Crooked the Spider led a downright dangerous life. She ducked and weaved her web through the atrocities and joys of life outside and inside. One destination may be a sunny paradise, and the next a tunnel filled with ill forgotten dead mice. Crooked was not discerning about where she placed her web, for anywhere would do, to allow her to rest her weary head. For obsessively she was bound to self-creativity, sharing her artistry of weaving to anyone who’d like to look and see. She was proud of her efforts, for her webs always looked glorious, the midnight sheen of pre-dew, glowing in the perfect moonlit scene to be viewed. Her mother would have been utterly delighted of her daughter, if only she were reachable, but wouldn’t you know her, a loving mother she was glancing down from Spider Heaven, viewing Crooked’s daily cause.
Crooked was not fond of trapping other insects and debris inside her web, for she preferred to keep them away, safe and sound, and her web would be where she’d be gently tucking herself into bed. She was not prone to violence, and she disliked other insects’ deaths being slow and paining, she was, in fact, a vegetarian, a worthy cause and for others it was worth knowing.
Crooked the Spider was upheld in the eyes of the community, glorified and appreciated and accepted. She was acknowledged for her work with “Free the Flies”, an initiative where wayward flies living on the streets could get back on their flights with refreshed wings, and “Feeding the Homeless Moths”, an affair she partook in two nights a week where she fed the starving residents of the streets their fill, more than enough to eat. And “Walk with Sam”, a fundraising event where insects with a terminal disease walked five kilometers, in the name of Sam who passed from cancer at age three, they would raise much funding each year, delighted the runners were when the funds were counted, notes stacked to be seen. The proceeds would go towards research for terminal diseases, and refurbishing of the children’s hospital in town, where the ill children could play upon the playgrounds and trampolines as much as they wished and pleased.
In short, Crooked the Spider was a very noble insect, she was caring, loving, and selfless, she wanted to make the world better, and each day she took this as a test. To improve the lives of others, to be selfless in herself, her actions assured, to make a difference in anyone’s life, with even a simple wave or a smile. Over time, her endeavours grew and grew, that she no longer had time to aimlessly create webs for herself alone, this was more than true, she was spending mostly all of her time volunteering and being a better individual, that she thought: Enough was enough! She would do this fulltime. Such work gave her satisfied tingles. To know she was making a difference in others’ lives, what a special goal that was to hold inside.
Slowly, slowly, then quicker, she began to be noticed for her altruistic work, when suddenly, one day in the mail, she opened an unmarked envelope and what was inside? A nomination for her, for Young Altruistic Australian of the Year, why, she was abashed, modest, how could she be, little old her, acknowledged for the work which gave her great happiness, when others must surely be doing much more than her? She was humbled, she was breathless, she needed to catch her breath and sit down, she was amazed, who had nominated her? In truth, it was unessential to know. But she felt important, appreciated, that someone had acknowledged her work and worth, that of the community she had a long standing admiration, perhaps this nomination was the result of her true life’s work.
And on the 15th of August, she will take the podium, and accept the prize, with streaming tears, as she bumbles through the speech she has hastily prepared for them. She hadn’t expected to win, only the honour of being nominated was more than enough, she looks upon the crowd, eyes searching for her passed mother, oh, wouldn’t she be so proud, absolutely chuffed.
© 2019 Alice Well Art, Lauren M. Hancock, also known as Alice Well. All rights reserved.
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