A little tad once said to me,
“My friend’s as fat as he can be.”
Then I said, ”You should not say that;
He doesn’t like to be called fat.”
“You don’t say wide or even stout,
Or say that he has sure filled out.”
For even from a little tad,
To be called fat can make him sad.
Well, he again brought up the fat,
Said “No one is as fat as that.”
And, so to prove that wasn’t right,
I told of Ozhmagronzer’s plight.
You’ve heard of ‘getting the big head’;
He got big just this way instead.
Although I think his name was Fred,
In a haughty voice he said,
“Fred’s too common; it’s too plain.
Ozhmagronzer is my name.”
His life was fine in every way,
And what was not, he didn’t say.
His house was fine; his yard was neat;
He didn’t track mud on his feet.
So things appeared just as they should;
Mr. Ozhmagronzer sure looked good.
He talked about his membership,.
In exclusive clubs, famed names let slip.
Instead of friends, “I’m best.” He said.
It seemed he had a larger head.
He talked of always being right,
And soon his clothes got very tight.
As time passed his size still increased;
He would not admit he wasn’t pleased.
His friends began to be afraid
To ask him home; such fuss he made.
When they mentioned size, he’d shout,
“You’re wrong; you’re foolish; just stay out!”
But it made him very sad;
His good things could not make him glad
Soon, he could not get out the door,
And still he puffed up more and more.
Through windows he began to swell.
He was so large, not feeling well.
It didn’t seem he ate a lot;
He’d have to figure out just what
Made him like this; he had to think,
So crowded that he could not blink
A sudden thought came to his mind;
“I’ll do a new thing to be kind.”
As he began such things to think,
He felt thrilled,. “I’ve begun to shrink”
Then he thought how it would be fun
To do things just to get them done
He noticed then he shrunk still more;
Could possibly squeeze through the door.
The thoughts came fast, and thinking through it,
To do things because it was fun just to do it.
It may look weird and may look strange,
To do a kindness for a change.
Is how it just looks worth an ounce?
No, it’s the good it does that counts.
His size went down; he could unbend,
Then saw, “There’s room here for a friend.”
He’d find what that friend would enjoy,
To share with him, the girl or boy.
They might not care if he looked good,
If he was kind and understood.
Soon it was joy; it wasn’t hard.
He’d feed the birds out in the yard.
His parents, too, were pleased as punch;
His size had not been caused by lunch.
It wasn’t food nor fat, but pride,
Made Ozhmagronzer get so wide.
So, now we won’t call people names,
Try to look best in stuff or games.
Besides all I’ve told, there is a quirk,
And that’s just this, pride doesn’t work.
So learn from Ozhmagronzer’s ways;
It’s doing good, not looks, that pays.
©02/28/2011 Carol Morfitt