Emma loved painting more than almost anything. Every afternoon, she would set up her easel by the window and lose herself in swirls of color. When she heard the town library was hosting an art show for young artists, her heart leapt with excitement.
She spent two whole weeks on her painting — a bright, swirling landscape of the meadow behind her house, full of sunflowers and butterflies and a little red barn in the distance. She was so proud of it.
On the day the accepted artists were announced, Emma rushed to the library bulletin board. She scanned the list once, then twice. Her name wasn't there.
Her stomach dropped. She walked home slowly, the world feeling a little greyer. That evening, she sat at the kitchen table, not touching her dinner. Her dad noticed. "What happened, Em?"
"My painting wasn't good enough," she said quietly. "They didn't pick me."
Her dad was quiet for a moment. Then he said, "Can I see it?" Emma brought the painting out. He looked at it for a long time. "Emma, this is beautiful. Truly."
"But they didn't choose it," she said.
"That doesn't mean it isn't beautiful," he said gently. "Sometimes things don't get chosen, and it doesn't mean they aren't wonderful. It just means someone else made a different choice that day."
Emma thought about that. The next day, she hung her painting in her bedroom, right where she could see it every morning. And she started a new one.
At the end of the year, the library hosted an open submission exhibit — no jury, just art. Emma brought three paintings. One of them was the meadow.
A little girl stopped in front of it and said, "That's my favourite one in the whole room." Emma smiled. It still was hers too.
Your thoughts have been saved and the author will love reading them.