There was once a little girl that thought she was the fastest kindergartener in the whole world.
She’d race the wind to class everyday.
Her blonde piggy tails would flap behind her as her over sized ladybug backpack bounced around on her smallish back.
When she got to the door to the class she’d turn around and yell,
Beat cha again! to no one in particular.
But this particular Autumn day when she walked into class, her friends challenged her.
They challenged her to a race.
She accepted this race immediately because in her head she was the fastest little girl ever.
But this wasn’t a relay like she thought.
This was a race to erase.
The rules were simple.
Her friends got two big pieces of paper and drew big black pencil marked squiggles on each white page.
The little boy that would go up against her and herself were both presented with a pink rubber eraser.
The goal was to see who erased all of it the fastest.
On the count of three she dragged her eraser across all the squiggles as fast as she could so she could finish before the little boy.
With one last drag across the smudged paper she yells,
DONE! Beat cha!
The little boy looks over and lets his shoulder sag with defeat.
Her little group of friends cheer her name and congratulate her on winning.
As she looks down on her almost clean paper, besides a smudge here or there, she sees that its relatively blank.
Immediately she begins to feel sad.
She felt bad for the little pink rubber eraser.
Half of it gone now.
Reduced to just the shards scattered on her paper.
She scraped all the rolled up little shreds and put them into a pile in the center of the blank page.
She didn’t realize the damage she had done.
She cried for destroying the helpless little eraser.
All it did was absorb big black mistakes for her.
And in turn, she rubbed the little guy out to practically nothing.
Just remnants of a perfectly whole thing, now in a million pieces.
She didn’t realize until years later that she wasn’t actually crying about her eraser that Autumn day in Kindergarten.
She cried because down the road, her life would be like that eraser.
Rubbed away to nothing over cleaning up someone else’s mistakes.
The damage done, not realized until all the little pieces of herself were just little rubber remnants scattered over a blank page.
The race to erase finally over…