Off you go! I said, get out of here! What are you hanging about for? Mrs. Claudia Mathews slammed a big plate heaped with steaming sausage rolls onto the garden table beneath her old apple tree and shooed the neighbours scruffy boy away. Go on, off with you! When will your mother start paying attention to you, eh? Lazy little wretch!
Skinny as a rake, Johnnyno one called him by his real name anymore, everyone knew him as Grasshoppercast a quick glance at the formidable neighbour and slouched back to the steps of his own house.
The big Victorian house, split into a handful of flats, was really only half filled. There were the Potters, the Simmonses, and then the Parkersjust Maggie and Johnny.
It was the Parkers who were that half of a family: overlooked and mostly ignored unless someone needed a hand. No one thought Maggie was an important person, so there was no sense bothering with her.
Maggie had no one but her son. No husband, no parentsshe struggled along as best she could, and people eyed her with suspicion but tended to leave her alone, except when they ran Johnny off. Johnny was always called Grasshopper because of his spindly arms, long legs, and big, slightly odd head perched atop a thin little neckno one could figure out just how it managed to stay put.
Grasshopper wasnt much to look athesitant and awkward but incredibly kind. He was the sort of child who rushed to comfort a crying little one, only to be chased away by mothers who didnt want this peculiar Scarecrow lurking near their precious darlings.
It took some time before Johnny had any idea what a Scarecrow really was. Then his mum brought him a battered secondhand copy of The Wizard of Oz. The penny dropped. Thats why they called him that.
But Johnny never took offence. He figured that if the other children had read the story, as he had, theyd know the Scarecrow was clever, good-hearted, always helping others, and even ended up as the ruler of a marvelous city.
Maggie, when Johnny shared his revelation with her, saw no reason to contradict him. Why make him think worse of people than he already did? Theres quite enough meanness in the world as it is, she thought. Let him keep some of that childhood joy for a little longer
Johnnys mum loved him with her whole heart. Shed forgiven Johnnys dadwhod run out on them bothright in the hospital, holding her boy tight when the midwife whispered about him being not quite right.
Thats enough nonsense! My sons the most beautiful child in the world!
Well, if you say so. But clever, hell never be
Well see about that! Maggie stroked the babys face, sobbing hard.
For the first two years, she trailed Johnny from doctor to doctor until someone took her seriously. Shed haul him into London, clutching him wrapped up tight on old, rattling buses, ignoring the sideways looks and bracing herself against unwanted advice with a fierce snap:
You go put your own into care if you want! No? Then you can keep your advice, thank you very much! I know whats best for my boy!
By his second birthday, Johnny was nearly the same as the othersfilled out, steadier, his development caught up. Of course, he never grew into a handsome lad: his big, slightly flat head, spindly limbs, and that stubborn frailness Maggie was always fighting off with every trick that was available or affordable.
She cut back, went without, just so Johnny had the best she could give. It paid off. Soon, even the doctors stopped worrying, shaking their heads in surprise as delicate little Maggie would sweep Johnny into her arms.
There arent many mums like you around! Just look at this! He could have ended up a special casenow look at him! What a champion!
He really is amazing, isnt he?
Its you were talking about, Maggie. Youre the clever one!
But Maggie just shrugged, not understanding what the fuss was about. Isnt that what a mother is supposed to do for her child? She was simply doing the obvious.
By the time Johnny started Year One, he could read, write, and do sums, though he stammered a bita trait that sometimes cancelled out his talents.
Thank you, Johnny, thats enough for today his teacher would interrupt during reading time, passing the book quickly to another pupil.
Shed complain in the staff room that although Johnny was a good child in many ways, she couldnt bear hearing him read aloud. To Johnnys luck, she only stayed at the school for two more years before disappearing on maternity leave, and a new teacher took the class.
Mrs. Marion Iliffe was an older womansharp as ever, and loved children as much as she had at the beginning of her career. She quickly noticed what Grasshopper was all about. After a chat with Maggie, she recommended a top-notch speech therapist and asked Johnny to hand in his work in writing instead.
You write so beautifully, Johnny! Its such a pleasure to read your answers!
He absolutely glowed at her praise. Mrs. Iliffe would often read his work aloud to the class, proudly announcing what a talented pupil she had.
Maggie was moved to tears and wanted to thank Mrs. Iliffe, but the teacher gently waved her gratitude aside.
Dont be silly! Its my job! Your boys wonderful, and hell be fineyoull see!
Johnny bounded off to school every morning, earning a smirk from the neighbours.
Look at Grasshopper hopping off again! Must be time for us to get a move on too! Poor little mite, whats nature done to him? Why did it let him stick around at all?
Of course, Maggie knew exactly what people thought of her and her son, but she didnt like to argue. If God hadnt granted someone a heart, what good would it do to expect them to behave decently? No sense wasting time on it. Better to get on with something useful, like tending to the home or planting yet another rose by her front step.
