There was a boy once small, timid and shy. The boy was alone, he had no friends, yet the little boy felt as though the whole world was within his circle. For the boy had his toys, a plane made of plastic and metal with parts that hung; a dog, spotted in black and with beady eyes, it made sounds as though filled with beans.
Many more toys filled the jute sack, he always dug and dug till he found the right mate to play with for that day, one day a druid making pastes out of leaves from the tree that stood where he played and on other days he played with disks and tops that spun.
Among these trinkets was a toy truck, it had red wheels that spun round and round as the boy raced it across his home, making sounds that echoed around the empty hallway. Its white head hit the walls and yet nothing put a mark on the well-built truck, its strong trunk sprung up shooting whatever the boy put in there. Like an ugly troll it stood strong and undefeated.
The boy was a curious lad, he broke open toys to see how they worked, the gears, the wires, the plush, the beads, all of which interested him very much. Once he was done closely examining the toy he would carefully place what may be the toys’ parts all together and rebuild it bit by bit, he never got it all right but he did his best and fix it the best he could, for he loved the toys he had, and also loved the way they worked.
This red-wheeled troll, however, posed a difficult task for the boy, for the truck was made with the greatest of precision. He pulled and slammed and screwed and threw and dropped the truck, yet the truck would not show how it worked, like a troll that stood strong even through a barrage of abuse.
Over the years the toys met their fates: some given off, some that finally gave in and wouldn’t move and some that just went away on their own, a mystery to the boy. Yet through the seasons the red-wheeled truck stayed, as strong and rugged as the day it was made. The boy’s mother was smart and hid the toy away, for she knew it was special and it had a bond with the boy unlike any other.
Years went by as the red-wheeled truck stayed in its place collecting dust and cobwebs, yet the red-wheeled truck had done its job well, its ruggedness paid off, it’s resilience paid off, its stubbornness to not break down paid off, because, like the hard-hearted red-wheeled truck, the boy stood strong through sorrow and spring, he had become strong in heart and soul, just like his little red wheeled troll.
Raahul Reddy, B. Des. Animation and Motion Graphics Sem. III, Unitedworld Institute of Design (UID)
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