The Mouse and the Monster

The Mouse and the Monster

part 1

Poppet is my name. It’s not really even a name but a term of endearment; but my parents could never come to call me anything else. I am the youngest mouse in my family and severely doted on. 

I will always look fondly on the times I spent with my family, sharing a room with my sisters, eating breakfast at our huge oak table, playing games with Newton and Tanner by the stream. It really was a wonderful life back then. Mother’s friends always oohed and aahed over my perfect whiskers and big brown eyes. 

Life is really not so lovely now. The mice at the market always look at me funny when I introduce myself as Poppet and I feel like everyone is staring at me. I used to like it when people stared, now I feel funny when someone looks my way, like I am a monster sticking out among all the other mice. I’ve tried to blend in, but you can always tell a monster no matter how good a disguise it wears. Even my friends have all eventually drifted away - choosing more popular and fun friends than me. I had a couple of friends who were like one of the family. Now I feel like they are more apart of my family than I am. 

I do enjoy the time I get to spend knitting mittens, but honestly even that has gotten kind of old. I think my sister Marcy only uses them because she feel bad for me, and of course because she needs them for all of her children. Marcy is so lucky to have the family she does. I could never run such a happy home. So many bunnies to look after, it would be a disaster. Although I used to enjoy watching her children, it’s really just way too much for me now. 

Last time we were at a family reunion one of Dad’s brothers called me fat, I can’t believe people are so uncaring, the same people who used to line up to look at me are now calling me names behind my back. I’m not fat I just like a little bit of comfort food now and then. I work at a desk and really don’t have a chance to exercise. Why are people so unkind?

Honestly, I often think of moving away and getting away from my past. People are always comparing me to the baby Poppet, and I just can’t live up to that. 

I’m so lonely. 

part 2

I have a little sister who’s name is Poppet. No, it’s not really a name, just a term of endearment, but our parents could never come to call her anything else. Poppet is the youngest mouse in our family and I’m afraid we severely doted on her. We all love her so. I shared a room with her and the rest of our sisters. I remember her sitting in the highchair at the end of our huge oak table at breakfast time. She was always giggling and happy. She loved to play with our bothers Newton and Tanner by the stream. They always took such good care of her. We all really had a wonderful life back then. I remember one day in particular when two or three of mothers friends were oohing and aahing over Poppets long whiskers and big brown eyes; she was truly the prettiest baby of us all. 

I’ve been really concerned for Poppet lately. She has chosen a path that really is not so lovely now. She complains about the name she once loved and was proud of, she pulls away from people instead of reaching out to them like she used to do. she has even stopped reaching out to her friends, allowing their relationships to drift apart, she says it’s their fault, that they’re looking for more popular and fun people than her, but I’ve seen her neglecting them. she gave up two of her dearest friends while she was “searching for herself”. and honestly they are starting feel more like sister’s to me than Poppet does. 

I have a large and growing family, I’m so lucky to have the family I do but it takes a lot of work and discipline. I get tired out a lot. Poppet always knits mittens for my family at Christmas. it’s the best present I could ask for. They are so warm. I could never afford to buy that quality of mitten for my whole family. I also love it when Poppet comes to help me with the bunnies. I see the old Poppet I used to know flare up with smiles and laughter. But now she says she doesn’t have time. It hurts me to see her step away from her nieces and nephews. They love her so much. I see her drifting away to some unknown world. A world where no happiness or laughter exists. 

 Poppet overheard Uncle Barnaby call her plump at the last family reunion and I agree he had no right to say such a thing, but Poppet refuses to forgive him or even talk to him. She has become very unforgiving and trusts no one. She acts like we are all monsters out to get her.  It’s not the plumpness that bothers me, it’s the replacement of friends with food. 

Sometimes I wonder if we compare her too often with the baby Poppet we all loved. She acts like she just want to get away from us all. 

I think she is very lonely.

Who lives inside of you; a mouse meek and quiet, yet strong and giving? Or a monster pushed into mousey skin covered over with a plastic smile being eaten by microscopic ME bugs. 

Joel 2:13

and rend your hearts and not your garments.” Return to the Lord your God, for he is gracious and merciful, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love;