Fw: The Wemmicks
- Hello all,
For a change,I am attaching a beatiful story, forwarded to me by someone,
which reveals the human bigotary on smartness , greatness and
Subject: The Wemmicks
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. Some others knew big words or could sing very pretty
songs. Everyone gave them stars. 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 got dots.
Punchinello was one of these. He tried to jump high like the
others, but he always fell. And when he fell, the others would gather
around and give him dots. Sometimes when he fell, it would scar his
wood, so the people would give him more dots. He would try to
explain why he fell and say something silly, and the Wemmicks would
give him more dots. 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."
After a while Punchinello believed them. "I'm not a good
wemmick," he would say. The few times he went outside, he hung
around other Wemmicks who had a lot of dots. He felt better around
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.
'That's the way I want to be', thought Punchinello. 'I don't
want anyone's marks.' So he asked the stickerless Wemmick how she did
"It's easy," Lulia replied. "Every day I go see Eli."
"Yes, Eli. The woodcarver. I sit in the workshop with him."
"Why don't you find out for yourself? Go up the hill. He's
And with that the Wemmick with no marks turned and skipped
away. "But he won't want to see me!" Punchinello cried out. Lulia didn't
So Punchinello went home . He sat near a window and
watched the wooden people as they scurried around giving each other
stars and dots.
"It's not right," he muttered to himself. And he resolved to go
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 leave.
Then he heard his name. "Punchinello?" The voice was deep and
strong. Punchinello stopped.
"Punchinello! How good to see you. Come and let me have a look
Punchinello turned slowly and looked at the large bearded
"You know my name?" the little Wemmick asked.
"Of course I do. I made you." Eli stooped down and picked him up
and set him on the bench. "Hmm," the maker spoke thoughtfully as he
inspected the grey circles.
"Looks like you've been given some bad marks."
"I didn't mean to, Eli. I really tried hard."
"Oh, you don't have to defend yourself to me, child. I don't
care what the other Wemmicks think.
"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
Punchinello laughed. "Me, special? Why? I can't walk fast. I
can't jump. My paint is peeling. Why do I matter to you?"
Eli looked at Punchinello, put his hands on those small wooden
shoulders,and spoke very slowly. "Because you're mine. That's why you
matter to me."
Punchinello had never had anyone look at him like this -- much
less his maker. He didn't know what to say.
"Every day I've been hoping you'd come," Eli explained.
"I came because I met someone who had no marks."
"I know. She told me about you."
"Why don't the stickers stay on her?"
"Because she has decided that what I think is more important
than what they think. The stickers only stick if you let them."
"The stickers only stick if they matter to you. The more you
trust my love, the less you care about the stickers."
"I'm not sure I understand."
"You will, but it will take time. You've got a lot of marks
. For now, just come to see me every day and let me remind you how much
Eli lifted Punchinello off the bench and set him on
the ground. "Remember," Eli said as the Wemmick walked out the door.
"You are special because I made you. And I don't make
Punchinello didn't stop, but in his heart he thought, "I think
he really means it." And when he did, a dot fell to the ground.
Think about it... we judge others by our standards and others
judge us by theirs, but at the end of the day we are all fellow
Wemmicks ... er .... 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!!!!
Two men , saw thro' the prison bars,
One saw Mud,the other, Stars.
- Dear Mr. V. Thomas
What a great story and a great blessing you shared with us.
God BlessYou and Thanks.
Thomas Daniel (Reji)
--- In SOCM-FORUM@y..., "V Thomas" <vthomas@t...> wrote:
> Hello all,
> For a change,I am attaching a beatiful story, forwarded to me by
> which reveals the human bigotary on smartness , greatness and
> perhaps----um,sainthood !!
> Subject: The Wemmicks
> The Wemmicks
> The Wemmicks were small wooden people. Each of the wooden people
> was carved by a woodworker named Eli. His workshop sat on a