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The Gift of Imagination

Clara sat dejectedly at her desk, wishing once again that she could concentrate on her school work. Her mother had always told Clara that daydreaming would get her into trouble one day, and it looked like that occasion had finally arrived. While the rest of the class had been practicing their multiplication tables, Clara had been gazing out the window, lost in thoughts of fantasy and intrigue.

Mr. Chamberlain was known as a strict disciplinarian, and of all the teachers in her school, he was the most despised. Clara was in the middle of her latest reverie when Mr. Chamberlain walked up behind her and rapped his wooden pointer sharply on her desk. The noise startled Clara and elicited a chorus of spiteful laughter from some of her classmates.

"Clara White, is your assignment done?" asked her teacher. "I would assume that it must be from the way you're sitting there staring out the window."

"No Mister Chamberlain, II was just..." stuttered Clara.

"Very well Miss White, you may stay after class today and finish it; that is if you can fit it into your busy schedule. I will be sending a note home to your mother."

Clara was mortified at the idea of her mother receiving yet another note from school. Time dragged and her torment deepened, until at last the sound of the closing bell signaled the end of class. Mr. Chamberlain stood at his desk in the front of the room as the other children grabbed their books and hurried from the room, talking excitedly of their plans for the weekend.

"Miss White, could you come up here please?" he said in the stern voice that had become so familiar to her recently. "Before you finish your math assignment I would like you to write, "I will not daydream in class." one hundred times on the blackboard. I have to go to the office for a minute, but I'll be right back."

"Yes sir." said Clara, heaving a heavy sigh. Mr. Chamberlain gave her a withering look, then turned on his heel and left the room.

Clara picked up the chalk, and just as she touched it to the surface of the board, she felt a prickling sensation at the back of her neck. Turning slowly with chalk in hand, Clara realized that she wasn't alone. There in the front row center desk sat a smiling young man with tousled red hair and a face full of freckles. The clothes he wore were tattered but clean, and he wore no shoes on his feet.

"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance Clara, my name is Tobias, and I'm here to take you to Faraway Island."

Clara stood there for

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