My teacher gave us an assignment that should have been easy. “OK, class,” he said. “For the month of November, we will turn this wall into our Thanksgiving art gallery. For tonight’s homework, I want you to create a picture of one thing you’re thankful for, and we’ll hang it here.”

We were supposed to spend the last part of class figuring out an idea for our “thankful” picture. But the more I tried to think of the one perfect thing, the more panicked and puzzled became! Finally, the school bell rang, and it was time to pack up and go. “I’m going to make a picture about fishing with my grandpa,” my friend Imani said as we walked home. I told her that this project was making me nervous and that I was worried if I chose one person, everyone else felt left out.

Imani suggested that I should pick a random awesome thing instead. I was surprised and confused because I was thankful for a billion random things. How was I supposed to choose one? Imani smiled. “It’s the ‘just close your eyes’ trick.” I could write down a bunch of choices on separate pieces of paper, spread them out, close my eyes and pick one. I was still worried that I would pick the imperfect one.

“That’s the whole point,” said Imani. “There’s no perfection. Here, I’ll show you!” I followed Imani across the street to a giant tree with beautiful and attractive fallen leaves. So many leaves had fallen onto the grass that it looked like a rainbow-colored carpet. The orange one with green-and-yellow edges was incredible. Those fiery red ones were also amazing. She urged me to pick the very best leaf.

“There are too many,” I said. “It’d be impossible to find the very best.”

“Exactly!” she said. “It’s just like the thankful assignment. There are way too many choices. So just close your eyes and pick one.” I closed my eyes, picked up a leaf, opened my eyes -and we both started laughing our heads off.

Looking at the rotten and sad little leaf in my hand, I was lost in thought.

The next day in class, when appreciating our pictures on the wall, everybody had questions about mine.

I live on a farm where dogs are part of the landscape. Yet the dog I spotted didn’t quite fit in, as I moved down my driveway that chilly late February day. At first glance I thought it was my brother’s Chihuahua. But a second glance raised doubts, for I knew my brother’s little house dog was no candidate for a swift run across a yard. So I figured this unknown dog would soon find its way home, and I had tasks to do.

A few days later, while walking past the door to the back of my house, I saw the deck swing moving. Clearly, someone or something had set that swing in motion. Being home and alone that evening, the thought of an unknown presence wandering about set me on edge.

Next morning, standing directly in my front yard, biting on grass, was that tiny dog I had spotted earlier. I called my husband to take a look. But when the dog heard the front door open, she ran away for the safety of the nearby woods.

It was just a matter of time before the bad weather or the wolves would be the death of such a small and defenseless dog. We realized the poor thing must have been waiting secretly around our house for weeks. My husband and I formulated a rescue plan. We placed food and water near the deck swing. The next morning, the food and water had been consumed, so we put out more. It took several days of putting out food and water before we caught the dog in the act, and another two weeks after that before the dog felt comfortable enough to approach one of us.

One afternoon, I came home and found my husband holding out his hand while leaning forward in the deck swing. I witnessed a happy dog, tail wagging furiously and eating hot-dog pieces from my husband’s hand. The stage was set for the final part of our plan: to persuade the dog inside.

A few nights afterward, when it was pouring, I opened the door and the dog was there.

Moments later, holding the hot dog, my husband announced, “The dog is back.”

Mary Lee seemed to have everything. She was very beautiful with a wonderful figure and an attractive face. She was very rich. Her clothes were better than anyone else’s and she had more of them. Her books were always new and expensive as were her pens, school bags and bicycle. She was very clever too and without appearing to do very much work. She was always the first in all the examinations and always answered all the questions, while the rest of the class were still thinking.

With all this, or really because of all this, no one liked Mary Lee. She was too good, too clever and she was also very proud. No one was quite good enough to talk to her or to be seen with her or to be her friend. And so, with all her proud ways and riches and brains, she was lonely but she did not care because she was always the best in everything. She was like a princess in the class. She always thought that the other students kept their distance from her because she was too excellent. “Lions and tigers are always lonely, and only the weak get together,” she told herself.

As the end of term drew near, the pupils including Mary Lee began to think about the most important prize of all. This was the prize, offered by the principal, for the best essay to be written on one of two subjects: Happiness and Friendship. All the teachers and pupils paid close attention to the prize, for it was really a great honor. “I needn’t worry about that,” thought Mary Lee, as the others began to read and to think about the essay. “I shall easily win. After all, my compositions are always better than the other students’.”

“Pride goes before a fall,” they say and it certainly did in the case of poor Mary Lee.

Mary Lee suddenly realized that how silly she had been.