JOURNAL ENTRY

BY JEAN LITTLE  

Here is one of Jean Little's journal entries when she was in Grade Six

Last night, a famous artist came to have supper at our house. Mother took him down to the cellar. The great painter stopped dead in his tracks and pointed to our cellar walls.

"Madam," he cried, "whoever painted these magnificent murals on your walls?"

Mother stared at the wondrous paintings.

"I have no idea," she said in a bewildered voice. She turned to her children.


"Children," she said, "have you any idea who painted these magnificent murals?"

The other children shook their heads.

"As a matter of fact," I said, " I painted them"

"But you had no paints!" Mother cried.

"I know," I said modestly, "but I so longed to paint that I boiled roots and squeezed berries and made my own paints."

The great artist patted my head.

"Madam," he said, with tears in his eyes, "someday this little girl of yours will be world famous as an artist."