The Heavy Pinky

Once there was a tiny boy.

Well, everything about him was tiny except for the pinky finger on his left hand.

By the time this little boy was 4 years old, his pinky finger was the size of his dad.

Not only was this a big problem, it was a heavy problem. His pinky finger weighed about a hundred and forty pounds.

Once, his finger dangled out of bed, and the rest of him flipped over so fast, the floor knocked him out.

It was nearly impossible to use scissors or play ball for any extended amount of time and getting dressed was sometimes a hazard.

But he made friends easily and got by in school ok using his other hand for most of the reading and writing.

But when it was time to graduate high school, his parents feared there would be no place in the world for that pinky. So they sent him to a career counselor.

The boy sat in a chair next to the chair where his pinky sat, and the counselor racked his brain.

“Have you considered surgery?”

The boy looked at his pinky which was now bigger than he was, and then back to the counselor.

“Which one of us are you speaking to,” he asked, terrified of either scenario.

The counselor sighed. “Ok, ok, never mind. Well, what do you love to do?”

“That’s easy,” the boy said. “I love to sing.”

And right then, the boy opened his mouth and a song began to flow into the room - a song that was at once beautiful and sad and even hopeful.

The counselor’s heart was so stirred, he began to weep.

Even teachers and students who were just passing by the counselor’s office, began to weep.

And from then on, people traveled from all over the world just to hear the boy’s beautiful voice.

And his pinky hardly ever got in the way.

The End.

-JLK