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A single shard
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Language
English
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Table of Contents
From the Large Print
Excerpts:
Chapter
1
"Eh, Tree-ear! Have you hungered well today?" Crane-man called out as
Tree-ear drew near the bridge.
The well-fed of the village greeted each other politely by saying,
"Have you eaten well today?" Tree-ear and his friend turned the
greeting inside out for their own little joke.
Tree-ear squeezed the bulging pouch that he wore at his waist. He had
meant to hold back the good news, but the excitement spilled out of
him. "Crane-man! A good thing that you greeted me so just now, for
later today we will have to use the proper words!" He held the bag
high. Tree-ear was delighted when Crane-man's eyes widened in
surprise.
He knew that Crane-man would guess at once
only one thing could give
a
bag that kind of smooth fullness. Not carrot-tops or chicken bones,
which protruded in odd lumps. No, the bag was filled with rice.
Crane-man raised his walking crutch in a salute. "Come, my young
friend! Tell me how you came by such a fortune
a tale worth hearing,
no
doubt!"
Tree-ear had been trotting along the road on his early-morning
perusal
of the village rubbish heaps. Ahead of him a man carried a heavy load
on a jiggeh, an open-framed backpack made of branches. On the jiggeh
was a large woven-straw container, the kind commonly used to carry
rice.
Tree-ear knew that the rice must be from last year's crop; in the
fields surrounding the village this season's rice had only just begun
to grow. It would be many months before the rice was harvested and
the
poor allowed to glean the fallen grain from the bare fields. Only
then
would they taste the pure flavor of rice andfeel its solid goodness
in
their bellies. Just looking at the straw box made water rush into
Tree-
ear's mouth.
The man had paused in the road and hoisted the wooden jiggeh higher
on
his back, shifting the cumbersome weight. As Tree-ear stared, rice
began to trickle out of a hole in the straw box. The trickle
thickened
and became a stream. Oblivious, the man continued on his way.
For a few short moments Tree-ear's thoughts wrestled with one
another.
Tell him
quickly! Before he loses too much rice!
No! Don't say anything
you will be able to pick up the fallen rice
after he rounds the bend . . .
Tree-ear made his decision. He waited until the man had reached the
bend in the road, then ran to catch him.
"Honorable sir, " Tree-ear said, panting and bowing. "As I walked
behind
you, I noticed that you are marking your path with rice!"
The farmer turned and saw the trail of rice. A well-built man with a
broad suntanned face, he pushed his straw hat back, scratched his
head,
and laughed ruefully.
"Impatience, " said the farmer. "I should have had this container
woven
with a double wall. But it would have taken more time. Now I pay for
not waiting a bit longer." He struggled out of the jiggeh's straps
and
inspected the container. He prodded the straw to close the gap but to
no avail, so he threw his arms up in mock despair. Tree-ear grinned.
He
liked the farmer's easygoing nature.
"Fetch me a few leaves, boy, " said the farmer. Tree-ear complied, and
the man stuffed them into the container as a temporary patch.
The farmer squatted to don the jiggeh. As hestarted walking, he
called
over his shoulder. "Good deserves good, urchin. The rice on the
ground
is yours if you can be troubled to gather it."
"Many thanks, kind sir!" Tree-ear bowed, very pleased with himself.
He
had made a lucky guess, and his waist pouch would soon be filled with
rice.
Tree-ear had learned from Crane-man's example. Foraging in the woods
and rubbish heaps, gathering fallen grain-heads in the autumn
these
were honorable ways to garner a meal, requiring time and work. But
stealing and begging, Crane-man said, made a man no better than a dog.
"Work gives a man dignity, stealing takes it away, " he often said.
Following Crane-man's advice was not always easy for Tree-ear. Today,
for example. Was it stealing, to wait as Tree-ear had for more rice
to
fall before alerting the man that his rice bag was leaking? Did a
good
deed balance a bad one? Tree-ear often pondered these kinds of
questions, alone or in discussion with Crane-man.
"Such questions serve in two ways, " Crane-man had explained. "They
keep
a man's mind sharp
and his thoughts off his empty stomach."
Now, as always, he seemed to know Tree-ear's thoughts without hearing
them spoken. "Tell me about this farmer, " he said. "What kind of man
was he?"
Tree-ear considered the question for several moments, stirring his
memory. At last, he answered, "One who lacks patience
he said it
himself. He had not wanted to wait for a sturdier container to be
built. And he could not be bothered to pick up the fallen rice." Tree-
ear paused. "But he laughed easily, even at himself."
"If he were here now, and heardyou tell of waiting a little longer
before speaking, what do you think he would say or do?"
"He would laugh, " Tree-ear said, surprising himself with the speed of
his response. Then, more slowly, "I think . . . he would not have
minded."
Crane-man nodded, satisfied. And Tree-ear thought of something his
friend often said: Scholars read the great words of the world. But
you
and I must learn to read the world itself.
