The Toothy Pencil

This is a story from my early childhood gather from it what you will.

When I was in first grade I had a pencil. I had been given this pencil from my dentist on one of my first visits. This pencil was a prized childhood possession of mine for no real reason other than I liked the way it looked. It was a shiny dark green with smiling white teeth spiraling up its length and at the end there was a black eraser. One day, maybe a week or so after I acquired the pencil, my teacher approached me and asked if a girl from my class could borrow one of my pencils for a while. I had a few other pencils out on my desk and I was using a large blue one I had received from my teachers at my preschool. This pencil was unique in that no matter how long I used it seemed never to be used up. I still have this pencil and although it is now a couple inches shorter its longevity is still astounding. Having pencils to spare I consented to allow her to use a pencil. The teacher picked up the shiny green one from the dentist and handed it to the girl standing behind her. At the time this did not bother me though later I would regret it. The day proceeded and I enjoyed it very much. It consisted of easy work, a good lunch, and a fun playground break. Near the end of the day I approached the girl I had loaned the pencil to. To my dismay when I requested the return of my pencil she appeared to have no idea what I was talking about. I explained to her that I required the return of the shiny green toothy pencil in her possession and reminded her that I had loaned it to her earlier that day. She informed me that the pencil was in fact her's and that her dentist had given it to her! At this point I was quite surprised and retreated to my desk for a moment to think. I considered for a moment that I may have asked the wrong girl and that she was clearly right. However, this was clearly wrong because she matched my recollection perfectly and as everyone was doing his or her work at this moment I could see that no one else had a similar pencil. After coming to this conclusion I decided I would have to appeal to a higher authority, the teacher. I approached my teacher and informed her that the girl refused to return my pencil. I walked behind and to the side of my teacher to confront the girl. The teacher asked her about the situation and the girl denied that the pencil was mine. I pointedly reminded the teacher that it was she who had asked if the girl could use the pencil. The teacher had trouble recalling the event but seemed to remember something similar happening earlier in the day. She asked the girl again if she was sure that the pencil was her's. By now the girl was looking troubled and appeared to be close to tears, as well she should have been for lying. After what I have mentioned my attention wondered and I didn't hear all that the teacher had said to the girl. The teacher continued to talk to the girl and then turned and talked to me. The teacher then misdirected me somehow though my memory is unclear of just how after these many years. What I do remember is that the teacher did not think I was lying about the pencil but that the pencil wasn't really important enough for all this fuss. I was not going to get my pencil back. I was rather shocked by this and had no idea what to say. I returned to my seat and continued my work until the end of the day. As was her habit my mother would ask me about my day and being so young I would easily open up and tell her everything I remembered. Upon telling her about my pencil, what the teacher had said, and generally complaining about it, she told me that I was right but that the teacher was also right and that the pencil didn't matter much. This made me angry and I complained some more and questioned how this event could possibly be right. I know now the reason why the teacher maneuvered me away from recovering my pencil though I could not think of one at the time. My teacher was attempting to avoid a scene of the girl crying and throwing a tantrum. She obviously believed that the pencil meant much less to me than to the girl and so I could do without it to spare the girls feelings and make things easier for all involved. In a way she could have been right. If before this I had been given a trade of the toothy pencil for an equally fancy looking pencil I would likely have accepted. I could easily get another on my next visit to the dentist and, in fact, I did. However, the value of the toothy pencil was in the fact that another person had wronged me. I expected it to be set right. Since I was not going to receive help from the classroom authority I did what any decent wronged individual would do. I took matters into my own hands. The following weeks, I think it was about two, I plotted on how to get my pencil back. I considered being forceful, walking up and taking it and shoving the girl to the ground if she tried to stop me. However, I did not want to do this because I had no desire to cause the girl physical pain. I also knew this would get me in considerable trouble even if the pencil was mine to begin with. When I was in elementary school I was against using physical force to get what I wanted. I would even avoid fighting people who tried to shove me around. This was not because I was afraid to fight but because I thought there was always a better way to fight. I always found some way to avoid confrontation. Blackmail worked well to keep people off my back but that is another story. I decided that I would have to steal my pencil back. Unfortunately, the girl was very protective of it and it took me about two weeks to "recover" it. When I finally did the toothy pencil had more than one reason for its name. During the time I had to wait to steal it back the girl had chewed on it. She did not stick with chewing the eraser like most people; she had chewed all along its length. The pencil was also much shorter from her heavy use. I was annoyed at these changes to my prize but was glad that I had recovered what was mine. I made a point of surreptitiously showing the girl that I now had the toothy pencil to let her know that I had triumphed over her. However, I received no pleasure from this because the girl no longer had any attachment to the pencil. She didn’t even care that I now had it! Afterwards I made sure to tell my friends never to trust her and I myself had no dealings with her ever again. I felt cheated and I knew that my loss would likely never be set equal. After the day the toothy pencil had been stolen from me I never again kept more than one pencil out on my desk. I did this so I could claim the pencil I was using was my only one and I could not afford to loan it to anyone. The moral of this story is that whenever possible one should seek fairness always. For those of you who believe in karma the story continues. As of this date the girl in this story gained a prodigious amount of weight in High School and never was a straight A student. With any luck, she will spend the rest of her days in trailer park. The second moral of this story is let go of those grudges when the universe equalizes things for you. I really love karma.