Things weren’t looking too good for the one-eyed goldfish. An impulse purchase at a long-forgotten fair, the stuffed fish had languished on a dusty shelf for years. He’d lost one of his black button eyes in an also-forgotten and probably dog-related incident, which didn’t increase his prospects of becoming a beloved plaything. And yet there’s hope even for an object this forlorn.
I needed a small stuffed animal for a name game I was planning to play with my French class for kids, so the goldfish accompanied me to school. Although the French class was indifferent, some of the kids from my Monday Poetry and Pictures class (almost all boys, surprisingly enough) fell in love with him and adopted him as their new plaything. They quickly dubbed the goldfish “Mr. Squitty” and tried to employ him as a football. (Being loved by small boys is a dubious honor…) Since we were in a classroom, that couldn’t last long, but they still clamored for Mr. Squitty at the next class even though his second eye hadn’t survived much longer after he became the object of their affection.
Sage, however, has caught on to the competition for one of his toys (however neglected), so he’s taken over as Mr. Squitty’s caretaker. Our next project will probably be eye surgery…
The moral of the story is this: If there’s hope for a stuffed goldfish with one eye, by golly, there’s hope for us all.