Pinocchio

Pinocchio

Once, in an old carpenter's workshop, there lay an ordinary piece of wood. At least, that was what everyone thought. When the carpenter brought his plane up to it, a tiny voice suddenly called out from the wood. “That tickles!” The carpenter nearly dropped his tool. “Who said that?” There was no one in the workshop. He carefully touched the wood again. “Not so hard!” said the voice. The old man decided that this was far too peculiar a piece of wood for an ordinary table leg. Just then, his friend Geppetto came in. Geppetto was a poor craftsman who knew how to carve wooden toys. “I need a good piece of wood,” Geppetto said. “I want to make a puppet that can walk and dance, and perhaps help me earn a little money.” The old carpenter quickly handed him the strange log. “Take it. It's… very special.” Geppetto carried the wood home. His little room held a table, a chair, a bed, and a fireplace painted on the wall, because he could not afford a real one. He picked up his knife and began to carve a head. As soon as he made the eyes, they blinked. “Well, I never,” Geppetto murmured. When he carved the nose, it seemed to stretch out all by itself. “That's enough,” he said, and trimmed it a little. The nose grew again. “Very well. That will have to do.” Next came a mouth. “Ha, ha!” laughed the wooden puppet. “You haven't even got legs yet, and already you're laughing at the man who's making you?” When Geppetto finished the arms and legs, the puppet jumped off the table. “I can walk!” “First, learn how to stand.” But the newly made wooden boy was already running around the room, peering into cupboards, twirling in front of the mirror, and touching everything he could reach. “What shall I call you?” Geppetto wondered. “Pinocchio!” cried the puppet, as though the name had been waiting inside the wood all along. “Pinocchio it is, then.” That very day, the wooden boy ran out into the street. He desperately wanted to see the world, and he had not yet learned to think about what might happen next. “Stop!” Geppetto called. Pinocchio kept running. After a great deal of commotion, he was finally brought home. Geppetto did not shout. He sat down on a chair and said wearily: “Being free doesn't mean running wherever you please without thinking about who will have to look for you.” Pinocchio was only half listening. A Cricket lived in a corner of the room. He had watched the craftsman for a long time, and now he decided to speak. “Your father is right,” he said. “Do you want to be independent? Learn, work, and think before you act.” “I don't like being told what to do,” Pinocchio grumbled. He angrily swung a wooden spoon. It struck the wall beside the Cricket, who hurried into hiding. Pinocchio felt a little ashamed at once, but he did not yet know how to apologize. The next morning, Geppetto said: “You need to go to school.” “But I haven't got a reading book.” “You shall have one.” It was winter outside. Geppetto had only an old jacket, but he sold it to buy his son a book. “Won't you be cold?” Pinocchio asked. “I move about a great deal in the workshop.” The boy hugged the reading book to his chest. For the first time, he understood very clearly that someone had given up something he needed for Pinocchio's sake. He set off for school with the best of intentions. But on the way, he heard music. There was a puppet theatre in the square. “There will be lessons tomorrow,” Pinocchio thought. “But this performance is only here today.” He had no money for a ticket. Pinocchio hesitated for a long time. Then he sold his reading book. Something wonderful happened in the theatre. As soon as the wooden actors saw Pinocchio, they cried: “He's one of us!” The puppets jumped off the stage, embraced him, and brought the performance to a halt. The theatre owner, a fierce-looking man with a moustache, was angry at first. But when he heard about poor Geppetto, his heart softened. “Here are five gold coins,” he said. “Take them to your father. And don't sell something he gave up his own warmth to buy for you again.” Pinocchio put the coins in his pocket and set off for home. On the road, he met a Fox and a Cat. The Fox walked with a limp, and the Cat pretended he could hardly see. They soon noticed the glint of the coins. “Where are you going, my friend?” the Fox asked sweetly. “Home to my father. I've got five gold coins!” “Only five? What a pity.” “Why is it a pity?” “Because you could easily turn them into fifty. Or perhaps five hundred.” Pinocchio's eyes widened. “How?” “In the Land of Fools, there's a Field of Miracles,” the Fox explained. “You bury your coins in the ground, water them, and go to sleep. By morning, a tree has grown, covered in gold.” The Cricket's words seemed to whisper in Pinocchio's head: “Think before you act.” But the dream of a golden tree was louder. “Let's go!” That evening, they stopped at an inn. The Fox and the Cat ordered a great deal of food, then slipped away, leaving Pinocchio to pay. He still did not realize he had been tricked. During the night, two strangers in dark cloaks sprang at him on the road. They demanded his coins. Pinocchio ran away and wandered through the forest for a long time before reaching a little white house. A girl with blue hair lived there. Everyone called her the Blue Fairy. She took him in, let him rest, and asked: “Where are the gold coins?” “I lost them,” Pinocchio answered quickly. His nose grew longer. “I mean… I never had any.” His nose grew longer still. “Perhaps I had some, but only a very few.” Now the tip of his nose knocked against a vase. The Fairy did not scold him. “Lies often grow just like that. At first they seem small, and then they take up half the room.” Pinocchio blushed. “I do have the coins. I was afraid to tell the truth.” As soon as he honestly told her everything, his nose gradually returned