Larkspur: The Story of the Delphinium

Long ago, in a wide blue sea, there lived a dolphin with a gentle smile and a voice that shimmered through the waves like music. When she sang, the water seemed to glow, and even the smallest fish paused to listen.
            She loved the sea.
            She loved how it carried her swiftly through the currents and rocked her safely at night. The ocean was her home, and her song was her joy.
            But the sharks did not listen.
            They circled.
            They followed her day and night—through rolling swells and quiet depths, through sunlight and shadow. They did not have her sleek nose or her joyful voice, and they did not understand her kindness. Wherever she swam, she felt their dark shapes moving closer.
            The dolphin was afraid.
            She swam faster than she ever had before, her heart pounding beneath her smooth skin. She feared her song would be silenced—that one day she would be carried by the tide and left upon the shore, still and broken, her voice lost forever.
            She did not know that Neptune, god of the sea, was watching.
            Neptune had always loved the dolphin—her open heart, her sweet spirit, her laughter that danced through the water like light. He saw her fear and heard her song grow quieter with every chase. And when he could no longer bear the cruelty of the sharks, he made a choice to protect her forever.
            As the sharks closed in once more, the sea suddenly grew calm. The dolphin felt warmth surround her, gentle and bright, as if the ocean itself were holding her close. Her fear softened. Her song faded into silence.
            And then—she changed. The dolphin felt the sea grow still around her. Her sleek body softened, her fear melted away, and something warm and hopeful took its place.
            Neptune transformed her into something new. She bloomed into a flower upon an oceanside overlook and was given a new name: Larkspur.
            Now her graceful nose rises as one of the most beautiful blossoms in the spring garden, reaching toward the sun. Each petal carries the memory of her song. Every tear she once cried in the deep became something magnificent.
            Though she no longer swims the sea, her beauty still tells her story—of gentleness, of courage, and of a voice that could never truly be lost.

 

Copyright 2020 Jennifer Waters

 

LOGLINE

When a gentle, music-loving dolphin is relentlessly chased by jealous sharks, the god of the sea transforms her into a flowering larkspur, turning fear into beauty and loss into lasting grace.

 

PITCH

Larkspur is a kindhearted dolphin whose joyful song and gentle spirit make her a target in the ocean she loves. As the sharks’ pursuit grows more dangerous, her fear threatens to silence her forever—until Neptune, god of the sea, intervenes. In an act of mercy and protection, he transforms the dolphin into a larkspur flower overlooking the ocean, where her beauty continues to bloom long after her swimming days have ended. 

Holly Wreath: The Story of a Very Merry Front Door

Holly berries,

Holly wreath

Make a lovely 

Bed beneath

Mistletoe boughs

Or garlands strands. 

A very merry

Holiday at hand!

Swing it wide, 

Swing it long,

The front door;

A brand new song. 

A crown of thorns,

With drops of blood.

Glisten in light,

Glow with love. 

Copyright 2020 Jennifer Waters

Happy Coloring Zone: The Story of a Box of Crayons

Once there was a crayon box that knew it was lucky.

It lived on a low table by a sunny window, right in the middle of the Happy Coloring Zone. From where it sat, the box could see everything that mattered: small hands reaching, big ideas forming, and blank pages waiting to become something new.

The box didn’t talk—not out loud—but it noticed things. It noticed how children opened its cardboard lid carefully at first, as if greeting old friends. It noticed how they searched for just the right color, their fingers hovering before choosing. And it noticed how, every single time, something good seemed to begin.

Inside the box, the crayons rested side by side. Red felt brave. Blue felt calm. Yellow hummed with warmth. Green believed in growing things. Even the quiet colors—gray, brown, soft peach—had feelings of their own, steady and kind.

The box didn’t decide what the children would draw. It only held the colors and waited.

And the children drew everything.

They drew houses with crooked roofs and families holding hands. They drew suns that smiled and dogs that flew. They drew wishes they didn’t yet know how to say out loud. When a picture was finished, it was taped to the wall, and the box watched the walls slowly disappear beneath layers of hope.

Sometimes, the crayons grew short. The box felt them wiggle with effort as they tried to do just a little more. Their paper wrappers peeled and cracked, and the box worried—until loving hands wrapped them again, smoothing new covers into place.

“Still useful,” those hands seemed to say. “Still needed.”

The box liked that.

Over time, the Happy Coloring Zone grew crowded with pictures. There were so many that the walls ran out of room. So, the pictures moved to another wall. Then, another room. Then, another home.

The box traveled, too.

It rode in backpacks and cardboard boxes. It sat on kitchen tables and classroom shelves. Wherever it went, children opened it, and the same quiet magic happened again. Colors met paper. Feelings found shapes. The world felt lighter.

