Samuel rolled the idea around in his head. He ran through the possible outcomes; none of them proved satisfactory. In fact, he had been thinking about this for most of the morning and was not able to come to a decisive conclusion.
He decided it was time to go to his mom on this. She always knew the
answers… and his dad was at work.
“Mom?” Samuel said as he entered the kitchen. An electrical plug hung off
the counter. He picked it up and wondered to what it belonged. It was a much
thicker cord than most of the plugs his parents used for their electronics, the
ones they reminded him were not to play with. Samuel put the plug in the palm
of his hand to gauge its weight. He wondered if it was heavy enough to break
open a walnut with this plug; he bet it was. He pulled the cord to reach the
bowl that his mom kept the walnuts in. The cord stopped short.
Samuel tugged it harder. The large mixer toppled over and brought three
containers sitting next to it over as well. Flour and sugar spilled out onto
the counter’s wood surface.
“SAM! What are you doing?!” His mom said turning abruptly from her
suds-filled sink. A large clump of soap bubbles fell from her hand onto the
She righted the mixer and replaced the containers as well. Looking at the
flour/sugar mess, she let out a long sigh. Grandma called those her “Samuel
“I wanted to crack open a walnut,” Samuel said.
“I could have cracked a walnut open for you. Why did you knock the mixer
over? What were you thinking?” His mom asked.
He had been thinking the plug was heavy enough to crack open the walnut; he
wasn’t exactly sure how the mixer got knocked over. He opened his mouth to
answer but his mom was mumbling to herself about having to do chores twice.
Samuel apologized and walked out of the room. He knew his mom would forgive
him, she always did.
But then he remembered the wish. This really was kind of important so he
ventured back into the kitchen. “Mom?”
She sounded a little frustrated, which Samuel could not understand because he
hadn’t even asked her anything yet.
His mom stopped wiping. “Yes, Sam?”
“Where does a wish go after you make it?” He asked.
She turned to look at him, “What do you mean, where does it go?”
“After you make a wish, where does that wish go?”
“Uhm, to God. It goes to God.” She said, resuming her wiping up.
Samuel thought for a moment. “Don’t prayers go to God?”
“Then how is a wish different from a prayer?”
“Because… a prayer is for bigger things, like making someone who is sick get
better. And a wish is for small things… like Legos.” She was digging at a
dried piece of jelly that had been on the counter since lunch yesterday.
“So, Grandma told you she prayed for Mrs. Roberts’ roses to wilt after the
‘pound cake’ incident, but she told me she wished for Grandpa’s
arthritis not to hurt so much. Does that mean wilting roses are bigger then
Grandpa’s pain?” This wish thing was getting quite complex.
“No, it just means Grandma is petty,” his mom said.
“So…” Samuel started again.
“Wishes have been around since the dawn of time. You make them, then they go
where they need to and those people grant them.”
No one had ever mentioned Wish Granters before. His mom always imparted this
kind of information in pieces. Wish Granters were going to add another level;
Samuel was getting excited.
“So… “ Samuel started again.
“Sam… “ His mom said.
Her tone meant she was going to tell him to think about this on his own for a
while so Samuel went into his room and pulled out his trusty notebook and
crayons. First he drew a wish; then he drew the Wish Granters. He drew the
Wish Granters with furry boots because he thought that they probably needed warm
feet. He gave them beards because they would need to know a lot of things to
grant a wish.
Maybe they knew everything in the whole dictionary, like they didn’t even
have to look up a word when someone said, “what does that mean?” He drew a line
from the wish to the Wish Granters. Samuel looked at his diagram. He felt the
chart was a little dry so he went to the art closet and got the felt pens;
things of this weight needed felt pens. He redrew the wish, a simple gold star.
He assumed the line was probably dotted; so he dotted the line. He used a
different color for each dot. He gave the Wish Granters some nice robes to go
with their furry boots.
In this version of the Wish Diagram, the wish didn‘t look right; a star was
really cool but it wasn’t a wish. Samuel turned the page and began redrawing
the wish. He used every color he had that looked like it would be in a wish.
He made a series of ovals but added some whirlwind marks because he guessed
wishes must have an element of chaos to them. He added a circle of stars to the
outer layer of the wish; he was getting ahead of himself because the stars
represented when the wishes were released to the Wish Granters but it was a
necessary step so he included it. He needed some glitter now, but this was a
He stood to take his wish to his mother but upon turning, saw it wasn’t
necessary; she was in the doorway.
“Sam, I asked you to clean your room, what have you been doing?” She
Samuel turned the notebook for his mom to see. “I drew a wish. I almost
have the Wish Granters done too. I think the wind that takes a wish to the Wish
Granters probably looks like the way that French guy painted it.”
His mom nodded, “You mean that Dutch guy…he only painted in France.
Okay, Sam. Please clean your room first.”
Samuel picked up a pair of socks. His mom glanced at his notebook as she
turned to leave.
“Sam,” his mom said. “That is a beautiful wish,” and she smiled at him in
the way he liked best.