The big, shared back garden, with flowerbeds beneath every window and a jumble of fruit trees at the far end, was never actually divided up. Everyone simply respected the unwritten rule that the patch at the bottom of your own front steps was yours.
Maggies bit was always the loveliest: always roses in bloom, a sprawling lilac bush, and shed paved the steps with shattered pieces of tile begged from the Community Centre manager after a renovation. Maggie had carted them home in a borrowed wheelbarrowJohnny perched in the front, proud as a king.
Whats she want with all that rubbish? the neighbours snickered.
But soon everyone was gobsmacked by the mosaic shed laid outher steps were an absolute work of art, admired far and wide.
Can you believe it? Shes made a masterpiece!
Maggie simply didnt care what they thought. The only compliment that really mattered was Johnnys:
Mum, its so lovely
Johnny would trace his finger along the patterned tiles, absolutely thrilled, and Maggies eyes would fill with tears again. Her little boy was happy. And those moments of happiness were rare enough in his life: maybe a word of praise at school or a batch of something tasty at home, with Maggie ruffling his hair and whispering how clever he was.
Johnny barely had any mateshe couldnt keep up with the boys, much preferring to read than chase after a football. The girls always steered well clearespecially if Mrs. Mathews had anything to do with it, with her three granddaughters aged five, seven, and twelve.
Dont you dare go near them! shed warn Grasshopper, shaking a fist. Theyre not for you, Sonny Jim!
What went on in that head of hers (all curls and chatter from too many perms) was anyones guess, but Maggie told Johnny to steer clear of Claudia and her granddaughters.
No point upsetting her. You never know, she might keel over!
Grasshopper agreed and stayed well awaynot just out of the blue, but always, especially if Claudia had a bee in her bonnet.
That day, Claudia was setting up for a birthday tea and caught Johnny scooting by, not even looking at the food.
Oh, Lord, Ill be called stingy now! Hold on! Claudia scowled but hurried over to Johnny with a couple of sausage rolls bundled in a napkin. Here you go! And keep out from under our feet, all right? Were having a party! Stay inside till your mums home from work, understood?
Johnny nodded, grateful, munching his treat as Claudia bustled back to her preparations; her family would soon be arriving in droves for little Sophies birthday bash. The sickly-looking, big-headed neighbour boy certainly wasnt wantedwhy frighten the kids with those goggly eyes?
Claudia would never admit it, but shed tried to talk Maggie out of keeping him years ago.
What are you thinking, Maggie? Its too much for you. You cant cope! Hell end up on the streets!
Ever seen me drunk, eh? Maggie bristled, quick with a comeback.
Doesnt matter! Hard luck like yourstheres no good coming. You never had anything, and neither will your boy. Youve no idea about being a mum; no one ever taught you. Its not fair on the childgive him a chance, give him up while you can!
How dare you! And you a mother yourself!
I raised mine on my own, so dont fret for me. Whatll you ever give him? Nothing! Think about it!
After that, Maggie stopped talking to Claudiamarching about the place with her awkward, lumpy belly and pointedly ignoring her neighbours scowls.
No need to spit venom my wayIm doing whats right. Maggie would mutter, stroking her unborn Grasshopper. Dont worry, sweetheart. No ones going to hurt you.
And through all the slings and arrows of the first eight years, Johnny never told his mum if anyone said or did anything truly cruel. He kept it to himself; if it did hurt, hed cry quietly in a corner, determined not to make his mum sad. The pain always slid off him like water off a ducks backit couldnt last. In half an hour, itd be gone, and hed just feel sorry for the strange grown-ups who didnt know any better.
It makes life so much lighter, living without grudges.
Johnny hadnt feared Mrs. Mathews in ages, but he never liked her much. When shed wag her finger and call him names, hed simply leg it. If shed ever asked what he thought, shed have been surprisedJohnny actually felt sorry for her, wasting her precious moments being angry.
And time, for Johnny, was the most valuable thing in the worldsomething you couldnt get back, couldnt buy, and couldnt swap for the shiniest sweet wrapper. But grown-ups just didnt get it.
Once, munching a sausage roll on his bedroom windowsill, Johnny watched the Mathews grandchildren and other visiting children tear around the back garden, celebrating Sophies birthday. The birthday girl flitted about like a butterfly in her best pink party dress, and Johnny couldnt help but imagine her as a fairy-tale princess.
The adults had settled around Claudias table out front, drinking and eating, while the children eventually dashed off to kick a ball by the old well at the backthere was a proper open grassy patch there.
Johnny had a hunch thats where theyd run off to, so he darted into his mums room and watched through the window as the party played on, clapping along in delight. As dusk fell, children started trickling back to the grown-ups, new games broke out, but Sophie, in her pink dress, wandered right near the welland Grasshoppers heart skipped.