to its usual size. “I want to go home,” Pinocchio said. “Then go straight to Geppetto.” And he really did set off. But before long, he met the Fox and the Cat again. “We've been looking for you!” the Fox cried. “The Field of Miracles is just nearby.” Pinocchio was doubtful. “You disappeared yesterday.” “A misunderstanding!” They spoke so cleverly that the boy believed them once more. At the Field of Miracles, he buried four coins, watered the ground, and went behind a hill to wait. When he came back, the hole was empty. The Fox and the Cat were gone too. Pinocchio sat down on the ground. “I gave them the very thing I was supposed to bring to Father.” This time, he did not look for excuses. The journey home was a long one. He had several more adventures, worked to earn food, and thought of Geppetto more and more often. When he finally returned to his hometown, the house was empty. A neighbour told him: “Geppetto went to look for you. He built a little boat and sailed across the sea.” “Across the sea? Alone?” Pinocchio felt cold inside. He was about to run to the shore when he met a cheerful, carefree boy called Lampwick. “Where are you rushing off to?” Lampwick asked. “To look for my father.” “Wait until tomorrow, at least. I'm going to the Land of Toys. There are no schools, no lessons, and no work there. Just games all day!” “I'll only have a look, then come straight back,” Pinocchio decided. That “only” lasted for months. In the Land of Toys, children rode merry-go-rounds, played ball, laughed, and did whatever they pleased. At first, Pinocchio was happy. Then one morning, he woke up and felt something strange on his head. Long ears. “Lampwick!” His friend had them too. Before long, Pinocchio's hands became hooves, and his voice turned into a donkey's bray. It turned out that the Land of Toys was a trap. Anyone who forgot everything but fun for too long was magically turned into a donkey and sold. Pinocchio ended up in a circus. He was made to perform tricks, but one day he stumbled and could no longer jump so high. His new owner sold him to a man who wanted to use the donkey's skin to make a drum. Pinocchio found himself in the water. But the sea worked an unexpected miracle: little fish nibbled away the magical donkey covering, and a wooden boy rose out of the water once more. “I'm myself again!” he cried joyfully. His joy did not last long. An enormous shadow loomed over the water. Pinocchio saw a wide-open mouth, and a rush of water swept him inside a gigantic sea creature. It was dark in there. He wandered for a long time before noticing a tiny light in the distance. An old man was sitting beside a candle. “Father?” Geppetto looked up. “Pinocchio!” They rushed into each other's arms. Geppetto explained that his boat had overturned in a storm and the enormous fish had swallowed him. He had lived inside it for many months, eating supplies from a ship the creature had swallowed too. “We'll get out,” Pinocchio said. “I'm old and weak now.” “Now it's my turn to help you.” They waited until the great fish fell asleep and opened its mouth to breathe. Pinocchio took his father on his back and began to swim. The waves were strong. “Leave me,” Geppetto begged. “Save yourself.” “No.” Pinocchio swam on. Just as his strength was almost gone, a large tuna appeared beside them. He too had escaped from the creature's belly. “Hold on to me,” he said. “The shore isn't far.” And so they returned to dry land. But poverty awaited them at home. Geppetto was too weak to do much work. The old Pinocchio might have gone looking for magic coins or a country without lessons. The new Pinocchio got up early in the morning and went to find a job. He carried water, helped on a farm, and wove baskets. In the evenings, he learned to read and write. “Is it hard?” asked the Cricket, who had appeared beside him again. “Yes.” “Do you want to run away?” Pinocchio thought for a moment. “Sometimes. But now I know you can't get very far by running away from yourself.” He bought Geppetto a warm blanket and some milk, then began saving for new clothes. One day, he learned that the Blue Fairy was ill and needed help. Pinocchio had forty soldi, which he had spent a long time saving. He gave them all. “I can earn more.” That night, he dreamed of the Fairy. “Pinocchio,” she said, “having a wooden body never stopped you from being real. But now you have learned things that no knife can carve: responsibility, compassion, and honesty.” In the morning, sunlight shone straight through the window. Pinocchio lifted a hand to shield his eyes, then froze. His hand was warm. It was not made of wood. He ran to the mirror. A living boy looked back at him. “Father!” Geppetto woke up and did not immediately understand who was standing before him. Then he saw the eyes. “Pinocchio?” “It's me!” On a chair in the corner lay the old wooden puppet, with its long arms, funny little cap, and a nose that had once been unable to keep secrets. Pinocchio looked at it for a long time. “What a strange fellow I was.” Geppetto smiled. “You were a child who was learning.” “And making lots of mistakes.” “That's how you learned.” Pinocchio did not become perfect overnight. He still sometimes rushed, grew angry, felt lazy, and dreamed of taking the easy way. But now he knew how to stop and ask himself: “What will happen next? Who will my choice help, and who might it hurt? Am I trying to grow another golden tree without doing any work?” And whenever he did not like the answer, he no longer ran away from it. The wooden boy did not become real simply because he was no longer made of wood. He became real when he learned to take responsibility for his actions, care for those who loved him, and tell the truth even at the very moments when a lie would have made his nose grow fastest.

May this story leave a little light in your heart ✨