Pollyanna

Pollyanna

When eleven-year-old Pollyanna Whittier was left an orphan, she was sent to live with her aunt, Polly Harrington, in a small town in Vermont. Aunt Polly was wealthy, tidy, and very serious. She took in her niece not because she dreamed of having a child’s laughter in the house, but because she believed it was her duty.

The maid, Nancy, met the girl at the station and worried all the way home that Pollyanna would be upset by her stern aunt. But Pollyanna looked at the hills, trees, and clouds as if the world had just been opened especially for her.

“I’m so glad everything is green here!” she exclaimed. “And I’m glad you came to meet me too.”

Nancy could not understand how a child who had lost both parents could say the word “glad” so many times in a single journey.

Aunt Polly put Pollyanna in a small attic room. There were no pictures, no rug, not even a mirror. Her aunt believed that simplicity would teach the girl discipline.

Pollyanna looked at the bare walls and then went to the window.

“But look at the sky from here!” she said. “If there were a picture on the wall, I might look at that and miss the real trees.”

At last Nancy could not resist asking why Pollyanna was always searching for something to be glad about.

Then the girl told her about the game her father had taught her.

Once, Pollyanna had wanted a doll very badly. Her father had been a poor missionary, and sometimes charitable packages were sent to help their family. One day, instead of a doll, the package contained a pair of small crutches.

Pollyanna burst into tears, but her father suggested they try to find something good even in that.

“And we did!” she told Nancy. “I could be glad that I didn’t need the crutches.”

From then on, they played the “glad game.” In an unpleasant situation, the idea was not to pretend it was pleasant, but to find at least one real thing for which you could be grateful.

Nancy did not trust the game at first. But Pollyanna soon began playing it with more people than herself.

A woman named Mrs. Snow lived in town. She was ill, hardly ever left her bed, and was always dissatisfied with something. Aunt Polly sent her food, and Pollyanna delivered it. No matter what the girl brought, Mrs. Snow replied that she would have preferred something else.

One day Pollyanna said,

“If I had to stay in bed all day, I’d be glad I could try a different hairstyle every day. Your hair looks especially lovely when it’s pinned up like this.”

Instead of arguing, she began arranging Mrs. Snow’s hair, bringing her colored ribbons, and telling her the latest news. After a while, the sick woman began looking forward to Pollyanna’s visits and spent less time thinking about what she lacked.

Then Pollyanna met the lonely Mr. Pendleton. The children in town thought he was a gloomy eccentric. But one day she found him after a bad fall and called for help. While he was recovering, she visited him, and his large, silent house slowly stopped feeling quite so empty.

There was also a boy named Jimmy Bean. He had no home and desperately wanted someone to take him into a family. Pollyanna tried to help him with such determination that it seemed like the most important task in the world. She asked her aunt, neighbors, and acquaintances, and although the problem was not solved at once, Jimmy finally found people who wanted him not as a burden, but as a son.

Pollyanna hardly noticed how her game was spreading through the town. People began saying to one another, “What would Pollyanna find to be glad about in this?” Sometimes it annoyed them, sometimes it made them laugh, but somehow it also helped.

Only Aunt Polly kept her heart locked for a long time. Years before, she had been close to Doctor Thomas Chilton, but an old quarrel had driven them apart. Pollyanna did not know the details. She only noticed that her aunt became especially quiet whenever she heard his name.

One autumn day, Pollyanna was hurrying home across the road. There was a sudden crash. Everything happened very quickly.

When she opened her eyes, she was already lying in her own bed. The adults spoke softly and tried to smile. But eventually the girl understood that after the accident, her legs would not obey her.

At first, she searched for something to be glad about, just as she always had.

“Maybe it won’t last long? Maybe the doctor will think of something?”

But one day she accidentally overheard a conversation and realized the doctors were not certain she would ever walk again.

Then the game stopped working.

Pollyanna turned toward the wall.

“I can’t find anything to be glad about,” she whispered.

And that was when something happened that she had not expected.

People began coming to the house. Mrs. Snow sent word that she had learned to notice good days even when she was in pain. Mr. Pendleton said that because of Pollyanna, his house would never be empty again. Nancy reminded her how many times the game had helped her stop being angry at life. Other neighbors brought flowers, letters, and little notes.

Everyone wanted to say the same thing: “You helped me. Now let us help you.”

Pollyanna listened to their stories and gradually realized that her joy had not disappeared. It was simply returning to her through other people.

There was another reason for hope. Doctor Chilton knew a specialist who treated injuries like hers. But because of their old quarrel, Aunt Polly did not want Chilton in her house. When it became clear that Pollyanna’s future was at stake, pride finally stepped aside.

Doctor Chilton came.

Pollyanna was so genuinely happy to see him that, for the first time in many years, Aunt Polly looked at the doctor without seeing him through the old hurt. They began to talk, and in time they understood how much time they had lost because of silence and stubbornness.

Pollyanna was taken to a special hospital. The treatment was long. Months passed. She learned patience in a different way than before: not by finding a cheerful answer to every pain, but by taking one small step even when she could not yet see the result.

Then one day she walked from her bed to the window by herself.

Six steps.

For another person, it might have been only a few yards. For Pollyanna, it was an entire world.

She wrote to Aunt Polly and Doctor Chilton, who by then had become her uncle: “I can walk! Today I took six steps. Tomorrow I’m going to try eight.”

Pollyanna came home not because she had learned never to be sad. She knew now that there are days when sadness is real and does not need to be hidden behind a smile.

But she kept the most important part of her father’s game. Even on a difficult day, something valuable may still remain nearby: a person holding your hand, the chance to take one step, a kind memory, or an opportunity to begin again.

Sometimes you have to find joy for yourself. And sometimes it comes back to you from the people to whom you once gave it first.

Sometimes you have to find joy for yourself. And sometimes it comes back to you from the people to whom you once gave it first.