Aspirations
by Melodie
Corrigall
The moment the
crown was placed on her head, Matilda
acknowledged that even the acclaim that came with
winning the regional Pickle Eating Contest—second
year in a row—was as naught. Matilda’s
passion was sheep; her goal was to be a
shepherdess.
She had joined
the swaying group of people who were successes in
the world’s eyes but who were in their own,
more discerning estimations, failures. Matilda
had known of these people for years: whenever she
saw stories about them she’d get out the
scissors. She had a scrapbook ready to go.
But that day
it had been revealed to her that her mission was
to write a book outlining their frustrations. Who
better? Her personal experience would be the
final chapter. She’d call it: “Joining
the Successes.” Celebrities like Sibelius
who had written tunes so catchy that even she
recognized them to Sullivan, of Gilbert and
Sullivan, who wrote those upbeat melodies but
wanted to compose symphonies.
Even as a
toddler Matilda only liked stories like
Noah’s Ark and Jesus’ birth, which
involved sheep. Mary and her little lamb had been
a favorite, although Matilda had insisted that
Mary’s lamb would have preferred to wander
the hills rather than go to school. “Even
if he were academically inclined how can even a
little lamb fit comfortably in such tiny seats?”
Over the years,
she had tried every avenue to reach her
shepherdess goal. To succeed, she required sheep
and to this end had consulted the owner of the
local feed store about lambs in the area.
“More a cattle district,” Bobbin had
said, staring out the window at the open range.
When Matilda
advertised her aspirations on-line she discovered
that local shepherdess opportunities were limited. “Send
me a photo, I’d like a little shepherding,”
said one cocky responder who was immediately
filed in the trash.
Not easily
discouraged, the image of herself with her little
herd moving across the hills persisted. Under a
bright night sky, they’d hunker down as she—staff
in hand—kept a sharp eye out for wolves. But
here again Matilda was thwarted; the local park
ranger insisted that there were no wolves for two
hundred miles. And what wolf would go that far
for supper?
So the day
after the Pickle award, Matilda, with help from
her librarian friend, put together a query letter
linking her experience to the others to be
featured in the book: “As one who shares
their angst, I can describe the pain of aspirants
(14 examples) who end up celebrated among the
many but frustrated professionally,” she
wrote.
Satisfied,
she was on the right track at last, that night,
as Matilda drifted off to sleep, counting sheep,
she speculated whether the book cover should have
a photo of her in her Pickle crown or a line
drawing of her on a hillside, in an appropriate
bonnet, with her beloved sheep.
|
