Everyone assumes that Ronald is a thief. No one will trust a raccoon. They can’t see past his mask. All Ronald wants is to make one new friend, but on the first day of school, things are worse than he feared. He wonders if he’ll ever meet a friend who can see beyond his appearance. But when an unlikely friend does just that, Ronald must learn to practice what he preaches.
I received a BS in Family and Human Development from Arizona State University. Prior to staying home with my two beautiful daughters, I worked as a mentor and reading teacher to at-risk youth. I am an active member of SCBWI. I am ready to make a career writing stories that make a difference to young children for years to come. I have other completed picture book manuscripts that I would be happy to share with you upon request.
Thank you for your consideration!
I Am NOT A Thief
[Art Note: Raccoons raiding garbage cans]
Raccoons have a pretty bad rap.
But I, Ronald P. Maskin am NOT a thief.
It doesn’t matter, though. No one will give me a chance. All they can see is my mask.
Picnics are painful.
I can clear out a birthday party faster than dad clears out a garbage can.
And play dates are basically out of the question.
Today is the first day of school. Maybe things will be different there. I can make friends!
Well… I’m pretty sure I can… Right…?
“Time to go!” says Dad.
I pretend to break my paw.
I pretend to be sick.
I pretend to have amnesia.
Dad drags me out the door.
“Everything will be fine,” Mom says, giving me a big hug.
“Just show them your real self,” Dad suggests.
My lip trembles as they walk away. Why couldn’t I be a chipmunk?
As the other students file in, I square my shoulders. My real self. Right.
“Hey guys!” [Art note: Other kids run away]
I shake it off and find my desk, smiling at my neighbor. “Hi! I’m Ronald!”
He frowns. “Mrs. Mole! Can I lock my lunch in your office?”
When the girl in front of me drops her pencil, I think I finally have my moment.
“Is this yours?” [Art Note: Girl looks terrified/over reacts]
At recess, I shuffle to the farthest end of the playground, alone.I brush a tear from my cheek and trace my finger through the dirt. Everyone else seems to have a friend to play with.
No one wants to be friends with a raccoon.
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