The box began to notice something strange.

No matter where it landed, the Happy Coloring Zone followed. It stretched beyond one house, then one street, then one town. It crossed oceans in suitcases and backpacks. It slipped into hospitals, libraries, and places where people felt lonely.

Everywhere the box went, coloring began—and with it, healing.

The box didn’t know how big the world was, but it sensed that the Happy Coloring Zone now reached across time zones and seasons, appearing whenever someone needed it most.

Sometimes, when no one was around, the box rested quietly. It listened to the faint hum of all the pictures it had helped bring into being. It felt proud—not because it was special, but because it was shared.

And if you were feeling sad—very sad—the box hoped you might find one.

A place with paper.

A place with colors.

A place where your hands could remember how to make something good.

Because the Happy Coloring Zone is always waiting.

And so is the box.

Copyright 2020 Jennifer Waters

 

LOGLINE

When a humble crayon box travels from home to home, it discovers that wherever children color, hope and healing quietly begin.

 

PITCH

A well-traveled box of crayons witnesses children transform blank pages into expressions of courage, comfort, and joy. As the crayons wear down and are lovingly restored, the box observes how drawings fill walls, homes, and eventually spaces all over the world—carrying creativity into classrooms, hospitals, and quiet places where it’s needed most. The story celebrates art as a universal language of healing and reminds readers that a Happy Coloring Zone can exist anywhere a child is given colors, paper, and care.

Camel Train: The Story of Getting Over a Hump

Once there was a camel who could not get over his hump. He woke each morning, stretched his long legs, and sighed at the big bump on his back. It wobbled when he walked and bobbed when he ran.  

The camel lived in a wide, golden desert where the sun rose like a glowing coin. Sand dunes rolled on forever, and the wind sang softly across the land. Everywhere he looked, there were camels.  

Every camel had a hump. Some had one. Some had two. Big humps, small humps, crooked humps, and proud humps. The camel knew he was not the only one, but he still wished his hump were gone.  

Each morning, a camel train passed through the desert. One hundred camels marched in a long, bumpy line. One hundred hooves. One hundred shadows. And yes—one hundred humps.  

The camel counted them as they passed. One hump, two humps, three humps. By the time he reached one hundred, his head drooped. The problem was not how many humps there were. The problem was that he hated his own.  

He tried to make the best of it. He offered rides to desert mice and birds, who climbed up happily and waved from the top. But the extra weight made him tip and tumble, and soon everyone was covered in sand.  

During the hottest days, the camel tried filling his hump with extra water, just in case a drought came. But the water sloshed with every step, and he swayed from side to side while the other camels walked on smoothly. 

At night, under a sky filled with stars, the camel lay on the cool sand and thought hard thoughts. “What if life would be easier without you?” he whispered to his hump. The hump did not answer.  

One morning, when the sun felt too hot and the road felt too long, the camel reached his lowest point. He stopped walking. He stopped thinking. Then, an idea popped into his head.  

What if he left his hump behind? The thought felt wild and scary, but also exciting. Before he could change his mind, the camel shook and shimmied. With one great wiggle—plop!—his hump slid right off his back and landed in the middle of the road.  

The camel froze. He felt lighter. Straighter. Taller. He took one careful step, then another. He did not wobble. He did not tip. He laughed out loud and trotted away without looking back.  

Soon travelers came along. “Watch out!” someone called. “There’s a bump in the road!” They stepped carefully over the strange, lumpy shape and continued on their way.  

If you ever come across a bump in the road, you might have found that camel’s hump. The camel would hope you take your time, step safely, and keep going.  

Far ahead, the camel walked with ease. The desert was still hot and the road still long, but his steps felt steady beneath him.  

When he saw the camel train again—one hundred camels marching past with one hundred humps—he smiled. He understood something new. Every camel carries something.  

And so, the camel traveled on, lighter and wiser, knowing that a bump in the road is only a bump, and smooth journeys often begin after we learn how to move forward.

 

Copyright 2020 Jennifer Waters

LOGLINE

A camel who hates his hump sets out to rid himself of it, only to discover that life’s bumps are easier to face when you learn how to move forward.

 

PITCH

In a wide, golden desert, a camel struggles with the hump on his back, convinced it’s the one thing holding him back from a smooth journey. As a long camel train passes each day, reminding him that everyone carries a hump of their own, he tries to make the best of his—offering rides to friends and even filling it with water—until nothing seems to help. At his lowest point, the camel makes a bold decision and leaves his hump behind, discovering newfound balance and freedom along the road ahead.