The Wemmicks were small wooden people. Each of the wooden people was carved by a woodworker named Eli. His workshop sat on a hill overlooking their village.
Every Wemmick was different. Some had big noses, others had large eyes. Some were tall and others were short. Some wore hats, others wore coats. But all were made by the same carver and all lived in the village.
And all day, every day, the Wemmicks did the same thing : They gave each other stickers. Each Wemmick had a box of golden star stickers and a box of gray dot stickers. Up and down the streets all over the city, people could be seen sticking stars or dots on one another.
The pretty ones, those with smooth wood and fine paint, always got stars.
But if the wood was rough or the paint chipped, the Wemmicks
gave dots. The talented ones got stars, too.. Some could lift big
sticks high above their heads or jump over tall boxes. Still others
knew big words or
Some Wemmicks had stars all over them!
Every time they got a star it made them feel so good that they did something
else and got another star. Others, though, could do little. They
After a while he had so many dots that he didn't want to go outside. He was afraid he would do something dumb such as forget his hat or step in the water, and then people would give him another dot. In fact, he had so many gray dots that some people would come up and give him one without reason.
"He deserves lots of dots," the wooden people
would agree with one another. "He's not a
good wooden person."
One day he met a Wemmick who was unlike
any he'd ever met. She had no dots or stars. She was just
wooden. Her name was Lulia. It wasn't
that people didn't try to give her stickers; it's just that the stickers
didn't stick. Some admired Lulia for having no dots, so they would
run up and give her a star. But it would fall off. Some would
look down on her for having no stars, so they would give her a dot. But
it wouldn't stay either.
"It's easy," Lulia replied. "every
day I go see Eli."
He walked up the narrow path to the top of the hill and stepped into the big shop. His wooden eyes widened at the size of everything. The stool was as tall as he was. He had to stretch on his tiptoes to see the top of the workbench. A hammer was as long as his arm. Punchinello swallowed hard.
"I'm not staying here!" and he turned to
"You don't?" "No, and you shouldn't either. Who are they to give stars or dots? They're Wemmicks just like you. What they think doesn't matter, Punchinello. All that matters is what I think. And I think you are pretty special.."
And when he did, a dot fell to the ground.
Humans, perfect and imperfect in our own little ways which makes each one unique... special... and for those of us who believe, don't you agree that the opinion of our Maker is most important?
Be glad and thankful for what one has and live life to the fullest and don't spend too much time worrying about the "stars and dots" and don't waste time giving out "dots" either !!!!
"Nothing you can do, to make Him love you more,