Garrison had been treasuring his last piece. All he had left now was a sheet of the beautiful brown paper Pa had brought back from his last sailing trip.
"You've been quiet," Pa said, "Could I see your picture?"
Garrison handed over his sketch. Pa studied it, then looked at his son. "You're ten now, eh?" Garrison nodded, hoping Pa wouldn't say that he was too old to be fooling around with pencils and paper.
"When I was ten, I wanted to work on my father's ship," Pa said, "When Thomas was ten, he asked me to let him plant the corn."
Garrison's throat (嗓子) tightened. "I know I'm not like either of you." Pa looked at the drawing again.
"No, you are like both of us. You work hard, like Thomas. And you're like me, too. I have wandering feet, but you have a wandering mind. We need to see things differently.
Garrison frowned. "I'd rather love the land, like Thomas, or the sea…"
Pa patted his hand. "Thomas cares about our family very much-that's why he's worked so hard to bring us food. And my love for the sea makes good money. But there's more in life than food and money. There's happiness, for one. Does it make you happy to draw?"
Garrison nodded.
"And it makes me happy to look at your drawings. Not many folks can catch happiness on a piece of paper. Some might say drawing's a waste of time, but they don't understand how things are. Why, asking you to stop drawing like asking Thomas to stop farming, or me to stop going to sea. It would be like asking us to stop breathing, wouldn't it?"
Garrison considered this, then replied, "No, sir. Not quite like breathing. If I couldn't draw any more, it would be… like someone took away my voice." He hung his head. In his mind he could hear Thomas laughing, "It's not like you ever speak up, anyway."
But Pa patted his shoulder and said, "That would be a pure shame. Your voice is important, Garrison, whether it's out loud or on paper. And speaking of paper…" Pa smiled. "Take a look in my bag."
Garrison reached into the bag and found a sketchbook. For a moment he was speechless happiness seemed to fill his body and stick in his throat. Then he managed to find his voice. "Oh, Pa-thank you."
