The Whoopsie Daisy – part one

August 21, 2011 at 3:57 pm Leave a comment

Once upon a time there was a young daisy who lived in a big field with many other wildflowers. Daisy liked nothing more than to please people, but however hard she tried to do the right thing she would only end up causing problems. Daisy was so clumsy, and the word “whoopsie!” sprang from her mouth so often, the other plants had taken to calling her the Whoopsie Daisy.

Daisius Clumsius - the very unscientific name for a Whoopsie Daisy

Daisy didn’t love the nickname, but she could not deny that she was rather clumsy.

The harder she tried to be helpful the clumsier she got, until the other plants would shout, “For goodness sake Whoopsie Daisy, stop helping us!”

“Whoopsie,” Daisy would reply, “I am so sorry!”

But no matter how sorry she was it never seemed to make things any better.

Daisy’s least favourite part of the day was the early morning, just as the sun was rising. That was when the wildflowers all made the trek down to a nearby stream to collect water for their garden beds.

They carried an assortment of gumnuts and other small containers down to fill with fresh water, then lugged them back again.

It was hard work, but that was not why Daisy disliked it. It was just that, no matter how hard she tried, she never managed to get all of the water back to her garden bed in one go.

She had tried asking her father whether he could go instead, but every time she asked he would sigh and say; “Daisy, I cannot always do things for you when you find them too hard. You must learn to do them yourself.”

Daisy understood, but no matter how many times she made the trip, something always went wrong.

Daisy was usually the last one to get down to the stream. She reasoned that, if there were fewer flowers there, there were fewer ways for her to mess up (along with fewer calls of “Whoopsie Daisy, you’ve done it again!”).

So Daisy chose instead to meander on her daily trip to the stream, stopping to chat to trees and bushes she passed along the way.

But today many of her friends were busy, and when she reached the stream old Grandfather Dandelion was still there, filling a large gumnut with water for his garden bed.

Grandfather Dandelion was fiercely proud of his garden, and took great care to keep it looking nice.

The daily water trips took him longer than many other flowers due to arthritis in his leaves, however he insisted on doing it himself.

“Hello young Whoopsie Daisy,” Grandfather Dandelion said, slowly lifting his gumnut from the stream, “what brings you here so late in the day?”.

Daisy saw that he was struggling to lift the heavy gumnut and worried he might hurt himself. She stepped forward hurriedly to help him, but forgot to look where she was going, and instead tripped on a tree root and bumped right into Grandfather Dandelion, spilling his bucket of water all over him!

“Whoopsie!” Daisy cried, “I am so sorry Grandfather Dandelion. Here, let me refill that for you!”

She reached to take his gumnut but Grandfather Dandelion backed away.

“No thank you Whoopsie Daisy, that’s quite alright. I think you’ve done enough helping for one day,” he replied.

Daisy felt terrible. She stood quietly as Grandfather Dandelion refilled his gumnut and started back to his garden bed, then stooped to fill her own gumnut.

“Why must I be so careless?” she thought, “I only wanted to help and all I did was make things worse. Oh dear, I wish I hadn’t done that!”

She was so wrapped up in her thoughts as she made her way back to her garden bed that she didn’t even notice the water sloshing out of her gumnut.

By the time she got back, her gumnut was only half full.

“Daisy!” daddy cried, “where’s all the water?”

Daisy looked down at her gumnut in dismay.

“Whoopsie!” she said, “I am so sorry daddy. I’m certain it was full when I left. Here, let me take it back to the stream and refill it.”

“No thank you Daisy, I’ll take it myself. Our garden bed needs water, and by this rate it will be afternoon before it gets it.”

He spread the water from the gumnut across part of the garden, then carried it back down the path to the stream.

Some of her classmates saw what had happened and started to laugh.

“Whoopsie Daisy, you’ve done it again!” they shouted gleefully.

Daisy was very sad.

“Why can’t I get things right?” she wondered.

“Nobody else seems to have these problems. Maybe the problem is me.”

Daisy decided to speak to other plants to see what she could do to be less clumsy.

She ran down the path to the stream to ask daddy first. He was very clever and never seemed to mess things up like she did, so he might have the answer.

“Oh Daisy,” daddy sighed when she asked him, “you just need to think before you act. You always jump in and do things without thinking. Now please run along, I really must get this water back to our bed before the sun is too high and it all evaporates.”

Daisy didn’t think his advice was very helpful. She always seemed to mess things up more when she was thinking hard, so how was thinking more going to help?

Next, Daisy went to see Mother Willow, the wisest tree in the forest.

Mother Willow thought long and hard about Daisy’s question.

“It is a big question you ask,” she said finally.

“If one is to become not what one is, then what is one?”

Daisy did not understand. Mother Willow saw the confusion on her face and elaborated.

“Little flower, you must accept what you are, not try to change it. You are the way you are, and that is as it should be,” she said.

“But Mother Willow, I’m not trying to change all of me, I just want to be less clumsy,” Daisy said plaintively.

Mother Willow swayed slightly as she thought.

“Well,” she said at length, “the opposite to chaos is order, and order is formed through discipline. Make every step deliberate and none shall falter from their path.”

Daisy thanked Mother Willow for her advice and left, trying to walk as deliberately as possible, but all it did was make her feel silly.

“It’s all very well being wise,” she thought, “but what good is it when nobody can understand you?”

Part two, coming soon!


Entry filed under: Stories. Tags: , , , , , , .

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