Live with intention. Walk to the edge. Listen hard. Practice wellness. Play with abandon. Laugh. Choose with no regret. Appreciate your friends. Continue to learn. Do what you love. Live as if this is all there is. - Mary Anne Radmacher
What if there was a world that resided within a cloud? A place so vast and pure there is only harmony. No name calling. No tears.
What if this white puffy world - made of the most magical snowflakes - did exist?
Molly McRee believes in such a place. In fact, Molly searches every snowfall, of every winter for this land of the free. Free of pain. Free of heartache.
Eight year-old, Molly Agnes McRee lives in a small town where all the kids know her. And almost all the kids treat her terribly, picking on her wherever she goes - calling her four-eyes, Molly McRee-ree, and Mudpie Molly.
Shy, soft spoken, and awkward in stature, Molly knows she doesn’t compare to the other girls. Their hair isn’t red and curly like hers, always looking like a spaghetti mess. They have long straight hair that is smooth and blonde or brunette. And their eyes are a lovely blue or brown. Molly has a boring hazel hue, resembling the skin shade of a dirty frog.
When Molly was two years-old, she had to be fitted for glasses. It was difficult for her to see the details in things around her. Wearing specs helped her sight - making everything clear and crisp - but came at an unfortunate price. Her large, thick glasses make her look like a tarsier monkey, instigating the uncomplimentary name of four-eyes.
The Mudpie Molly derived from the nasty mind of Buddy Talbert – a neighbor of Molly’s. One day he said that she was so ugly her face looked as putrid as a mudpie. Poor Molly cried for days.
Kids are known for rhyming names with unflattering things. Molly was a victim to this bad behavior. Because she is painfully shy and quiet, some kids mistake her as not being smart, coining her Molly McRee-re.
Molly has always been different from the others. Even in ballet class. All the girls are graceful and eloquent with their pirouettes and splits. She is not.
They snicker and giggle, “Molly is a disaster area.”
Molly’s poise is very much like that of a giraffe balancing on a wire. Skinny, knobbed kneed, and terribly bow-legged, it’s a mystery as to why Mrs. Begonia, the ballet instructor, keeps Molly in the class.
If only the kids around her could see how much their cruel words pain her.
Molly’s mother is very good at lifting her spirits. They cook and bake together, and watch funny movies on the weekends. And she always reminds Molly of the swan story when Molly is down. How one day the stroppy chick blossoms into a magnificent beauty as an adult.
“Molly, you’ll become a stronger person for all the difficulties that you overcome,” her mother consoled. “I know it’s hard to understand this now. But you’ll see one day.”
One day? Molly couldn’t bear the thought of the torment lasting another week. If she has to continue to endure another unflattering remark, Molly decided that she will run away - away from the terrible unkindness around her.