Friday, August 29, 2008

The shiny red biplane.

Once upon a time, there was a little boy who walked to school every morning.

Every morning without fail he walked by the big toyshop on the big, main road on his way to school. There was this big, red, toy biplane, sitting proudly right in the window of the toyshop, and it caught that young boy's attention every single day.

That young boy who walked to school every single day was fond of all kinds of aircraft, as he always dreamed of flying high in the sky, carrying out top-secret fighter missions, just like the stories of the old war dad always him about.

The shiny red biplane.

He always dreamed of going on top-secret missions in that red airplane - getting into the seat of the biplane, putting on big, heavy goggles, and blasting off into the air, feeling the rush of cold air in his face.

He wanted that biplane, bad.

He slowly saved up any surplus of the pocket money his mother gave him just so that he could afford to make that beautiful red biplane his. He only ate bananas and nothing else during recess because they were the cheapest thing possible. He stayed away from the cinema and the ice cream parlour. He was determined to make that airplane his, and nothing was going to stand in his way.

Bit by bit, the boy saved up for that big, shiny biplane sitting in the toystore's window. And his persistence finally paid off just two days short of that boy's birthday. He finally had enough to buy the big biplane of his dreams.

He walked to the toystore the following morning just brimming with excitement. His determination in tightening his belt had finally paid off, he thought. Putting off all that fun just seemed justified. He could already feel the smooth, cold metal of the biplane in his hands, he could feel just how solid the fuselage felt, and how fluid the propeller spun.

But when he walked by the window of that toystore he walked by every morning, without fail, his heart sank. At that very exact moment he could see a big, well dressed grown man lifting his plane off it's place on the window and towards the counter. He wanted to run crying to the man, begging him not to take what was rightfully his away from him, but his heart sank so low that his legs were firmly rooted to the ground. All that he could do was watch the man pay for the airplane in utter horror.

His eyes were transfixed on the scene, and he couldn't take his eyes off that big, grown-up as he walked out of the store and away from him. Eyes glued onto the big man, the little boy prayed with all his heart that that well dressed grown up would somehow just magically be an angel, and come running back, gently pressing the big package that contained the airplane into his very small hands.

The man never did, and that little boy watched the man walk away from him, around the corner, and into the hustle and bustle of the city.

And it was then when the little boy realised - sometime's life may seem unfair, and you may be unlucky, but a true man is never weak - and being someone that could put in so much effort into saving all that money, despite him being such a little boy, he was anything but weak.

The little boy clenched hard at the money in his right wrist, and wiped his moist eyes with his left cuff, and continued on his way to school. But he knew he wasn't the same little boy any more, this time, he knew that he was destined for great things for he knew how to keep his head up high, and to carry on, even when the fates dealt him his worst hand.

Carry on! Carry on!
Things never were looming so black.
But show that you haven't a cowardly streak,
And though you're unlucky you never are weak.
Carry on! Carry on!
Brace up for another attack.
It's looking like hell, but -- you never can tell:
Carry on, old man! Carry on!

- 4th stanza, Carry On, by Robert W. Service.


Sometimes life just doesn't seem fair, but the amazing thing is that the obstacles we face in life all come together to make us stronger, better and wiser people.

One day, I'm going to cross that desert.

I know I will.

And did I mention that I miss telling stories?

Oh well...

Hamlet's Hero out.


Anonymous said...

Always enjoy reading something like this.Just inspiring. All the best.

Anonymous said...

12th paragraph last line - Shouldn't "nothing" be "anything" ?

Good story, keep it up !


Kevin Chan said...


Thanks, I really enjoy writing such stories too!


Corrected! (: Will definitely do so!

Anonymous said...

The superior man makes the difficulty to be overcome his first interest; success comes only later.