Tree-ear was so called after the mushroom that grew in wrinkled half-
circles on dead or fallen tree trunks, emerging from the rotten wood
without benefit of parent seed. A good name for an orphan, Crane-man
said. If ever Tree-ear had had another name, he no longer remembered
it, nor the family that might have named him so.
Tree-ear shared the space under the bridge with Crane-man
or rather,
Crane-man shared it with him. After all, Crane-man had been there
first, and would not be leaving anytime soon. The shriveled and
twisted
calf and foot he had been born with made sure of that.
Tree-ear knew the story of his friend's name. "When they saw my leg
at
birth, it was thought I would not survive, " Crane-man had
said. "Then,
as I went through life on one leg, it was said that I was like a
crane.
But besides standing on one leg, cranes are also a symbol of long
life." True enough, Crane-man added. He had outlived all his family
and, unable to work, had been forced to sell his possessions one by
one, including, at last, the roof over his head. Thus it was that he
had come to live under the bridge.
Once, a year or so earlier, Tree-ear had asked him how long he had
lived there. Crane-man shook his head; he no longer remembered. But
then he brightened and hobbled over to one side of the bridge,
beckoning Tree-ear to join him.
"I do not remember how long I have been here, " he said, "but I know
how
long you have." And he pointed upward, to the underside of the
bridge.
"I wonder that I have not shown you this before."
On one of the slats was a series of deep scratches, as if made with a
pointed stone. Tree-ear examined them, then shook his head at Crane-
man. "So?"
"One mark for each spring since you came here, " Crane-man
explained. "I
kept count of your years, for I thought the time would come when you
would like to know how old you are."
Tree-ear looked again, this time with keen interest. There was a mark
for each finger of both hands
ten marks in all.
Crane-man answered before Tree-ear asked. "No, you have more than ten
years, " he said. "When you first came and I began making those marks,
you were in perhaps your second year
already on two legs and able to
talk."
Tree-ear nodded. He knew the rest of the story already. Crane-man had
learned but little from the man who had brought Tree-ear to the
bridge.
The man had been paid by a kindly monk in the city of Songdo to bring
Tree-ear to the little seaside village of Ch'ulp'o. Tree-ear's
parents
had died of fever, and the monk knew of an uncle in Ch'ulp'o.
When the travelers arrived, the man discovered that the uncle no
longer
lived there, the house having been abandoned long before. He took
Tree-
ear to the temple on the mountainside, but the monks had been unable
to
take the boy in because fever raged there as well. The villagers told
the man to take the child to the bridge, where Crane-man would care
for
him until the temple was free of sickness.
"And, " Crane-man always said, "when a monk came to fetch you a few
months later, you would not leave. You clung to my good leg like a
monkey to a tree, not crying but not letting go, either! The monk
went
away. You stayed."
When Tree-ear was younger, he had asked for the story often, as if
hearing it over and over again might reveal something more
what his
father's trade had been, what his mother had looked like, where his
uncle had gone
but there was never anything more. It no longer
mattered. If there was more to having a home than Crane-man and the
bridge, Tree-ear had neither knowledge nor need of it.
Breakfast that morning was a feast
a bit of the rice boiled to a
gruel
in a castoff earthenware pot, served up in a bowl carved from a
gourd.
And Crane-man produced yet another surprise to add to the meal: two
chicken leg-bones. No flesh remained on the arid bones, but the two
friends cracked them open and worried away every scrap of marrow from
inside.
Afterwards
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Author Notes
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Subjects
Subjects
Action & Adventure
Asia
Audiobooks
Family
Fiction
Historical
HISTORICAL FIC
Historical fiction
History
Juvenile Fiction
Juvenile Literature
Korea -- History -- KoryÅ period, 935-1392 -- Juvenile fiction
Korea -- History -- Koryŏ period, 935-1392 -- Juvenile fiction
Korea -- Juvenile fiction
Korea -- Juvenile Fiction. -- History -- Koryo period, 935-1392
Large print books
Newbery Medal
Orphans & Foster Homes
Pottery
Pottery -- Juvenile fiction
Poverty & Homelessness
Social Themes
Survival Stories
Values & Virtues
Asia
Audiobooks
Family
Fiction
Historical
HISTORICAL FIC
Historical fiction
History
Juvenile Fiction
Juvenile Literature
Korea -- History -- KoryÅ period, 935-1392 -- Juvenile fiction
Korea -- History -- Koryŏ period, 935-1392 -- Juvenile fiction
Korea -- Juvenile fiction
Korea -- Juvenile Fiction. -- History -- Koryo period, 935-1392
Large print books
Newbery Medal
Orphans & Foster Homes
Pottery
Pottery -- Juvenile fiction
Poverty & Homelessness
Social Themes
Survival Stories
Values & Virtues
More Details
Contributors
ISBN
9780395978276
9780547350042
9780547534268
9780786243051
9781400084951
9780739359938
9780547350042
9780547534268
9780786243051
9781400084951
9780739359938
UPC
Accelerated Reader
MG
Level 6.6, 6 Points
Level 6.6, 6 Points
Lexile measure
920L
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