I am here today to share my life story with you. It happens to be a sad one, so you might want to get your box of tissues ready. 

Well, I began my life as a miniscule seed, smaller than you can imagine. I was planted in a land quite far away from where I am now. This mighty land, of which I used to call home, is called the Amazon.

I began to grow and grow until I was a little seedling. At this point I was being taken pretty good care of. I received plenty of water every day (sometimes a little too much for my liking, but I am not a complainer) and I enjoyed whatever sunlight I could get. Many years passed and I continued to grow taller and fatter. My skin became rougher and thicker. However, no matter how much I grew or matured, all the other trees seemed to look down upon me with a twisted smile on their face. 

Even though I was the runt of the forest, I quite enjoyed my life as a growing tree (even though, secretly, I longed for more excitement in my life). 

Then came the day, the terrible day, when my life as a living, growing tree came to an end forever. From an optimist's point of view, I guess this would be a form of excitement. Anyway, it began as any normal day would have begun, the same way it had began since I was a little seedling. I woke up early in the morning and stretched every single one of my branches, which produced a nice rustling sound. Ah -- in a way, I do long to be a tree again. 

All of a sudden, I heard a great roar of sound coming from somewhere in the forest. Shrieks of terror were occurring are all around me. Great crashes of sound could be heard from every corner. I immediately stopped my morning routine to find out what all the commotion was about, when two human men emerged from the bushes. 

This is all I remember from my last minute as a tree, for I woke up inside a large moving thing. (Later on, I found out that this is a human machine called a "semi". Honestly, you humans think of the dumbest things.) Thoughts were running through my head. "Where am I?", "Why am I not in my nice, comfy soil?", "Why are all these strangers in here with me?" and, "Who is touching my butt?". 

Before I knew it, we are all being unloaded out of the "semi" and put onto another large, scary machine. I was rudely striped of my skin, as were the others, which left me feeling very naked and uncomfortable. If you can imagine this happening to you, please do so, so that you may feel some of the pain and embarrassment that my relatives and I had go through to make you humans happy.

Soon enough after the "stripping" of my dark, textured, beautiful skin, I was moved, feeling very humiliated, onto a large thing, a bit like a treadmill. Along with many other trees of only my race, I was lead to the place where I was to be decapitated. Why do humans have to be so racist? Why do the humans wish to slaughter the cedars? If you know the answer, please contact me. Anyway, in this dreadful place I was chopped into many blocks, about the size of a shoebox. Sorry, another question: what are shoes, anyway? 

I was beginning to think the pain and the suffering was almost over. But, no, no, no! The process was long from over. Do you realize how much work goes into making a pencil? After being skinned alive, and chopped into many pieces, I was being chopped into even finer pieces! Can you believe it?

Now, with pieces of me all over the place, I was really starting to wonder what was going on in this strange place. What would you think if this happened to you? I still have terrible nightmares about my journey through the factory.

Thank goodness the painful part of this dreadful time was over! Not too much was left over from the process of making me as I am today. I was "stained" with a very stinky liquid. I guess they didn't like the color of my skin, either. After being stained, I was painted a very vivid and flaming yellow, which I actually quite enjoyed. It was so contrasting and unique at the time, and I felt very special.

A few other little touches were added on to me, which just made me feel ever more distinguished. You know that saying, "Find the silver lining"? Well, I was filled with a silver lining that day. I also received a very admirable silver and pink hat, called the eraser. My initials were printed on me in very nifty black writing. It may sound stupid, but at the time I felt very like the happiest piece of wood in the world.

This brings me to a rather dull point of my life. Therefore, I will not bore you with all the little details. I was loaded back onto a semi, along with thousands of other freshly created pencils. We travelled far and wide, each box being dropped off at a different location across Canada. I happened to be unloaded at a place that you might know as "Superstore". I spent days and months just waiting to be brought out for sale at the store. As you can imagine, there is not really much you can do when you are a pencil and you are stored in a box with many others of your kind.

Finally, after months of ceaseless waiting, it was time for us to be brought out for the public! Now, I ask myself this question, "What exactly were we waiting for? More waiting?" After waiting and waiting, it was time for... even more waiting! It took a few weeks before someone finally decided to take us to his or her home.

As you can imagine, this was a very exciting time for us pencils. A new home and new people to meet would be waiting for us! The pencils who I had come to call my friends and I arrived at the house of Timmy, whom we would call our owner for the time being.

The date was September 8th, which was Timmy's first day of the third grade. I remember that day clearly. The teacher introduced herself to the class and asked her students to take out a fresh pencil to begin the day. I, being the lucky pencil that I am, was the first one chosen from the box.

I got to know Timmy throughout the next month or so. He used me for everything from mathematics to doodling. We also became friends... or so I thought!

One day, while just minding my own business on the desktop, Timmy rudely grabbed me and threw me out the window! Like I was a piece of garbage or something! Maybe it was because I had shrunk with old age. To tell you the truth, I don't really know why I was thrown away.

This was definitely not a pleasant feeling, to be falling through the air at top speed. I landed with a thud in a nearby bush. I began to wonder if humans were just against anything that was made of wood. You would think that your own friend would at least give you a pleasant goodbye before they threw you out of the window!

In the next few days, I began to feel as though I was invisible. I would shout and scream for someone to rescue me, but people would walk right by as if I didn't even exist.

Hours passed. Then a day. Then a week. I was beginning to wonder if anyone would be kind enough to help me or if I would perish altogether. Let me remind you that this story has a happy ending, of course, or else I would not be here today.

Then came the day, the wonderful day, when I received a second chance! It was an incredibly warm day during the last few days of May, when a very kind girl named Claire saved me!

I have now found a new home at a new school. I know that I am safe and sound... for the time being.