“I’m going to draw an eagle,” she said to herself. “I’ll draw an eagle with wide brown wings and great big claws. I’ll draw a tree beside him.”
Carefully she laid her paper on the table. She took her box of crayons from the drawer. She picked out a long brown crayon with a pointed tip. She drew a small brown spot.
“Emma, I’m going to the store,” said her mother. “I need to write my shopping list, and I can’t find a piece of paper. Have you seen any?”
Emma thought for a moment. “I can give you half of my piece,” she said.
She folded the paper and carefully tore it down the middle. She handed half to her mother.
“Thank you very much, dear,” said her mother. “I can write my list now.”
“You’re welcome,” said Emma.
She took her half of the paper and looked at the small brown spot. The paper was too small to draw an eagle.
“I can draw a robin,” she thought. “I’ll draw a robin with a bright orange chest and yellow claws. I’ll draw a nest beside him.”
Emma took a short orange crayon from her box. The crayon had no wrapper on it, and it felt smooth to her fingers. She made a small orange spot next to the small brown spot.
“Emma, Grandma is on the phone,” called her father. “I need to write a message. Do you know where I can find some paper?”
Emma looked at her piece of paper with the long torn edge. “You can have half of mine, Dad,” she said.
She folded the paper carefully and tore it down the middle. She handed half to her father.
“Thank you very much,” he said. “Now I won’t forget to take Grandma to the garage to get her car.”
“You’re welcome, Dad,” said Emma.
She looked at her paper. She looked at the small brown spot and the small orange spot. She looked at the two torn edges. The paper was too small to draw a robin.
“What can I draw now?” thought Emma. She liked to figure out things.
She got an idea. She took a black crayon out of the box. She drew long, curvy lines. Then she took a bright yellow crayon out of the box. She filled in all the black lines with the yellow crayon, being very careful to go around the small orange spot and the small brown spot. Then she was finished.
“There,” she thought. “I think that’s very pretty.”
She looked at her piece of paper. She looked at the torn edges. She looked at the curvy black lines and the bright yellow spaces inside.
She looked at the brown spot on one side and the orange spot on the other.
It wasn’t an eagle. It wasn’t a robin. But it was a beautiful butterfly.
By: Debra L.Cole
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