The Emma Dilemma

MONDAY

Emma was very good at helping with chores on the farm. Her daddy had taught her how to feed the sheep out at the barn in the cold weather. When she poured out the measures of golden grain, the big sheep came running and pushing. Every day Emma had to remind them to be careful not push her sister Naomi down. Naomi looked very small beside the big wooly sheep. Naomi always wanted to help. She was not really much help with the sheep but she did help get the warm eggs out from under the hens.

After the chores were done, Emma was going to practice her skating on the frozen pond. Naomi had to go back in the house and watch out the kitchen window then. When Emma looked up the hill at the bright kitchen window she could see her little sister smiling and clapping for her.

Usually, seeing little Naomi watching from the house made Emma very happy but today Emma was not happy. She put on her skates and pushed out onto the ice but slowly came sliding to a stop. She put her hands on her hips, and a tear rolled down her cheek. "It's just not fair," Emma whispered.

What was not fair? The field was filled with clean white snow. The late sun was just thinking about turning all colors of pink and purple before setting for the day. Purple was Emma's favorite color. What was wrong that it did not make her smile today?"

A flock of crows came flying over the hillside just as they always did. Their leader looked down at the still small figure in the middle of the pond. "Uh, oh, something may be wrong," he said to his friends. "Let's go see if we can help." Down they flew.

"Hello, Emma Crow. What's the Emma dilemma?" asked a crow.

Emma did not look up. She merely muttered again, "It's not fair. All this week the other girls get to walk to the hockey arena and practice their skating for the big meet this weekend.  I have to come home on the school bus.

"So, what's the problem? Their ice can't be any nicer than this!"  The crows took turns flying circles over the smooth black ice.

"Well," said Emma reluctantly, "They've got the coach."

"Oh, is that all? You've got us."

Emma looked up for the first time, and she was surprised.

"Allow me to introduce myself, since we have not really met. I am Wherewithal Word Crow. I know you because I have often heard you talking to your dolls at your tea parties on the front lawn under the maple tree. You are very good with words, young lady."

Emma smiled in spite of herself. "Thank you," she said politely.

"Most people, you know, do not take full advantage of the wonders of words," bragged the crow. For example,Wherewithal means having just what you need to accomplish something. Often that means money, but words are worth even more than money, in my opinion. Please, by the way, I'd rather you not call me Al. Doesn't sound right at all. "

"My mommy and daddy always carefully explain any new words to us," said Emma. "I have learned all my letters and that is how you read words on paper, you know."

"That is fine for you, Emma. Being a crow, I do not use paper myself. Words are such a good way to think, but some people are not very careful with words."

 Emma put her mitten up to cover a smile because she thought the crow was talking about naughty words that people should not say. She did not want to appear rude to this crow but she thought the idea was funny.

"What I mean," said Wherewithal with great dignity, "is that people would do well to practice their words in their head before they say them out loud. If you are angry you should always take a deep breath first and then decide what to say." 

Oh, yes, Emma knew that was true. When the crow said "Practice," Emma remembered her dilemma. Practice. She looked very sad again.

Wherewithal said, "You know Emma, I have brought my friends here to help coach you. There is one of us for every day before your skating meet on Saturday.

Here is Polly Picture Crow. She prefers to be called Frame. She's cool. She will be your coach tomorrow, Tuesday. If Emma had been surprised that Walter Word Crow spoke to her in words, she was even more surprised now. Whenever Frame Picture Crow spoke, it was not words but pictures that appeared to Emma.

"I would like you to meet Harmony Music Crow." Somehow, Emma was not surprised that whenever Harmony spoke, Emma heard sounds, lovely tunes that would be just right for skating to. Walter said "Harmony will be your coach on Wednesday.

On Thursday Bro Motion Crow will be your coach, Mo to you. " Mo took a deep bow and then nipped the end of Emma's mitten. She was very surprised when he tugged her arm up above her head.

"Oh, that looks very good, Mo," Wherewithal said approvingly. Miss Emma, we will have you in good shape by Saturday." 

Emma looked at the four birds standing in a row on the ice. One two three four: Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday. What about Friday, number five? Was there a counting crow?  Before she could ask, the crows whirled into the air and Emma found herself skating in lovely circles with them, almost like crack-the-whip. Round and round, faster and faster, and then off they flew into the sunset, leaving Emma alone on the pond.

Emma felt much happier. She skated a bit more and then coasted over to the bench her dad had made under the willows. Emma sat down, took off her skates, and walked up to the house under a lovely lavender sky. 

