Danny’s Magic Drawings Mary Raebel


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“But it's just a picture,” said Danny. He sat on the sidewalk in front of his house. Green and purple sidewalk chalk smudged his face and t-shirt.


“No,” said Ella. “It's magic. Your pictures are magic!” She waved a paper in front of his face. “Look. You drew a picture of me doing a cartwheel, and today for the first time, I did one!”


“That's right,” said Luke. “And you drew a picture of me hitting a home run at my baseball game, and it came true!”


Danny shrugged and finished the dinosaur he was drawing on the sidewalk.


“You'd better be careful what you draw, Danny,” said Luke, pointing to the smiling green dinosaur. “Magic can be powerful. Why don't you draw me finding the library book I lost?”


“Or me getting an ‘A' on my spelling test,” said Ella.


“But they're just pictures,” Danny said.


“They're magic!” his friends yelled together.


Danny sighed, then went inside and began to draw.


The next day, Luke found his library book, Ella got an A on her spelling test…and Grandma Cookie tripped on her front steps and broke her foot.


Grandma Cookie lived across the street from Danny. She had white curly hair, and she smelled like cocoa. Often when Danny and his friends were outside playing, Grandma Cookie would come outside, too. She always had a plate of cookies, with the chocolate chips still warm and melty from the oven. That's why everyone called her Grandma Cookie.


The name had made her chuckle, but not now. Nothing made her smile. Grandma Cookie didn't like sitting on the couch all day. When Danny and his friends came to visit, she frowned and said she wondered if she'd ever get off the couch again.


“Danny, you have to draw a picture of Grandma Cookie getting better,” said Ella.


“Draw her working in her garden or dancing or something,” said Luke.


“Draw her baking cookies!” said Ella.


Danny shook his head and picked at the dried red paint on the front of his shirt. “I can't make her better,” he said.


“But your pictures can,” said Luke. “They're magic.”


Danny shook his head sadly, then went inside and began to draw. Danny knew his pictures weren't magic. Once he had drawn a picture of himself with a long white beard. When he woke up the next day, there was no white beard.


He had also drawn a picture of his top dresser drawer filled with chocolate bars and jellybeans. But when he'd opened the drawer, the only things he'd found were his socks and underwear.


“I like those flowers you're drawing,” said Danny's mom, looking over his shoulder. Then she laughed. “They make me want to do some gardening.”


“They do?” Danny squinted at his picture.


Danny's dad walked in, carrying a big piece of apple pie.


“Hey, that pie was for dessert tonight,” Danny's mom scolded.


“Blame it on inspiration,” said his dad. “I saw Danny's picture of his favorite sweet treats. It inspired me to eat!”


Danny's parents laughed.


Danny's eyes grew wide. “Inspiration? My pictures make people want to do things?” He thought about it, smiled, and began to draw.


“What's this?” asked Ella the next day. She was looking at the pictures Danny had drawn the night before.


“It's you dusting Grandma Cookie's furniture,” said Danny. “This is me pulling weeds in her garden, and this is Luke sweeping her floor.”


“These aren't pictures of Grandma Cookie all better,” said Ella.


“No,” said Danny. “They're pictures of us helping her get better.”


And that's what they did. They dusted, and swept, and pulled weeds for Grandma Cookie. And when they were finished, Danny drew one more picture.


“What's this?” asked Grandma Cookie as she unrolled Danny's picture. She sat on the couch with her broken foot resting on some pillows.


Danny pointed at her foot, his finger stained with markers.


Grandma Cookie looked at the picture. She saw herself standing on the sidewalk, holding a plate of cookies. Danny had drawn a smile on her face and her foot without a cast.


“It's inspiration,” said Danny.


Grandma Cookie smiled. “It certainly is!” she said.
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