my space

                                                       The Painter

The little boy sighed. 

He tried so hard to colour inside the lines but no matter how he tried there was always some colour outside the drawing. Last week his teacher had scolded him and said sternly, " Why are you so messy and dirty? You can NEVER be an artist" His face had burned with shame as his eyes had darted fearfully all over his drawing book.

He was determined to do a good job this time. It was Naani`s birthday and  he had asked his mother to draw a big flower for him. He wanted to colour it in  shades of red and pink , just like those flowers that bloomed in Naani`s garden. But the colour., as usual, had spilled out. 

He still wanted to give it to Naani so in the evening when his mother told him that they would go to see Naani, he quickly folded the paper and slipped it in his pocket. Naani was sitting out in the garden and he ran upto her.

 "Naani," he panted as he handed her the drawing, " for you. Happy Birthday !"

Naani unfolded the paper and gasped. "Such a beautiful flower ! The  prettiest I have ever seen in my life! You are going to be a great painter" She traced the little blobs of paint scattered on the paper and hugged the little boy.

The little boy beamed with pleasure. He would become a painter!

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