By Anna Lynas
Always remember that you are absolutely unique. Just like everyone else.’
Margaret Mead
It feels like your tummy is in knots. Everything’s wrong. Your head is racing and can’t stop. If you add shyness into being scared, you end up with someone whose voice is empty and can’t find a friend.
‘Ding-dong!’ rang the bell at BerryWood School. Chitter-chatter filled the corridor, as woodland animals made their way to class. All except me. I had to ask a teacher where my classroom was, but I struggled to find the words. I’m not good at talking to strangers.
When I walked to my desk I could feel a million eyes upon me. I knew they were judging my prickles, probably thinking they looked scary and threatening. All I could do was curl into my ball of prickles and shrink into my seat.
I really wish I hadn’t had to move school, but I didn’t have a choice. I had to move because of these horrible creatures called humans. They had used chainsaws louder than thunder to chop down the homes of my squirrel friends. I have never seen them since.
It’s hard moving to a new place and trying to get new friends, especially if you have prickly spikes like me. Everyone was scared of me. Everyone thought I would hurt them. Everyone, that is, except a small caterpillar called Jack.
He had tiny hairs poking out of his little brown body that looked like spikes, but were as fuzzy as a cat’s fur. When he moved, his body shimmied up and down all in one motion. It was completely unique. But I noticed that other animals sneered and sniggered.
It turned out that Jack also felt like he didn’t fit in. Just like me, he was scared and shy, but I just didn’t know at first.
That’s why when Jack tried to talk to me on my first day, I now realise he must’ve been really brave to use his voice. But, at that moment, I just couldn’t respond. My own mouth was empty of words.
It wasn’t until the next day I realised what Jack had done and what having a friend truly meant. When he tried again to talk to me, his words changed it all. “Your prickles look amazing”, Jack said. I gasped. My prickles? Me? “They do?” I questioned in shock; Jack nodded. That meant everything. No one had ever complimented me on them before. Maybe my prickles weren’t so scary after all. Maybe they just made me unique.
The most amazing part of being Jack’s friend was seeing his transformation. When Jack came out of his cocoon he became a Northern Brown Argus. In fact, he became the rarest butterfly in Scotland. But to me, he was always the most beautiful creature I’d ever seen. To me, he was my unique friend, Jack.
And his best friend was prickly, little, unique me, because I’m a hedgehog as friendly as can be.