran out of eggs and stuck me in there. I have earned my spot in this carton just like anybody else!”

Page 7:

He made sure that his brown coat was always smooth and shining.

He never rattled the carton or made loud aggressive noises.

He even chose not to wear his favorite hat to bed.

He kept a smile on his face all the time.

He was the nicest brown egg he could be. 

But he always felt that he was the twelfth egg. 

Even when there were only eight of them left – he was still, always, the twelfth egg.

Page 8:

Everyday the farmer’s wife would come to the fridge and make bacon, eggs, and pancakes with syrup for her husband. 

He loved bacon, eggs, and pancakes with syrup. 

Everyday, brown egg would so perk himself up, and shine his bald top when he heard the fridge door about to open.

He just wanted them to see him like any other egg. 

“Pick me!  Pick me!” he thought really loudly. 

Page 9:

Then there were only two. 

The fridge opened and he knew it was finally his turn. 

“It’s only two of us left, and the farmer has two fried eggs every morning,” he thought. 

Oh how he beamed with the thought of finally getting the chance to show how special he was…how “just like any other egg,” he was. 

 Mrs. Farmer came to the fridge, and took out the final two eggs. 

He felt the warmth of her hands as she grasped him. 

She laid him carefully on the counter. 

He saw the strips of fresh bacon laid carefully on a piece of tissue right next to him. 

He could hardly contain himself. 

“It’s my turn!  It’s my turn!” he thought.

He could just catch the scent of oil being warmed. 

Oh, how he longed for this day. 

 Page 10:

 She cracked the other egg directly into the pan.  Oh how it sizzled!

“My turn!  My turn!” He could barely hold his excitement. 

His turn.  She held him and cracked him oh so gently

 …into a cup.

“A cup!”               “A cup!” 

She fiddled with him. 

She spun him around. 

She swirled him a few times in the cup. 

She peered at him and poked at him. 

Then she poured him.

Page 11:

“I guess that’s okay,” he thought.  “At least I got used.” 

He could not, for the life of him, figure out why she felt the need to pour him in a cup and twirl him about. 

But he got used, and that’s all that mattered to him. 

He felt good to finally get his chance to be just like “any other egg.”


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