by Vivian Dubrovin

I know a secret. It's about magic. Real magic! It's all inside this little box. But, let me start at the beginning and tell you how I got this box. I was walking to school one day. Well, not really walking. I was playing Kick the Stone and trying to make the trip take a long time. I didn't want to go to school that day. I kicked the stone over three sidewalk squares and just over the last crack. As I kicked, I thought about school. I know I didn't say it out loud, but I was thinking, "I wish I didn't have to go to school today." I had planned to send the stone sailing down the whole block. But I missed it with my toe and caught it on the side of my shoe. It skidded to the side and slid under a bush.

Well, now! It's bad luck to have a stone land on a crack, but it's disastrous to lose your stone. So I got down on my hands and knees to reach under the bush. That's when I saw him. Sitting on my stone! The teeniest, tiniest, little man. He was dressed all in green and looked like one of those leprechauns on a Saint Patrick's Day card. He had a miniature shoe in one hand and an itsy bitsy hammer in the other. "Who are you?" I gasped. "I could be askin' the same of you," he replied. "I'm Billy O'Neil," I said, "but..." "Why am I here?" He hammered away and then looked up at me. "I heard you make a wish, I did. I grant wishes. Do you want me to grant your wish?"

The way he said it made me think he was warning me not to say yes. "What's so terrible about school?" he asked. I sat down on the grass and shook my head. "It's not gonna be a good day," I said. "We have to draw a people picture in art. I can make designs, but I can't draw people. And then there's basketball tryouts. I'm always chosen last for every team." I took a deep breath. "And to top it off, we have a math test this afternoon." "Is it three wishes you want?" he asked. I sighed. "No," I said. In my mind, I added three wishes to the one I'd already made and that came to four. Now I knew from reading that a leprechaun can grant up to three wishes, but if you ask for four, he'll play bad tricks on you. I sighed again. "I just want everything to go okay." "Then this is what you'll be needing," he said, and held out his hand to me. In it was this tiny little box.

"It's magic. Hold it in your hand. Say the magic words, and never open it." I waited for him to say something like abracadabra or schazam or something like that, but all he said was, "Repeat these words: I can do that. I know I can. It's easy." I was disappointed and didn't believe him. So I didn't move or say anything. "Come on, come on, now," he growled impatiently. I gave a huge, gigantic sigh. "Okay!" I mumbled the magic words. "I can do that! I know I can! It's easy." I didn't expect anything to happen, but a warm wave began in my chest and surged through me. "Yeah!" I yelled and jumped to my feet. "I can do it! Yeah! Thanks!" I ran to school then. I knew everything would be okay now. I could feel it.

As I ran, I hoped I had said thanks. You must thank a leprechaun or he might take back the wish. As soon as I got to my seat, I grabbed some paper and a pencil out of my desk and began sketching this little leprechaun. If only I'd had a camera. I tried to draw the little guy in different poses as if I was holding a camera. I didn't want to forget what he looked like. By the time art class was over, I had seven sketches of the leprechaun. My art teacher thought they were great.

In the locker room, I changed my clothes. The magic box was so small, I could put it into the pocket of my gym clothes. I stuck my hand into my pocket and said the magic words. Once again, I felt a lot better. I walked into the gym. My best friend threw a basketball to me. I dribbled it around the floor. "Throw, it! Throw it!" he yelled. So I threw it. It landed in the basket clear across the gym. Everyone stopped and stared. I looked at my friend. "You said throw it." "To me," he replied. "What a throw!" I was chosen for the first team.

But I still had to get through the math test. I kept my hand on the little box all through lunch. I kept my hand on the box as I walked into the classroom. I held the box as I picked up the test. There were five story problems. I hate story problems! Numbers, I can do... addition, subtraction, multiplication, fractions, equations. But I hate story problems. With my hand still on the box, I mumbled the magic words. Okay, I would try the first problem. I kept my hand on the box the whole time. I worked three problems. In the middle of the fourth one, my teacher tapped my shoulder. "Billy, what do you have in your pocket?" I looked up. The expression on her face told me she thought I was cheating. "Nothing," I said. But she knew I was lying. "Let's see," she demanded. I placed the magic box on my desk. "What's this?" she asked. Before I could say anything, she opened it. "Oh, it's empty. I'm sorry, Billy. I should have known you wouldn't cheat on a test." She handed the box back to me. I left the box on my desk and stared at it. Empty! How could that be? The magic box had worked in art and gym. I didn't finish the test. I knew I couldn't do that last problem now that the box was empty.

I walked home slowly. As I passed the bush, I wondered if the stone was still there. I got down on my hands and knees. It was there and so was the little green leprechaun. I reached in my pocket, grabbed the box, and threw it at him. "It's empty!" I almost cried. "Empty. Oh, no, no, no!" he exclaimed. "What makes you think it's empty?" So I sat down and told him what happened in math class. "Oh," he said, knowingly. "Because you can't see anything in the box, you're assuming that it's empty." He chuckled. "There's many a thing you can't see, lad." He paused. "Love, courage, responsibility, or leadership. Can you see those things?" I shook my head. "But you could put any one of those into this box the same as you put self-confidence into it this morning." "Self-confidence?" I mumbled. He opened the box and held it out to me. "Real magic," he said, "is more powerful than any hocus-pocus pretend magic. Fill the box again." Softly, confidently, I said, "I can do that! I know I can! That's easy!" He snapped the box closed and gave it back to me. The warm feeling returned.

I jumped up. "Yeah!" I yelled. "I can do it!" I started toward home, but instead ran in a circle back to the bush. "Thanks!" I said loudly, just to be sure. And then I ran home. Every morning I fill the little box. And whenever I need it, I say the magic words.

Vivian Dubrovin, Editor Junior Storyteller activity guide The Kids' Storytelling Club website Co-Chair The Youth Storytelling Special Interest Groupof the National Storytelling Network.

Reprinted with permission Copyright 1997 Vivian Dubrovin Storytelling Adventures: Stories Kids Can Tell, Storycraft Publishing, 1997 ISBN # 0-9638339-2-8. This book is a Storytelling World honor book and a Pegasus Award Winner Storycraft Publishing P.O. Box 205 Masonville, CO 80541 970-669-3755 (phone & FAX) vivdub@aol.com

To be used with a paper box craft.

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