The Wemmicks were a small wooden people, carved by a carpenter named Eli.
His shop was on top of a hill that gave the village.
Each Wemmick was different: some had a big nose, others had big eyes, someone was tall and someone was short. Someone wore the hat, someone else wore the coat but they were all made by the same sculptor and everyone lived in the village.
Throughout the day, every day, the Wemmicks did the same thing — stickers attached to each other. Each Wemmick had a box of golden stars and a box of gray dots.
Up and down the streets of the city, the Wemmicks spent their time attacking the stars or balls with each other.
The beautiful ones, of smooth wood and well painted, always received stars, but, if someone's wood was rough or the color fell off, the Wemmicks gave him gray dots.
Talented ones also received stars. Someone could lift heavy woods over their heads or jump big boxes. Still others knew long words or could sing beautiful songs. To these, everyone gave stars.
There was literally some covered in stars! These Wemmicks, every time they took a star, they were happy. So they wanted to do something else and take another star.
Others, however, knew little. And they took balls.
Chicken was one of them.
He tried to jump up like the others, but he always fell, and when he fell, the others surrounded him and gave him little balls. Sometimes, when he fell, the wood was scratched and so people gave him more bullets.
Then, when he was trying to explain why he fell, he said something silly, and the Wemmicks were still attacking him with bullets.
After a while he had so many balls that he no longer wanted to go out. He was afraid to do something silly, like forget his hat or put a foot in the water, because then people would give him more bullets. In fact, he had so many grey balls that sometimes someone glued one to him for no particular reason.
<< He deserves a lot of bullets, said wood people.
<< He's not a good wood person.
After a while Pulcinello began to believe it.
<< I'm not a good Wemmick, he said.
The few times she went out she was with Wemmicks who had a lot of bullets. He felt comfortable with them.
One day Pulcinello met a Wemmick different from the others: She didn't have stars or bullets, she was just made of wood. Her name was Lucia. Not that people didn't try to stick stick stickers on her, but the stickers didn't stick on her. Some Wemmmick appreciated the fact that Lucia didn't have any balls, so she ran to give her a star but this fell down!
Others disapproved of it because it had no stars, so they gave it a ball, but it also detached!
That's how I want to be, Pulcinello thought: I don't want anybody's grades, so he went to Wemmmick without stickers how to do that.
<< It's simple, replied Lucia. Every day I visit Eli.
Eli? >>.
Yes, Eli. The sculptor, I sit in the shop with him! >>.
Why? >>.
<< Why don't you find out for yourself? Go up the hill. He is there, said Wemmmick without stickers, then he turned around and left.
<< But he wants to see me? He cried Pulcinello – but Lucia did not hear him. So Pulcinello went home, sat at the window and stood looking at the wood people all busy giving themselves stars and bullets to one another.
<< It's not fair, he grumbled. And he decided to go see Eli.
Pulcinello walked along the narrow path that led to the top of the hill and entered the big workshop, he scratched his wooden eyes for the dimensions of the things he saw. The stool was as tall as he was! To see the work plan, he had to get up on his toe. A hammer was as long as his arm.
Pulcinello hardly swallowed.
<< I'm not staying here! He said, and turned to leave.
Then he heard his name.
Is it Pulcine? >>. The voice was deep and strong. Pulcinello stopped.
- Chicken! Good to see you. Come and have a look at it.
Pulcinello turned slowly and looked at the big bearded craftsman.
Do you know my name? >>, asked little Wemmick.
<< Of course I know him. I made you.
Eli stooped, took him, and laid him on the bench.
"Hmm," he thought, "seeing the gray balls.
It looks like you got some bad grades.
<< I didn't mean to, Eli. I did the best I could.
<< Oh, you don't have to justify yourself to me, son. I don’t care what the other Wemmicks think.
Oh, yeah? >>.
<< And neither should you. Who are they, to give stars or bullets? I'm just Wemmicks, like you. What they think doesn't matter, Chicken. It only matters what I think. And I think you're really special.
Chicken laughed.
Special, me? Why? I can't walk fast. I can't jump. My painting's off. Why would you care about me? >>.
Eli looked at Pulcinello, laid his hands on his small wooden shoulders and spoke slowly.
<< Because you're mine. That’s why I care about you.
No one had ever looked at Chicken like that and he didn't know what to say.
<< Every day I hoped that you would come, Eli explained.
<< I came because I met someone with no stickers, said Pullinello.
<< I know. He told me about you.
<>.
Eli spoke quietly.
<< Because he decided that what I think is more important than what others think. The stickers only stick if you allow it to happen.
What? >>.
<< The stickers stick only if they want to say something to you. The more confident you will be of my love, the less you care about their stickers.
<< I'm not sure I understand.
Eli smiled. You will understand, but it will take some time. You have a lot of stickers attached. For now, visit me every day and remember how important you are to me.
Then Eli lifted Pulcinello off the counter and laid him down.
"Remember," said Eli, "as Wemmmick came out the door, "you are special because I made you." And I don't make mistakes.
Pulcinello did not stop, but inside he thought:
I think he's serious.
And at that moment the first ball fell on the ground.
(You are special to Max Lucado)