TUESDAY

The next afternoon, Emma and Naomi once again did chores. Naomi might have noticed that Emma seemed in a bit of a rush. In no time, it seemed Naomi was packed off to the kitchen window, and Emma was down on the ice in her skates. The sky seemed very big and empty. Emma was beginning to feel small and cold and lonely when one black crow flew up, landing on her shoulder.

The bird put its head down and gently whispered in Emma's ear. Oh, yes those seemed like good ideas. In between each picture Emma had to stand perfectly quietly and pay full attention to Frame, the Picture Crow, but time after time a wonderful, colorful scene came into her mind, as lovely as any dream.

Emma was especially pleased that Frame had shown her how to make perfect Three turns, with each loop exactly the same. Figure skating judges would like that very much. 

Emma's mother called from the house. Emma came stamping into the warm kitchen with very red cheeks, shining eyes and a secret smile. She could hardly wait to help clear the table after supper and finish her homework so she could talk with her mother about her skating costume. She loved the idea for the star which Frame had showed her.

WEDNESDAY

Emma was very impatient, waiting for the school bus to make its way down the snowy lanes to bring the children home from school. Naomi was waiting at the kitchen door with the pail for the eggs.

In no time Emma was down on the pond, skating in circles and looking for crows.

She was not surprised when Harmony Music Crow landed on her shoulder. To tell the truth, she could not tell which crow it was by looking, because to her eye they all still looked exactly alike. But, as soon as she heard the sweet humming in her ear, she knew just which crow was her coach for the day.

She had a lovely time skating to the music, dancing on the smooth ice. And Emma was pleased to notice, when Wherewithal Word joined them to watch the end of her lesson, that she knew even before he spoke which crow he was.

"Thank you, Wherewithal, for all the help you crows are giving me. I had a lovely time skating with you and your friends."

"Your skating does look very nice. But this is not all fun and games you know," Wherewithal said. "You don't seem to be finishing your routine just when the music comes to an end. This is a matter of timing."

This was true, Emma admitted. "I have trouble remembering all the moves and keeping them in order in my head, and I forget to listen to where we are in the music."

The Music Crow nodded sadly in agreement. She had noticed that.

"Don't you take music lessons, Emma?" asked Wherewithal after thinking a bit.

"Why, yes," said Emma. "I'm learning to play the recorder in school. I can make most of the notes now."

"Yes, yes, notes, notes, but have you learned yet to think the music?" Emma looked puzzled. Harmony hummed a few bits. "Those," said Wherewithal, "are phrases. They have musical meaning instead of word meaning. You have noticed that you can hear them when you play them on the recorder?"

"Yes," said Emma, although she had not thought of them as phrases before. "And you can hear them in your head?" Emma was less sure this time whether or not she should say yes.

Wherewithal laughed. "Most people forget that they hear music in their heads. Can you read music?"

Emma nodded yes slowly. It was as hard to learn to read the notes on the music staff as it was to learn to read words, harder in fact, but she could make the recorder toot out the proper notes.

"Well," said Wherewithal, "Are you also learning to sing the notes?"

Emma looked very surprised, "No," she admitted.

"Well, what is stopping you?" laughed Wherewithal. "All you have to do is do it,

Emma agreed.

"And," said Wherewithal, "There is one thing more. First, you should try to think the music note in your head." Emma frowned. That sounded hard.

"No, it's not hard. You just need to ask yourself to do it and take a little time try it.  Watch my wing. You sing and I will direct you." He waved his feathers just like an orchestra conductor's baton. He pointed for her to sing higher, to sing lower, to sing faster, to sing slower.

"Good girl," he said. "I have noticed that you are very good at noticing things. I knew you could learn to notice in music-thinking too."

Harmony hummed Emma's skating music. Emma noticed that, this time, she could hear the music as phrases that made sense. She skated in time with the music, and all the crows cheered. For the first time, she noticed that she now had quite a large audience. There were four deer, two coyotes and twenty-six turkeys on the bank of the pond.  They were all stamping their feet and clapping and making sounds of approval.

"Oh, one more thing," cawed Wherewithal Word Crow as Emma was unlacing her skates after her mother had called her to come for supper. Looking rather proud of himself Wherewithal said softly to Emma alone, just out of Harmony's hearing, "You know, words make a sort of music too. If you have trouble learning all of your skating tune, you can make up rhymes, a poem, that will help you remember. Off you go, now. There's a good girl".

