"My colour pencils are too short and I can't sharpen them anymore."
A tear rolled down my cheeks and a sob escaped my lips.
Short colour pencils. Missing colours. How can anyone let a child suffer short colour pencils and missing colours from a set. Nobody cares about me!
The following night, my father returned home from work with ten new boxes of colour pencils. They were bundled up with a single rubber band.
"Here," he said. "I don't want to hear nor see you cry over missing or short colour pencils ever again."
What a lucky girl I am, I thought. Who else in this whole wide world would have ten brand new colour pencils at once.
I beamed happily. A wide smile was plastered onto my face while my little heart grew with so much love for my generous and loving father.
Lucky, lucky me, I thought.
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