The Show
Children's Story
It was nearly the week of the show and Christopher's heart was beating very fast. It was beating fast because he was feeling very anxious. Christopher's friend Rex spent a lot of time on his father's allotment and was always coming into school boasting about how big his carrots were, or how tall for his corn had grown, or how beautiful his sweet peas smelt.
Christopher had got fed up with it, and in a moment of intense irritation had shouted at his friend that it was no big deal, anyone could grow things. That had stopped Rex in his tracks, but it was clear he hadn't believed Christopher and he looked rather hurt. So Christopher had tried to to justify his statement.
"I grow things in my garden all the time," Christopher had said airily.
"I've never seen anything," muttered Rex. "How come you've never mentioned it before?"
Christopher shrugged. "No point," he said. "Anyway," he added a little nastily, "you mention it enough for both of us."
Rex wouldn't give it up. He worried at it all like a dog with a bone. "Let's see it then," he challenged. "Let's see all these wonderful things you've grown in your garden."
"You can't," Christopher said crossly.
"Because you haven't got anything," Rex crowed triumphantly.
"Have so!" said Christopher.
"Haven't!" taunted Rex. Then an idea struck Rex. "there's the show coming up," he told Christopher. "Why don't you enter it? You can enter anything you like - vegetables or flowers."
Christopher was stuck. If he refused to enter the show, Rex would know he'd never grown anything in his life. So he shrugged again and when Rex pressed him, said, "I grow flowers. I'll enter the flower show."
Rex laughed. "That just shows how much you know about gardening! You don't just enter flowers. You enter roses or daisies or flowers grown from seed or flowers grown in a pot or hanging baskets or - "
" - OK, OK, I get the picture," broke in Christopher. Then he added, "flowers grown from seed, that's my specialty."
That had been some months ago. Rex had filled in the the entry form without even telling Christopher, and had only told him about it after the entry had been sent in. Christopher knew he had to pull something good out of the hat if he wasn't to be the laughing stock of the entire school.
He'd asked his grandpa for some help, since his Grandad was a good gardener. Together they'd chosen some suitable seeds, prepared a seed tray with the right kind of soil, and sown the seeds. Christopher had worked hard after that, and had become quite interested in what he was doing. He made sure the seeds were properly watered, and he watched the weather every day to see when it would be suitable to put the tray outside.
He prayed too, asking God that he might have a few reasonable flowers from his efforts. But progress seemed very slow. The seeds took weeks to germinate, and a couple of weeks before the show there were only a few straggly green wisps to be seen. Christopher felt very depressed, even when his Grandad told him not to worry.
It did get better just before the show, for the few straggly green wisps became stronger and more numerous and were beginning to look quite sturdy. But there wasn't a single flower to be seen.
"Please, God," Christopher prayed. "Just one or two flowers, just so that I can go in for the show."
But the night before the show nothing had happened. On the day of the show, Christopher was almost too depressed to get out of bed. He dressed slowly, putting off the moment when he would have to look at his pathetic attempts at gardening. Eventually he went down to the shed to peer at his seed tray and to see whether God had heard his prayer.
He hoped there might be one or two flowers. But there weren't one or two flowers. The whole tray was a riot of colour, pinks and blues and purples and yellows and whites. Christopher's prayer had not only been answered, but answered overwhelmingly.
Proudly he picked up his seed tray to take it to the show. He didn't really care whether or not he won, he was just delighted to be able to enter. "Thank you, God," he whispered.
Christopher had got fed up with it, and in a moment of intense irritation had shouted at his friend that it was no big deal, anyone could grow things. That had stopped Rex in his tracks, but it was clear he hadn't believed Christopher and he looked rather hurt. So Christopher had tried to to justify his statement.
"I grow things in my garden all the time," Christopher had said airily.
"I've never seen anything," muttered Rex. "How come you've never mentioned it before?"
Christopher shrugged. "No point," he said. "Anyway," he added a little nastily, "you mention it enough for both of us."
Rex wouldn't give it up. He worried at it all like a dog with a bone. "Let's see it then," he challenged. "Let's see all these wonderful things you've grown in your garden."
"You can't," Christopher said crossly.
"Because you haven't got anything," Rex crowed triumphantly.
"Have so!" said Christopher.
"Haven't!" taunted Rex. Then an idea struck Rex. "there's the show coming up," he told Christopher. "Why don't you enter it? You can enter anything you like - vegetables or flowers."
Christopher was stuck. If he refused to enter the show, Rex would know he'd never grown anything in his life. So he shrugged again and when Rex pressed him, said, "I grow flowers. I'll enter the flower show."
Rex laughed. "That just shows how much you know about gardening! You don't just enter flowers. You enter roses or daisies or flowers grown from seed or flowers grown in a pot or hanging baskets or - "
" - OK, OK, I get the picture," broke in Christopher. Then he added, "flowers grown from seed, that's my specialty."
That had been some months ago. Rex had filled in the the entry form without even telling Christopher, and had only told him about it after the entry had been sent in. Christopher knew he had to pull something good out of the hat if he wasn't to be the laughing stock of the entire school.
He'd asked his grandpa for some help, since his Grandad was a good gardener. Together they'd chosen some suitable seeds, prepared a seed tray with the right kind of soil, and sown the seeds. Christopher had worked hard after that, and had become quite interested in what he was doing. He made sure the seeds were properly watered, and he watched the weather every day to see when it would be suitable to put the tray outside.
He prayed too, asking God that he might have a few reasonable flowers from his efforts. But progress seemed very slow. The seeds took weeks to germinate, and a couple of weeks before the show there were only a few straggly green wisps to be seen. Christopher felt very depressed, even when his Grandad told him not to worry.
It did get better just before the show, for the few straggly green wisps became stronger and more numerous and were beginning to look quite sturdy. But there wasn't a single flower to be seen.
"Please, God," Christopher prayed. "Just one or two flowers, just so that I can go in for the show."
But the night before the show nothing had happened. On the day of the show, Christopher was almost too depressed to get out of bed. He dressed slowly, putting off the moment when he would have to look at his pathetic attempts at gardening. Eventually he went down to the shed to peer at his seed tray and to see whether God had heard his prayer.
He hoped there might be one or two flowers. But there weren't one or two flowers. The whole tray was a riot of colour, pinks and blues and purples and yellows and whites. Christopher's prayer had not only been answered, but answered overwhelmingly.
Proudly he picked up his seed tray to take it to the show. He didn't really care whether or not he won, he was just delighted to be able to enter. "Thank you, God," he whispered.