Emma trudged up the hill, humming a little tune in her head, singing rhymes all the way into her warm house.

THURSDAY

When Emma made her way down the snowy slope to the skating pond she guessed at once who her coach for the day was to be. It must be Mo Motion Crow. There was one single black bird whirling and twirling and swooping like a jet plane through the air over the ice. It was quite cold today and the north wind set little snow devils whirling over the packed level fields and across the pond. These whirling tornados of snow seemed like three-dimensional, animated versions of the spirals Emma's skates had etched on the ice over her lesson days. 

Emma was not surprised that this crow did not say a word to her. Wherwithal Word was nowhere in sight. The acrobat crow did a few more sharp-banking turns and then came fluffing down in a heap of black feathers just beyond her skate blades. Watch out, crow! These crows, you never knew just what to expect next from them.

Still, the crow said nothing. Emma decided that she too could ride the wind and she pushed off over the ice. Humming her skating tune, she flew through her routine, gliding towards the grand finale, the special movement which she thought would surely win her a medal. It was an arabesque - at least that's what ballerinas would have called it. Ice skaters, too, put out one leg and called it...  Ouch! Suddenly Emma felt a sharp nip on her calf.

She looked around and there was that crow. It had nipped her with its beak. That wasn't nice.

Emma rubbed her leg and then pushed off again. As she started to lift her leg again, she caught sight of a black shadow: the crow was following her. This time she felt it slightly nudge her arm. As she glided along she looked back over her shoulder. Then she lifted her leg once again, keeping an eye out just in case another nip might be about to happen.

Whump. She bumped right into Wherewithal.

"Emma," he scolded her. "How do you think you can skate forward looking back over your shoulder?"

Well, that mean crow just bit me!" said Emma indignantly.

"That is Mo. He can be a bit too much sometimes," Wherewithal looked at her face to see if she thought what he said was clever. She did not seem to. "But Mo means well. He is trying to teach you where you have put your leg. It does not look pretty at all when you hang it out there in back like that."

"Really?" said Emma. "That shows what crows know. It's one of the very prettiest motions that skaters do."

"Yes, it can be very graceful when you extend your leg out in back and your arm out in front of you. But you look like a fishhook when you let your leg bend at the knee, like you were doing."

"I did?"said Emma in surprise.

"Yes, that is what Mo was trying to tell you. He let you know where your leg really was."

"I guess he did that," Emma said grudgingly. 

"I asked Mo to come today and help you with your jumps," said Wherewithal.

Now it happened that Emma was very proud of her jumps. She was a very strong little girl and when she got everything just right, she could start a very nice jump. It was much harder to land a nice jump, however. 

Over and over the little girl on the big pond skated around until she worked up good speed. If you looked very carefully, you could have seen that a flash of black feathers hung in the air right beside her. Mo gave her a nudge this way or that and then Emma would gather herself and push off into her jump.  Whenever she was balanced just right to begin the jump, she soared straight up in the air like a bird herself, and landed her jump with a smooth catch of the blade on the ice. It was one of Emma's very favorite sounds in ice skating.

Emma looked up at the kitchen and saw that little sister Naomi was looking out, clapping her small hands in delight. Emma wondered if Naomi had noticed the crow that followed her. Naomi was a pretty good noticer, so probably she had. Naomi learned a lot from watching her big sister.  

That night, Mommy asked Daddy - just before they drifted off to sleep - if he had heard the funny crow things that Emma and Naomi had been talking about after supper.

"Mmm, yes, dear. I guess I did."

"Well what do you think they mean? Emma keeps talking about the crows speaking in her ear."

"I remember that my mom had a pet crow. Crowkie was his name. He used to sleep at night right out there in the pine tree.  He liked to talk in your ear. He would ruffle his back feathers out and bend his head down low, and make the sweetest burbling noises you ever heard, right into your ear. He was really something."

"I wonder if he has grandchildren, and they still live around here," whispered Mommy.

"Mmmm," said Daddy

FRIDAY

The next day Emma worried all the way home on the school bus. It was Friday, day #5, the very day before the big skating meet. Emma was afraid that the crows might not come today. There had been only four of them the day they volunteered to coach her. And this was Day Five.

To Emma's delight, there were five black crows lined up on the willow tree, waiting for her when she came down the hill with her skates.

With a grand flourish, Wherewithal Word Crow said, "Allow me to present Harmony's brother, Howmany. Howmany thinks in numbers. Howie will be your coach today."

