The Mark of Where the Bench Was

The mark of where the bench was...

Once, in a little village with few residents and fewer diversions, there was a park. In that park, for most of the year, there lay a grey shadow on the ground, set there by children and marked out by stones. It stood in stark contrast to the grass in summer, and blended with the ground in winter. 'twas covered by leaves in autumn and hosted animal families in spring.

The children had set it there long ago on a bright summer's day, when the park was much, much smaller, like the village. To continue the tradition, whenever there was a big change in the village schoolhouse, the children would reset the marks that showed where the bench was.

Each time the marks were moved and shifted, a piece was added to the bench that was placed there every year, on the day the children's tests were given back.

Eventually, so many changes had been made to the marks that a whole new bench had to be brought in on the day one year.

Soon, however, this bench was also altered beyond recognition.

Why bother replacing the bench at all, then? Because, on the day that the tests were returned, all the grown-ups sat on the bench to read them. When too much had been done to change the bench, the grown-ups couldn't sit on it to read the results.

So every year, the children would mark out where the bench was to go and the bench would be made to fit so that as many grown-ups as possible could sit on it, and so read their children's results.