Emma's Rug
“It was a small rug, shaggy and plain, the kind that keeps your feet warm in the bathroom.
So Mother laid it by the crib, for the day the baby could stand on her feet.
And by the time Emma climbed out of the crib by herself, no one remembered who had given her the rug.
Emma loved the rug.
She lay on it and sat on it and she was happy.
When she began to walk, she carried it everywhere she went, but never stepped on it.
Now she only stared at it, sitting perfectly still, for long periods of ti...me.
"That's not a blanket. It's her television," Father said.
"What do you see in that fuzzy thing?" Mother asked.
Emma did not answer.
Before long, Emma began to draw and paint.
Her parents were quite impressed.
"Now, there is a wart hog," Father would say.
"Where did she see a pangolin? Is that a tapir?" Mother would ask.
One weekend, Father put up a small drawing table in the kitchen, and right away the kitchen became Emma's favorite place in the house.MoreLess
So Mother laid it by the crib, for the day the baby could stand on her feet.
And by the time Emma climbed out of the crib by herself, no one remembered who had given her the rug.
Emma loved the rug.
She lay on it and sat on it and she was happy.
When she began to walk, she carried it everywhere she went, but never stepped on it.
Now she only stared at it, sitting perfectly still, for long periods of ti...me.
"That's not a blanket. It's her television," Father said.
"What do you see in that fuzzy thing?" Mother asked.
Emma did not answer.
Before long, Emma began to draw and paint.
Her parents were quite impressed.
"Now, there is a wart hog," Father would say.
"Where did she see a pangolin? Is that a tapir?" Mother would ask.
One weekend, Father put up a small drawing table in the kitchen, and right away the kitchen became Emma's favorite place in the house.MoreLess
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