Jack And His Sticks

“It’s mine, and you can’t have it!” Jack shrieked.

He yanked a stick out of Dominic’s hands, then whacked him on the head with it, before tossing it into the growing collection at his feet. Dominic howled as he rubbed the side of his head. Tears spilled from his eyes, and snot dropped from his nose. The other children in the playscape stopped to stare at the small boy cowering on the ground, and the tall boy glaring down at him.

When Teacher Tess heard Dominic’s cries, she rushed to the scene.

“Dominic, are you okay?” she asked, crouching down to look him over.

“Jack hit me with a stick. I wanted to play with that stick and he took it from me,” Dominic sobbed.

Jack picked up his stick pile and, trying to be discreet, moved it further away from his crying friend.

“Jack, come here please,” Teacher Tess called to him.

Jack pretended not to hear her. He knew he was about to get in trouble, and he was tired of being in trouble. Grown-ups always expected kids to just give up what was theirs, even though it wasn’t fair.

“Jack, I need you to come here,” Teacher Tess said again.

Jack kicked at his sticks, then stomped over to his teacher, arms crossed, and scowling. Feelings of frustration rose up from his belly, filling his chest. 

“But they’re just going to take my sticks! Those are my sticks! I found them, and I need them! They can’t just take them!” he shouted.

“I hear that there is a problem with the sticks, and I would like to help you,” Teacher Tess began.

Dominic was feeling brave, with the teacher by his side.

“Don’t hit me, Jack! I don’t like when you do that. It hurts!” he blurted out.

“Then don’t just take my sticks. They’re MINE! I found them!” Jack raged.

 His heart was pounding, and he felt like he was going to explode. 

“He won’t share!” Dominic pointed out.

“Jack, you have a lot of sticks, and Dominic, you would like some sticks. How can we solve this problem?” Teacher Tess continued.

“I worked hard to get all these sticks and I need them! Don’t tell me that I have to share!” Jack insisted. 

“You worked hard to collect all those sticks, and you don’t have to share them. But, would you be willing to show Dominic where you found your sticks, so he can find some of his own?” Teacher Tess suggested.

Jack considered this. 

“But then other people are going to take my sticks while I’m helping Dominic!” he growled.

“I have an idea. Wait just a minute,” Teacher Tess said.

Jack and Dominic watched as she ran to the shed. For the first time ever, Jack felt like there was a grown up who actually cared about what he wanted. Teacher Tess was going to help him. She wasn’t just waiting for him to do as she said. Tess opened  the shed door, rummaged around, and came back with 4 large orange cones.

“Here. You can set these cones around your pile of sticks. Then everyone will know that those sticks are yours,” Teacher Tess said.

Jack thought about this idea. It was a good plan, but it wasn’t enough. 

“I need a sign. I need to write that these are my sticks,” Jack decided.

Teacher Tess ran back to the shed, and returned with a clipboard and some markers. 

“Here you go,” she said, as she handed the materials to Jack.

“I need you to do it. I don’t know how to write,” Jack said, passing the clipboard back to Teacher Tess.

“Okay. What do you want me to write?” the teacher asked.

“Do not touch!” Jack replied without hesitation.

Teacher Tess wrote the letters so big, they took up all of the space on the paper.

“Alright, now what?” she asked.

“I actually need some string, too,” Jack said.

Tess scrounged around in the shed until she came out with some rope.

“Will this work?” she asked, holding it up.

Jack nodded. Teacher Tess handed him the rope, and Jack got to work. He looped the string around the top of the 4 orange cones, and tied a knot to secure both ends together. He set the clipboard with his sign against the barrier. 

“Now no one will take my sticks,” he said, breathing a sigh of relief.

By this point, Dominic had found some other friends, with other sticks, to play with. Jack stood guard over his collection, still not quite trusting that his pile would be safe, despite the sign and cones protecting it.

It looked like the other children were having fun. They were working together in one of the forts, and from what Jack could tell, they seemed to be playing a game that involved sharing a big pile of sticks.

Jack inched toward the group of children, glancing back at his pile every once in a while.

“Jack, do you want to play with us?” Dominic called. 

Jack looked at his stick pile, then at Dominic. It was more fun to play with someone, but he was afraid to leave his sticks. He was torn. He ran over to his friend.

“We’re builders. These are our tools. Do you want to play? We need a wrench,” Dominic explained.

“I’ve got a wrench!” Jack exclaimed.

He ran back to his pile and grabbed a thick, Y shaped stick. 

“Here’s the wrench!” Jack said.

“You fix the sink. We’re building the wall,” Dominic instructed.

“Where’s the sink?” Jack wanted to know.

Dominic pointed, and Jack knelt down to 

fix the pretend pipes with his wrench. Dominic pounded the fort wall with his stick hammer, and the other children used their tools to screw and saw.

A boy entered the fort carrying a large bucket.

“This is where we store our tools,” he informed everyone.

He began to fill the bucket with sticks from the floor of the fort. The other children joined him in moving the sticks into the bucket.

Jack stepped out of the fort to check on his own pile of sticks. Nothing was moved, and no one had touched anything. When he turned back into the fort, the other children were working together to carry the bucket, heavy with their stick tools, over to a tree.

“We need more sticks like that,” a girl announced. 

She was holding another bucket, this one empty.

“We already took all of the sticks from the woods,” someone else said.

The children all turned their heads towards Jack’s pile of sticks. Dominic stepped forward.

“Jack, could we use some of your sticks? Not all of them, but just some?” he asked.

Jack ran to his pile of sticks, ready to defend what was his. His heart was racing, and his shoulders felt tense again. When he looked up and saw all of his friends’ hopeful faces, he had a change of heart. It was more fun to play together. Being part of the group felt better than fighting against them.  

Jack took a deep breath. Then he removed the rope and cones from around his pile.

“I think we can all use my sticks now,” he said, slowly.

If felt safe to open his pile of sticks to the group, now that he knew Teacher Tess was on his side. He could count on her to help him find a solution to any problems that might pop up.

Together, all of the kids worked to fill the second bucket with sticks from Jack’s pile. They played for the rest of the afternoon, under the guidance of Teacher Tess. 

“Thank you for helping me with my sticks,” Jack said, when it was time to go home.

“You’re welcome, Jack,” the teacher replied.

Jack wrapped her in a giant hug before skipping to the pickup line.