Howie took a deep bow, with one wing up and one wing down.

These crows, thought Emma. They think of everything! But how were numbers going help her tomorrow in the big contest? 

I know what you are thinking, said Wherewithal. And he did. "I do not think you have managed to learn rhymes for all of your skating tune yet, have you?"

Emma admitted that she had not.

"There is another way to keep you in time with your music" advised Wherewithal. "Count it. It's easy."

Howmany Counting Crow hopped up and began to beat out the rhythm, and Emma began to say her numbers, one, two, three, four, five, six...

"No, no! Stop. I am sorry. I meant that music can be thought of in small measures of numbers. One, two and three; one, two and three."

As Wherewithal Word spoke the numbers which Howie beat, Harmony hummed out the tune. Frame and Mo Motion stood together like a pair of ball room dancers, a couple about to waltz. They cocked their heads, listening to the music for a phrase or two, and then off they whirled. Oh, it was beautiful. Emma launched out in a skating glide and held up her arm for Wherewithal to settle lightly on it. Then the two of them waltzed across the ice as well. Emma had never skated as well in all her life.

One, two, and three; one, two and three.

With a lovely scrunch of the ice Emma dug in her skate blades and halted for a final bow.

While she caught her breath, Wherewithal whispered a few more words in her ear. "You know, Emma, you can always use counting. Whenever you are nervous or afraid, just count your breaths. Breathe in and out, one and two.  Picture me on your shoulder - and all of the helpful coaches in your life. We will all come and help you out, whenever you need it. Just call us by counting your breaths.

"Now, off you go, up to supper and homework and a good sleep. Tomorrow's a big day for you. Sweet dreams, Emma. Don't forget what I said about counting your breaths. Try it tonight as you go to sleep, and we will all be there to send you off to very sweet dreams."

The sunset was bright gold with great bars of deep purple. Thank you, thank you, thank you, whispered Emma all the way up the hill.

That night, just as Emma and Naomi had put on their nightgowns and crawled into their cozy beds and been kissed good night, Daddy looked out their window at the dark skeleton branches of the butternut tree.

"Will you look at that," he said with wonder. The tree is filled with roosting crows."

"Yes, Daddy. They promised. Goodnight", murmured Emma happily. "Sweet dreams." 

SATURDAY

Mommies and daddies and big sisters and little sisters and big brothers and little brothers were all headed into the big arena. Today was the big day, the regional figure-skating meet. There was much laughter and not a little anxious conversation as families gathered and chose seats. Nervous skaters were sent off to dress with their army of helpers to fix their hair, adjust their costumes, and generally try to calm the skaters. Thunk, thunk, thunk, the skaters walked up and down the halls.

When Emma's turn came, she skated out to the center of the ice and waited for the music to begin. In the middle of the very large rink she looked like a very small girl. Two bright spotlights met on the ice, making a ring of light just where she stood.

You could see that Emma wore a lovely purple skating dress. And there was a small fluffy purple feather tucked into her blond curls which were pinned neatly back with a purple ribbon.  The spotlights twinkled on a silver star of sequins Emma's mother had sewn onto the right shoulder of her costume. It almost seemed as if a silvery glow perched there.

Emma held out her slender arms like purple flowers and waited for the music to begin. You could not see it, but she was counting, one, two and three, one, two and three, as the first notes filled the arena.  You could see her smile as she pushed off into her routine. She moved perfectly in time with the music. How she danced! Her skates traced perfect loops of turns in one corner of the big rink and then another. As Emma quickly skated the length of the big rink, the spotlights seemed to be playing tag with her. The light on the shoulder of her costume fairly sparkled and glowed. And her smile glowed. The audience began to clap in time with the music as she gathered speed for her final jump and spin. 

The judges noticed the confidence with which the little girl gathered herself for her jump. With perfect balance she sprang high into the air, twirling until she landed with a gentle catch on one strong ankle. Perfect! Naomi, sitting atop her father's shoulders, led the entire crowd in clapping.

As the music came to an end, the little girl in purple held one arm gently out in front of her and raised her leg ever so surely and gracefully behind her to coast the length of the area in an elegant arabesque. The music died away just as Emma coasted like magic, gently as a whisper, to the end of her program. The star on her shoulder glittered and the spotlights went out.

Naomi leaned her head against her father's head and whispered into his ear, "Emma says when I get bigger, the crows are going to teach me too."

He didn't really understand, but he smiled. Naomi was always saying such funny things.

Emma smiled happily and bowed.

The End.   

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