Always Remember You Are Special


"The Wemmicks were small wooden people. All of the wooden people were carved by a woodworker named Eli.

Each Wemmick was different. Some had big noses, others had large eyes. Some were tall and others were short. Some wore hats, others wore coats. But all were made by the same carver and all lived in the village.

All day, everyday the Wemmicks did the same thing; they gave each other stickers. Each Wemmick had a box of golden star stickers and a box of gray dot stickers. People spent their days sticking stars and dots on one another.

The pretty ones, talented ones always got stars, but if the wood was rough or the paint chipped they got dots.

Some Wemmicks had stars all over them. Others, though could do little. They got dots.

Punchinello was one of these. He tried to jump, but fell. He got dots. When he fell his wood got scratched, he got more dots. He had so many dots he didn't want to go outside. He was afraid he would do something dumb such as forget his hat or step in the water, and then people would give him another dot. In fact, he had so many gray dots that some people would come up and give him one for no reason at all.

"He deserves lots of dots," the wooden people would agree with one another. "He's not a good wooden person." After a while Puchinello believed them. "I'm not a good Wemmick," he would say.

One day he met a Wemmick who was unlike any he'd ever met. She had no dots or stars. Her name was Lucia. It wasn't that people didn't try to give her stickers; it's just that the stickers didn't stick.

Punchinello asked the stickerless Wemmick how she did it. "It's easy," Lucia replied. "Every day I go to see Eli, the woodcarver, I sit in the workshop with him."

Punchinello decided to go visit him. "Punchinello! How good to see you. Come and let me have a look." Punchinello turned slowly and looked at the large bearded craftsman. "You know my name?" the little Wemmick asked. "Of course I do. I made you."

Eli stooped down and picked him up and set him on the bench. "Hmmm," the maker spoke thoughtfully as he looked at the gray dots. "Looks like you've been given some bad marks." "I didn't mean to, Eli. I really tried hard."

"Oh, you don't have to defend yourself to me, child. I don't care what the other Wemmicks think." "You don't?" "No, and you shouldn't either. Who are they to give stars or dots? They're Wemmicks just like you. What they think doesn't matter, Punchinello. All that matters is what I think. And I think you are pretty special."

Punchinello laughed. "Me, special? Why? I can't walk fast, I can't jump. My paint is peeling. Why do I matter to you?"

Eli looked at Punchinello, put his hands on those small wooden shoulders and spoke slowly. "Because you're mine. That's why you matter to me."

Punchinello had never had anyone look at him like this - much less his maker. He didn't know what to say.

The maker spoke softly. "The stickers only stick if they matter to you. The more you trust my love, the less you care about their stickers. You are special because I don't make mistakes."

Eli lifted Punchinello off the bench and set him on the ground. "For now, just come to see me every day and let me remind you how much I care."

As the Wemmick walked out the door, Punchinello didn't stop, but in his heart he thought, I think he really means it. And when he did, a dot fell to the ground.


If you doubt how special you are, or know someone who doesn't realize how terrific they are, I suggest you get them the book: You Are Special by Max Lucada. Since my son Tom sent me this lovely little book with the precious reminder its message gave me, my gray dots have started to fall away. Remember, God cherishes each of us, just as we are.