Patience and the Tiger

By Diana R. Jenkins

“What is that?”

Shirelle looked up from the chicken-wire...thing…she was working on. “It’s the tiger! Want to help?”

Rehearsal for didn’t start for a while, so I helped Shirelle dip newspaper strips into papier-maché goop and drape them onto the frame. It was a messy—and boring—job.

“Maybe I should study my lines,” I told her. I’d do anything to get out of goop duty!

I went and got a pop and talked to some friends. When rehearsal started, though, I was wishing that I actually had studied!

“Miki!” said Mr. Perez after my millionth mistake, “you need to learn your part!”

“Sorry!” But I’d already put in more time than I’d expected to when I got the role of the jungle explorer.

Mr. Perez had Shirelle come from backstage to drill me. While the rehearsal continued, we worked on the first scene until I was perfect. Which took forever!

“Now for scene 2,” said Shirelle.

I groaned. “I hate this!”

She looked puzzled. “But you have to learn your lines!”

Luckily, Mr. Perez called me just then to do the first scene. Which went great!

Afterward, Shirelle stayed to work on the tiger while I went out with friends to eat. Late that night, I started studying my script. But the words just went in my eyes, not my brain! Learning my part was so time-consuming!

The next rehearsal went fine—until we finished the first scene.

“Miki!” said Mr. Perez. “You must memorize your part!”

“There are just so many lines!” I said.

Mr. Perez sighed. “Go study, please.”

I went backstage and found Shirelle slo-o-owly wrapping a strip of newspaper around the tiger’s tail. “Help!” I cried jokingly.

She looked at the script in my hand. “You still don’t know your lines?”

“I’ve worked and worked on them!” I said. <I>Well, some,<I> I thought.

We sat on some “tree stumps” as Shirelle went over and over scene 2. Finally, I knew it by heart.

“Good!” she said. “Now scene 3!”

I moaned and “fell” off the “stump.” “Will this never end?”

“That’s the way a play is, Miki” she said. “It takes a lot of time and work.”

“All right,” I sighed.

I did better when Mr. Perez called me back. Still, as I left, he called, “Study!”

Which I meant to do. But then my cousin wanted me to go to the mall….

Just before the next day’s rehearsal, I found Shirelle backstage. “Help!” I cried, not joking. “Help me study!”

She stood up and said, “Miki, you have to put some time into learning your part! You could be really good if you only tried!”

“Hey, I’m trying!” I said angrily. “My part is hard to learn!”

She frowned. “It is hard, but you’re not really trying! A play takes a lot of work—and patience! You have to really stick with it!”

“Thanks for your support!” I shouted. “Don’t bother helping me any more!” As I spun around to leave, I tripped over the tiger, knocking him down and putting my foot into his side!

Shirelle just stared at me as I disentangled myself. “I didn’t mean to do that!” I said.

Wordlessly, she set the tiger up and examined his injury. I felt terrible about the tiger’s smashed-in side, especially when I realized that Shirelle was ready to cry. “I’m sorry,” I said. Then before I could say anything else, Mr. Perez called me onstage.

It was my worst performance ever! I kept thinking about Shirelle and all the hours of patient, careful work she had put into that tiger.

When Mr. Perez made me sit down and “Study!!” I opened my script, but I didn’t see it. I was remembering what Shirelle had said about the way I wasn’t really trying. She was so right! I hadn’t knocked myself out. Shirelle had put way more effort into her tiger! And what about the times she’d practiced with me so patiently?

I slipped backstage and found Shirelle laying newspaper strips over the big dent in the tiger’s side. She was doing it carefully, even though it was going to take a long time to build that spot back up.

“Shirelle, I’m really sorry about the tiger. And I’m sorry for yelling.” I swallowed hard. “You were right. And I’m going to do everything I can to make this play a success. No matter how much work it takes!”

Finally, she looked at me. “That’d be great!”

“So, can I help you with this?” I asked, pointing to the poor tiger.

“You’d better study your lines first.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” I said.

“I know,” she replied with a smile. “Anyway, you can help me later. With that!” She pointed to a big, chicken-wire…thing…over by the palm trees.

I started to ask, “What is that?” Then I recognized the rounded back and lo-o-ong nose….

“Oh. Sure!” I squeaked.

Then I said a big, elephant-sized prayer for patience!