Lady of Narnia
Active member
Hi all! This is a short story that I wrote today, and I thought you guys might like to read it! Here goes!
......
A little girl skipped into the Painter's studio. Her brown curls bounced up and down excitedly as she opened the door and walked inside. What was the Painter working on today, she wondered? Probably something big. She hoped that she would be allowed to see it. Or better yet, perhaps he would let her see the plan for the painting, so she could see what it was going to look like when it was finished.
Closing the door softly behind her, she walked over to where the Painter sat, absorbed in his work. Tubes of paint lay neatly on a tray, and a pallet covered in the paint that he was using sat near his elbow. He held the paint brush in his hand, and with an expert hand, began to paint.
The little girl tip toed over and peeked over his shoulder; to see what he was doing. The Painter looked up from his work, and smiled when he saw her. She always came to see what he was painting.
"Sir," the child began, "what are you painting?"
"You will see, little one," he replied.
She peered carefully at the canvas. All she saw were a few strokes of blue paint, some green near the bottom, and a few dabs of gold and yellow paint here and there. She looked up at him, confused.
"All I see are a few dabs of paint here and there, Sir," she said.
The Painter chuckled.
"Sir, may I see the plan for the painting that you have?"
The Painter smiled and shook his head. "No, child, you must wait and see."
So the little gir went and sat down in a chair closeby to wait. Slowly, the painting began to appear; but it still did not look like much. So she folded her hands in her lap and tried to wait patiently. Soon, though, it was time for the little girl to go home for dinner. So she decided to come back the next day.
The next day, when she came she again asked to see the plan for the painting, and again, the Painter told her that she must wait. So she waited.
The next week, when the painting still was not finished, she asked, "Sir, please may I see the plan?"
The Painter only smiled and said, "My dear child, I cannot show you my plan."
"Why?" she asked.
"Come here."
The little girl walked over and he lifted her up onto his lap. "This painting will one day be complete and beautiful; it will be my masterpiece. If I showed you the plan now, you would know exactly how it was going to look, and you would not like it nearly as much. Would you rather wait, and then see it in its full beauty when it is through; or would you have me show you my plans, and have the wonder be all gone?"
The little girl sat thinking and looking at the unfinished painting. "I think, Sir; that I would much rather wait, although the waiting will be very hard."
The Painter smiled and set her back down on her feet.
Day after day the little girl visited the Painter, wondering if the painting was finished yet. But day after day, the Painter would shake his head and tell her, "Not yet."
Finally, though, one day, she skipped in and the Painter stood up and said, "I have completed my painting. Would you like to see it?"
"Yes Sir!" she cried. She walked over and looked at the finished painting. It was even more beautiful than she had ever imagined that it could have been. The splendor of it took her breath away. It was indeed a masterpiece.
"What do you think, my child?" the Painter asked.
"Sir, it's even lovelier than I thought it would be."
"Tell me, was it worth the wait?"
The little girl's eyes never moved from the painting. "Sir," she answered, "It was, very much, worth the wait." And she knew that if she had seen the plan before, she would never have loved the painting so much. When the Painter had told her to wait, she had not understood why he would not let her see. But now, she understood, and she loved the painting even more.
......
A little girl skipped into the Painter's studio. Her brown curls bounced up and down excitedly as she opened the door and walked inside. What was the Painter working on today, she wondered? Probably something big. She hoped that she would be allowed to see it. Or better yet, perhaps he would let her see the plan for the painting, so she could see what it was going to look like when it was finished.
Closing the door softly behind her, she walked over to where the Painter sat, absorbed in his work. Tubes of paint lay neatly on a tray, and a pallet covered in the paint that he was using sat near his elbow. He held the paint brush in his hand, and with an expert hand, began to paint.
The little girl tip toed over and peeked over his shoulder; to see what he was doing. The Painter looked up from his work, and smiled when he saw her. She always came to see what he was painting.
"Sir," the child began, "what are you painting?"
"You will see, little one," he replied.
She peered carefully at the canvas. All she saw were a few strokes of blue paint, some green near the bottom, and a few dabs of gold and yellow paint here and there. She looked up at him, confused.
"All I see are a few dabs of paint here and there, Sir," she said.
The Painter chuckled.
"Sir, may I see the plan for the painting that you have?"
The Painter smiled and shook his head. "No, child, you must wait and see."
So the little gir went and sat down in a chair closeby to wait. Slowly, the painting began to appear; but it still did not look like much. So she folded her hands in her lap and tried to wait patiently. Soon, though, it was time for the little girl to go home for dinner. So she decided to come back the next day.
The next day, when she came she again asked to see the plan for the painting, and again, the Painter told her that she must wait. So she waited.
The next week, when the painting still was not finished, she asked, "Sir, please may I see the plan?"
The Painter only smiled and said, "My dear child, I cannot show you my plan."
"Why?" she asked.
"Come here."
The little girl walked over and he lifted her up onto his lap. "This painting will one day be complete and beautiful; it will be my masterpiece. If I showed you the plan now, you would know exactly how it was going to look, and you would not like it nearly as much. Would you rather wait, and then see it in its full beauty when it is through; or would you have me show you my plans, and have the wonder be all gone?"
The little girl sat thinking and looking at the unfinished painting. "I think, Sir; that I would much rather wait, although the waiting will be very hard."
The Painter smiled and set her back down on her feet.
Day after day the little girl visited the Painter, wondering if the painting was finished yet. But day after day, the Painter would shake his head and tell her, "Not yet."
Finally, though, one day, she skipped in and the Painter stood up and said, "I have completed my painting. Would you like to see it?"
"Yes Sir!" she cried. She walked over and looked at the finished painting. It was even more beautiful than she had ever imagined that it could have been. The splendor of it took her breath away. It was indeed a masterpiece.
"What do you think, my child?" the Painter asked.
"Sir, it's even lovelier than I thought it would be."
"Tell me, was it worth the wait?"
The little girl's eyes never moved from the painting. "Sir," she answered, "It was, very much, worth the wait." And she knew that if she had seen the plan before, she would never have loved the painting so much. When the Painter had told her to wait, she had not understood why he would not let her see. But now, she understood, and she loved the painting even more.
d