He knew that place was dangerousMaggie had warned him more than once.
The timbers are rotten, and theres still water down there. Fall in, and no one will hear you! Stay well clear, do you hear me?
I promise, Mum!
He didnt see the moment Sophie lost her footing near the well and disappeared from viewhe was distracted by the boys gathered in a huddle. Then, all at once, he scanned the grass searching for that pink dress and frozeshe was gone.
Johnny shot outside in a flashone glance, and he knew: the girl wasnt at the party table either.
Why he didnt shout for help first, Johnny never really knew. He tumbled down the back steps and sprinted across the garden before Claudia, exasperated, could shout after him:
I told you to stay inside!
The other children didnt even notice what had happened. Johnny dashed to the dangerous well, spotted something pale deep below, and yelled,
Hold tight to the wall!
He lay on his belly, legs dangling over, and carefully lowered himself down, bumping over rotten beams into the darkness.
Johnny plunged into that well, knowing every second countedhe knew Sophie couldnt swim. Hed seen her splashing around fearfully at the lido, her granny barking at both of them.
Suddenly cold, fetid water closed over him. Sophie, gasping, clung to his bony shoulders the moment he reached her.
Its all right! Im here! he gripped her as his mum had taught him. Hold on, Ill shout for help!
His hands slipped over the slimy well wall, Sophie dragged him down, but he found enough air in his skinny lungs to bellow:
HELP!
He had no idea if anyone could hear him, or if hed manage to keep them both afloat till help came. But he knew this much: the odd little girl in the pink dress had to live. There wasnt enough beauty or time like this in the world.
His shouts finally reached someones ears.
Claudia, parading out with a roast goose, stopped in her tracksher eyes searched for Sophie. Her heart stopped.
Wheres Sophie?!
Everyone went into a panic as the party came apart at the seams. Johnnys voice could just be heard once or twice through the commotion:
Mum
Maggie, heading home late from work, felt a sudden urge to hurryshe skipped the shop, rushed up the high street, and ran smack into the chaos outside her home as Claudia collapsed on Maggies steps. Without pausing, Maggie darted straight to the backshed always feared the old well and had begged the council to fill it in, to no avail.
Now wasnt the time to dwell on it. She snatched the washing line from the kitchen and shouted for help.
Fortunately, one of Claudias sons-in-law was sober enough to see what needed doing, and in a thrice, he tied the rope round petite Maggie.
Maggie dropped downshe found Sophie first, limp with shock, arms and legs wound tight round her rescuer. Maggie was shaking.
But Johnny was nowhere and the darkness was suffocating. She pleaded as she never had since shed cried out to the sky giving birth to Johnny:
Please, God, not him too!
She fumbled blindly, knuckles raw. At last, her hand brushed something cold and thinshe hauled Johnny up and screamed as loud as she could:
Pull!
As they rose out of the well, she heard itso faint but real:
Mum
When Johnny came home after two weeks in hospital, he was a hero.
Sophie had recovered sooner, shaken but fine, save for a few knocks and a torn dress. Johnnys wrist was broken, his breath still shallowand yet, because his mum was there and Sophie was safe (and even visited with her parents), all Johnny felt was joy, knowing hed soon be back home with his books and favourite cat.
My dear boy, oh Godif not for you Claudia sobbed, hugging sunburnt Johnny. Anything you want, I swear!
Why? Johnny shrugged his bony shoulders. I only did what needed doing. Isnt that what a man should do?
Claudia, for once, was lost for words. She had no idea that this awkward Grasshopper of a lad would, in just a few years, steer an ambulance through shellfire to rescue wounded soldiersall without asking who was on which sideand bring comfort to the suffering, just like hed once called out for his mum
And when asked why he did it, when others turned their backs, Johnny answered simply,
Im a doctor. Someones got to help. Thats whats right.
***
You know, theres nothing more powerful than a mothers love. No matter what, Maggie loved her boy unconditionally, giving him strength to grow up kind and clever. It just goes to show: real heroism is about who you are inside.
Johnny, who was never much to look at, risked it all to save a lifeand thats what defines a person, not their appearance. His goodness and courage shone through.
Neighbours whod looked down on Maggie and Johnny had no choice but to recognise his real worthat the end of the day, prejudice crumbles when faced with true generosity and kindness. And the biggest lesson? Forgive, dont hold grudges, and always do whats right, no matter how badly others may have treated you.
As Johnny said: Im a doctor. Someone has to. Its the right thing.
Stories like this remind me, and I hope you too, that kindness and compassion always matter more than appearancesand there really is no richer treasure than a good heart.
Makes me wonder: Do you think kindness always finds a way? Have you ever seen someone, or maybe even yourself, prove that real wealth is all about whats insidenot how things look on the outside?
