One little girl sits a little apart from several large groups, quiet and intent on her work. Her golden hair swarms her face, veiling her big blue eyes which glimmer with anticipation as her project nears its close. She rubs her nose and subsequently dirties it with glitter as she glances about the room to see what the other children are doing. The smile growing on her face disappears as her eyes take in all of the other projects but she shudders and goes back to her own work without taking much time to closely examine.
Just a few moments later she tweaks a feather, pinches a bit of glitter and nods in satisfaction. She leaps out of her seat and brandishes her wings over her head, squealing with glee at having finished. A few children turn to blankly stare at her and her clumsy wings as a piece of cardboard and a few feathers fall off of it, but for the most part she is paid no heed. The little girl doesn�t mind. She is eager to try them out. She shuffles outside slowly, behind a group of children whom have also just finished their wings and are ready to test them out. At first her face is bright, but it pales as she examines the bigger, sturdier quality of all the other children�s wings. She noticed this clever device, and that wonderful artistic flourish. Why hadn�t she thought of these things? All the wings seemed bigger and more glorious than hers. But there was still a test in flight� Perhaps all the glamour would mean nothing?
She got outside and scrambled up a green hill from whence she would launch herself. She fitted her clumsy white wings across her back with rubber band straps, and trotted to a good place for launching. She was between several of the other children she had walked out with. Big and bright wings shimmering on their back. She looked away in shame, knowing how sorry hers were. One big child shouts that they should all launch off at the same time. He would count backwards from 5. The other children exclaimed and gestured vigorously in agreement. The blue eyed girl nodded timidly her own assent. When all were ready, the count down began� 5�4�3�2�1� and they jumped� Amid a flapping of wings and flying of feathers, the children were off to soar. Some only crashed, yet some flew high high up in the air through the blue and the clouds. Those children would probably never come back. Our little girl faltered unsteadily and barely kept in the air. She finally crashed to the ground from whence she stared up wistfully at the children she had launched off the hill with. The ones with more beautiful wings devised in wiser, cleverer manners. Then she closed her eyes and felt the wind stir her hair and the longing for the sky came upon her again. She opened her eyes and gazed at all the other children dotting the horizon. Could she ever be that good? Could she ever fly like that? Was she smart enough? Wise enough? Clever enough? Would her wings be as beautiful as she should like them to be?
She blinked back hot tears as she trudged back to the classroom. Another set of wings had failed. She plopped into the same chair she had occupied before, slightly set apart from everyone else. She set to picking apart her too elaborate tangle of string and paper and cardboard and paste and feathers, to start all over again.