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An orphaned beggar of the 12th century learns the craft of a master celadon potter. 2002 Newbery Award Winner |
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GOLDSEA | ASIAN BOOKVIEW | KIDS' BOOKS
A Single Shard
by Linda Sue Park
Dell Yearling, New York, 2003, 152 pp, $5.99 (paperback)
EXCERPT:
h, Tree-ear! Have you hungered well today?" Crane-man called out as Tree-ear drew near the bridge.
The wellfed of the village greeted each other politely by saying, "Have you eaten well today?" Tree-ear and his friend turned the greeting inside out for their own little joke.
Tree-ear squeezed the bulging pouch that he wore at his waist. He had meant to hold back the good news, but the excitement spilled out of him. "Crane-man! A good thing that you greeted me so just now, for later today we will have to use the proper words!" He held the bag high. Tree-ear was delighted when Crane-man's eyes widened in surprise. He knew that Crane-man would guess at once -- only one thing could give a bag that kind of smooth fullness. Not carrot-tops or chicken bones, which protruded in odd lumps. No, the bag was filled with rice.
Crane-man raised his walking crutch in a salute.
"Come, my young friend! Tell me how you came by such a fortune -- a tale worth hearing, no doubt!"
Tree-ear had been trotting along the road on his early-morning perusal of the village rubbish heaps. Ahead of him a man carried a heavy load on a jiggeh, an open-framed backpack made of branches. On the jiggeh was a large woven-straw container, the kind commonly used to carry rice.
[CONTINUED BELOW]
Tree-ear knew that the rice must be from last year's crop, in the fields surrounding the village this season's rice had only just begun to grow. It would be many months before the rice was harvested and the poor allowed to glean the fallen grain from the bare fields. Only then would they taste the pure flavor of rice and feel its solid goodness in their bellies. Just looking at the straw box made water rush into Tree-ear's mouth.
The man had paused in the road and hoisted the wooden jiggeh higher on his back, shifting the cumbersome weight. As Tree-ear stared, rice began to trickle out of a hole in the straw box. The trickle thickened and became a stream. Oblivious, the man continued on his way.
For a few short moments Tree-ear's thoughts wrestled with one another. Tell him -- quickly! Before he loses too much rice!
No! Don't say anything -- you will be able to pick up the fallen rice after he rounds the bend...
Tree-ear made his decision. He waited until the man had reached the bend in the road, then ran to catch him.
"Honorable sir," Tree-ear said, panting and bowing. "As I walked behind you, I noticed that you are marking your path with rice!"