all of a sudden, an idea flashed through his mind. “Yes,
Mr. Skelly,” he said resolutely. “For a homework assignment during vacation, our teacher asked us to do some research.”
“Research?” asked Jack, curious. “What kind of research?”
“Well, she wants us to ask different people a specific question, and then write the answers in a notebook.” Mark was fully
aware he was telling a lie, but, after all, it was just a white lie. In other words, he was lying, but he wasn’t hurting anyone.
As Grampa Gus often said, white lies helpyou to help others, to hide a truth better left unrevealed. After all, white lies help you ward off the black lies, the worst
lies—the ones that are so bad, they parch your throat when you say them.
Jack smiled and scratched his head. “Well, if I can be of any help, I’m glad to oblige.” He chuckled. “Even if I’m only a
poor merchant and not a rocket scientist.”
The boy laughed in turn. “The question is very easy. If someone gave you a snowflake, what would you do with it?”
Mr. Skelly remained perplexed for a moment. “A snowflake?” he finally asked.
“Yes.”
He scratched his head once again. “It would be a rather strange gift. But let me think….” A few minutes passed, then he said,
“Well, I believe I would put it inside a tin can with a beautiful label.”
Mark thought he had misunderstood. Or maybe he just didn’t want to believe his ears. “You mean you would… you would sell it?”
“Of course!” replied the man, with glee. “Otherwise, I would have no idea what to dowith it. But some of my customers might appreciate it. If I was successful in selling the first can, I would make many more.
During a snowfall, I would collect a whole pile of snowflakes, put them in cans, and continue to sell them. Not a bad idea
at all. I can already picture the writing on the label: JACK SKELLY’S GENUINE SNOWFLAKES! NO ARTIFICIAL COLORING OR PRESERVATIVES! STORE IN A COOL PLACE! BEWARE OF IMITATIONS! ”
Mark was overcome by the desire to get out of the store. He came up with an excuse for why he had to go, and he left Mr. Skelly
to his cans of corn. Walking down Spring Valley’s main street, he brooded, muttering to himself. Or maybe he was talking to
the little voice—he could no longer be sure. “Put a snowflake in a can? How could someone even think of such nonsense? It
would be like putting a robin in a cage, or trying to catch a rainbow, or stealing the pure mountain air and putting it in
a spray can! Snow is beautiful because it flies free in the sky, carried along by air currents. The person who deserves my
snowflake must understand these things.”
Dr. Lands
A thin, bald man with thick eyeglasses greeted Mark with a strong handshake. “Well, my friend, I hope you haven’t come because
of anything serious. Even if it’s only a bump on your behind, for example. Something so simple can still be a big pain!” And
he laughed heartily.
Mark looked around him. The wall was decorated with a picture of a skeleton and a NO SMOKING sign. The office was empty. Dr.
Lands scheduled almost all of his appointments in themorning, and during the afternoon only a few patients stopped in.
“No thanks, I feel great. I only wanted to ask you a question….” Mark told him about his assignment, trying his hardest to
be convincing. This time, he was talking to a doctor, not a simpleton like Mr. Skelly. He sincerely hoped that the doctor’s
response would be the right one.
The doctor let Mark finish his explanation, cleaned his glasses with a corner of his lab coat, then said, “It seems to me
to be a very interesting question.” His bald head shone with the brightness of a lamp; perhaps it lighted up like that when
he got an idea. “The first thing I would do is put the snowflake on a glass slide and study it under the microscope.”
“But it would melt!” Mark objected. Already things hadn’t gotten off
Mr. Skelly,” he said resolutely. “For a homework assignment during vacation, our teacher asked us to do some research.”
“Research?” asked Jack, curious. “What kind of research?”
“Well, she wants us to ask different people a specific question, and then write the answers in a notebook.” Mark was fully
aware he was telling a lie, but, after all, it was just a white lie. In other words, he was lying, but he wasn’t hurting anyone.
As Grampa Gus often said, white lies helpyou to help others, to hide a truth better left unrevealed. After all, white lies help you ward off the black lies, the worst
lies—the ones that are so bad, they parch your throat when you say them.
Jack smiled and scratched his head. “Well, if I can be of any help, I’m glad to oblige.” He chuckled. “Even if I’m only a
poor merchant and not a rocket scientist.”
The boy laughed in turn. “The question is very easy. If someone gave you a snowflake, what would you do with it?”
Mr. Skelly remained perplexed for a moment. “A snowflake?” he finally asked.
“Yes.”
He scratched his head once again. “It would be a rather strange gift. But let me think….” A few minutes passed, then he said,
“Well, I believe I would put it inside a tin can with a beautiful label.”
Mark thought he had misunderstood. Or maybe he just didn’t want to believe his ears. “You mean you would… you would sell it?”
“Of course!” replied the man, with glee. “Otherwise, I would have no idea what to dowith it. But some of my customers might appreciate it. If I was successful in selling the first can, I would make many more.
During a snowfall, I would collect a whole pile of snowflakes, put them in cans, and continue to sell them. Not a bad idea
at all. I can already picture the writing on the label: JACK SKELLY’S GENUINE SNOWFLAKES! NO ARTIFICIAL COLORING OR PRESERVATIVES! STORE IN A COOL PLACE! BEWARE OF IMITATIONS! ”
Mark was overcome by the desire to get out of the store. He came up with an excuse for why he had to go, and he left Mr. Skelly
to his cans of corn. Walking down Spring Valley’s main street, he brooded, muttering to himself. Or maybe he was talking to
the little voice—he could no longer be sure. “Put a snowflake in a can? How could someone even think of such nonsense? It
would be like putting a robin in a cage, or trying to catch a rainbow, or stealing the pure mountain air and putting it in
a spray can! Snow is beautiful because it flies free in the sky, carried along by air currents. The person who deserves my
snowflake must understand these things.”
Dr. Lands
A thin, bald man with thick eyeglasses greeted Mark with a strong handshake. “Well, my friend, I hope you haven’t come because
of anything serious. Even if it’s only a bump on your behind, for example. Something so simple can still be a big pain!” And
he laughed heartily.
Mark looked around him. The wall was decorated with a picture of a skeleton and a NO SMOKING sign. The office was empty. Dr.
Lands scheduled almost all of his appointments in themorning, and during the afternoon only a few patients stopped in.
“No thanks, I feel great. I only wanted to ask you a question….” Mark told him about his assignment, trying his hardest to
be convincing. This time, he was talking to a doctor, not a simpleton like Mr. Skelly. He sincerely hoped that the doctor’s
response would be the right one.
The doctor let Mark finish his explanation, cleaned his glasses with a corner of his lab coat, then said, “It seems to me
to be a very interesting question.” His bald head shone with the brightness of a lamp; perhaps it lighted up like that when
he got an idea. “The first thing I would do is put the snowflake on a glass slide and study it under the microscope.”
“But it would melt!” Mark objected. Already things hadn’t gotten off
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