All these little pieces–725 of them–carefully laid down one at a time into parallel rows. Slowly, we sat around the table together, just Nate and myself, and brought the bigger picture into focus. Projects like these, seem to me what childhood memories are made of. The two of us sweetly enticed on a quiet morning by a simple plan of a shark, a big tub of melting beads, and the interest in pulling off something almost too grand.
I'm certainly glad that I never tallied a bead count before we began the project, as the information might have kicked my better judgement into action.
We quickly realized our plastic base would not be big enough for the project, so we readied ourselves for an errand to the local craft store to pick up a large fuse bead base. Necessary for this project, and surely to come in handy for future endeavors.
At the store we were also lured in by a big under-the-water multi-pack of beads containing nearly every hue of blue. Thank goodness we splurged on this impulse, as part-way through our bead placement we realized that we would not have enough of a single blue for the water, or the body of the shark. We rearranged, recounted, and continued to sort every blue bead from our assorted tub. [Insert obscene amounts of patience here]
Still, we continued to come up short. Not enough shark blue, not enough water blue. Not enough.
And this is when the worst parts of me want to just throw in the towel. Certain that we are biting off a project that is way too complex for our attention span and our abilities. Reasoning with my I just want to quit thoughts, I quietly consider making a slight modification to the plan. Then I share my thought with Nate–almost hesitant–as this certainly ratchets up the project to the even-more complicated.
Maybe we should add gill openings, I suggest. His eyes alight, this boy is completely smitten obsessed with Sharks. He researched them last year, and has been writing a book to record his findings. The book led to the
Halloween costume, that led to the
Aquarium pass–incurring several visits to the shark tanks both there and at our Zoo–most recently, a trip to watch the
sharks being fed. Certain this was the solution, he remarked [practically quoting from his text]
Sharks have five, six or seven gill openings on each side! Tapering off, he continues:
But for fish, there is only one.
So here I sit, now squeezing in 5 small rows of a darker blue in the shark's slim body of beads for his gill openings. Then I lighten up his under belly, and we have enough.
Next, we are still short beads for the water. We remember the sand sharks from our numerous expeditions to the aquarium, and Nate proposes that we simply add sand to the bottom. Terrific, we are getting close. Then we decide that as the water gets deeper, so could the shade of blue. We are close to a count that will work. We are ONE SINGLE BEAD SHORT. Insert again my quitter spirit, we are now nearly 2 hours into this project since printing out the pattern.
I am quietly stewing, unwilling to pass on this give-upness spirit. I don't want my frustration to become contagious; I don't want to indicate that I no longer believe that there's enough to go around.
Teaching in some of the most challenging elementary schools of Cleveland, I have started making my lowest grades repeat a simple mantra before we get started with our printing [as the process requires both a lot of shared materials and patience]. I repeat it once, and then I ask them to join me: I know that there's enough to go around. In chorus, I hear their little voices grow larger and louder–more certain–they continue to repeat the mantra, now assured by their collective words: I know that there's enough to go around.
Air bubbles! Nate breaks my silence. Remember when we watched the sharks eating? And we saw lots of air bubbles? Let's add air bubbles, that will work! He is sure that there's enough to go around.
Carefully, I excavate out single blue beads from within the sea of water blue–trying not to upset the entire pattern, and morning's worth of effort–replacing each of them with a white air bubble bead.
And he is right, and I remember: there's enough to go around.
