The Most Magnificent thing by Ashley
Spires. This is a regular girl and her best friend in the whole wide world. They
do all kinds of things together. They race, they eat, they explore, they relax. She makes things, he unmakes things. One day, the girl has a wonderful idea. She is going to make the most magnificent thing. She knows just how it will look. She
knows just how it will work. All she has to do is make it. And she makes things
all the time. Easy-peasy! First, she hires an assistant. Next, they, together, go out and gather their supplies. They set up somewhere out of
the way and they get to work. The girl tinker’s and hammers and measures while her assistant pounces and growls and chews. When she is finished, she steps
back to admire her work. She walks around one side. Her assistant examines the
other side. It doesn’t look right. Her assistant picks it up and gives it a
shake. It doesn’t feel right, either. They are shocked to discover that the thing isn’t magnificent, or good. It isn’t even kind-of-sort-of okay. It’s
all wrong. And the girl tosses it aside and gives it another go. She smoothes and wrenches and fiddles. Her assistant circles and tugs and wags. When she’s finished, she stands up and takes a long look at it. Her assistant gives it a
nudge with his paw. The thing is still wrong. She decides to try again. The girl saws and glues and adjusts. She stands and examines and stares. She twists and
tweaks and fastens. She fixes and straightens and studies. She tries all
the different ways to make it better she makes it square. She makes it round. She
gives it legs. She adds antennae. She makes it fuzzy. She makes it long, short, rough, smooth, big, small, and she even makes it smell of stinky cheese. None of them are working and none of them are magnificent. Her hard work attracts
a few admirers but they don’t understand. They can’t see the Magnificent thing
that she has in her mind. She gets mad. The angrier she gets the faster she
works. She smashes pieces into shapes. She jams parts together. She pummels a
little bits in. Her hands feel too big to do the work and her brain is too full of
all the not-right things. If only this thing would just work! Crunch! The pain starts in her finger it rushes up to her brain and she explodes! It is not her
finest moment. I’m no good at this, I quit. Her assistant suggests a walk. It’s not much help at first. But before
long, she starts to feel different. Bit by bit, the mad gets pushed out of her head. As they stroll along, she comes across
the first wrong thing she made. The bad feelings are about to start all over again. And then she notices something surprising. There are some parts of the
wrong things that are really quite right. The bolts on one, the shape of another.
The wheel-to-seat ratio of the next. There are all sorts sorts of parts that she liked. By the time she reaches the end of the trail, she finally knows how to make
the thing magnificent. She gets to work. She works carefully and slowly, tinkering
hammering, twisting, fiddling, gluing painting. Her assistant makes sure there
are no distractions. The afternoon fades into evening. Finally, she finishes.
She alerts her assistant. The pair take a good, long look. It leans a little to the left, and it’s a bit heavier than expected. The color could use a bit of work, too. But it’s just what she wanted. They climb aboard and take it for a spin.
They are not disappointed. It really is the Most Magnificent Thing.