The Rocks Like a Baby in the Cradle

Nearly 10 o’clock. Jimmy Jones stared at his 5th grade homework assignment. 

“Write a short story using the title: It Rocks Like a Baby in the Cradle.”

Oh crap, why did I wait so late again?

He put his pen to paper and began to write:

The Rocks Like a Baby in the Cradle

By the firelight of a moonless evening, the mother puts her baby in the cradle.

She gently rocks it, and coos. She soon falls asleep.

A rock moves. Then another. Inching closer. Closer…

By the light of early morning, the fire is embers.  

The mother wakes, and peers inside the silent cradle.   

She screams.

The only thing inside the cradle is a pile of rocks.

*****

Jimmy put down his pen and reviewed what he wrote. Short but done. He went to bed. 

He woke the next morning, glanced at his story and froze.

The Rocks Like a Baby in the Cradle

The rocks?

He read the assigned title again.

It Rocks Like a Baby in the Cradle.

Oh no.

It was due today. Too late to fix. He groaned. Probably get an F now.

A couple of hours later in English class, Jimmy turned it in, then opened his textbook to work on his assignment for the period. 

The teacher, Mrs. Harmon,  sat at the desk with a red pen in her hand and read the stories. 

Before the end of class, she passed the graded stories one by one, her bright red pen marks glaring from each page.  “Good,” she said to Jane. “I like this story” she told Tommy. “Very interesting” she said, nodding at Kim. 

Jimmy anxiously watched the stack in her hand shrink until she had only one.

She walked to Jimmy’s desk and his heart sank. She saved the worst for last. His.

“Class, I want to point out something about Jimmy’s story.”  

Uh-oh.  

“Jimmy made a mistake. He used the wrong title for his story seed. What was the title supposed to be, class?”  

“It Rocks Like a Baby in the Cradle,” the class said in unison. 

“That is correct,” she said. “But Jimmy used the title ‘The Rocks Like a Baby in a Cradle’ instead.” 

The class laughed. Jimmy cringed. 

Mrs. Harmon caught Jimmy’s eye, then glanced around the room. Come on, lady, just give it to me already.

“Now, don’t laugh too soon, class. Today, you are all going to learn an important lesson in writing.” 

“Normally I would lower your grade for not following instructions.” She pointed to his paper. “But this…”

Jimmy’s palms were sweating. Yep, I’m getting an F. 

“You took the wrong title and went with it. You made a mistake, but turned that mistake into something creative and original. It’s a little dark, Jimmy. It’s very short. And very good.” 

She handed him the page with a big red “A” smiling at the top. “Jimmy, I would like you to read your short story to your classmates before the bell rings.”

Jimmy sheepishly rose from his chair, cleared his throat, and began to read. 

The Rocks Like a Baby in the Cradle

By the firelight of a moonless evening… 

He finished and sat in his seat as his classmates clapped and cheered. He looked at the big red A on the page and his heart swelled with pride. Why was I even worried?

The bell rang and they all filed out together talking about his story as they headed for lunch.