A Picture for Harold's Room

A Picture for Harold’s Room 

“I want a picture to put on my wall,” said Harold. 

“He drew a house with his purple crayon.” 

More houses made a little town. It was far away. 

The town had woods and hills around it. 
And it was at the end of a long road. 

“It will look pretty in the moonlight,” said Harold. 
And he stepped up into the picture to draw the moon. 

He looked down at the house. “I am a GIANT!” he said. 
But a giant would scare all the people in town. 

“It is good no one woke up and saw me,” said Harold. 
He walked over the hills. “How big I am!” he said. 

Harold’s head was above the clouds. 
With a few steps he came to the end of the land. 

And at the end of any land there is water. 
“It is the sea,” said Harold. “There are sea gulls.” 

Harold was big enough to walk through the sea. 
A great big ship went by. It was an ocean liner. 

A big whale came up in the waves, spouting water. 
And just ahead of Harold was an old sailing ship. 

He easily caught up with it and passed it. 
The sea ended against a steep hill. 

Harold needed some rocks to step on. 
He climbed out of the sea and onto the hill. 

Then he saw that the ship was too near the rocks. 
He put up a lighthouse to show the sailors. 

And he went on his way over high mountains. 
Harold was taller than the highest mountain. 

“I am higher than anything!” he said. 
Then, suddenly, he thought of airplanes. 

Harold ducked his head just in time. 
It was a big jet plane, flying very fast. 

There might have been a bad accident. 
Harold found a low place in the mountains. 

It was a good place for a railroad to go through. 
It came out onto a long flat field. 

Harold put some birds and flowers near the tracks. 
“People like to see things from trains,” he said. 

He went on, drawing tracks and birds and flowers. 
And he had to keep looking out for trains. 

It was a big job for a small boy. 
And all of a sudden he saw how small he had become. 

He was half the size of a daisy! 
He was smaller than a bird! How would he get home? 

He could not wade home through the ocean. 
He could not climb those high mountains. 

And, just then, he fell into a mouse hole. 
“Excuse me,” he said to the mouse. 

Then Harold sat down on a pebble to think. 
After a minute or two he stood up again. 

“This is only a picture!” he said. 
And he took his crayon and he crossed it out. 

“I am not big or little. I am my usual size!”  
But how could he be sure about that? 

At home he was always his usual size. 
So he drew the door of his room. 

There was a long mirror on the back of the door. 
“Yes,” said Harold. “I am my usual size.” 

He was glad to be back in his room. He was tired. 
But he had no picture to hang on his wall. 

So, before he went to bed, he drew another picture.