No Small Thing - Softcover

Natale Ghent is an award-winning journalist and author of the middle-grade novel PIPER, which was chosen for several "best of" lists in her native Canada and in the United States. NO SMALL THING was shortlisted for the Canadian Library Association's Book of the Year and the Alberta Rocky Mountain Book Award. Of NO SMALL THING, she says, "I'd been carrying the story in my heart for years before it finally begged to be put on paper. I wrote it for my family and for anyone, young or old, who has struggled for something they believe in." Natale Ghent lives in Toronto.

Ma keeps her back to me. I can see she isn't going to budge, which might explain what I say next.

"You have to let us keep him. That pony is the best thing to happen to us in years. If Dad were here, he'd let us keep him."

This makes Ma turn around, all right, and she looks at me like she's staring at the devil himself. She doesn't yell these next words. She spits them through her teeth.

"I don’t want to hear another word. You take that pony back tomorrow."

"Please, Ma—"

"Get out and leave me alone!"

Ma's words hit me like broken glass. I feel the anger rise up inside me, and before I know what’s happening, I'm screaming. "I hate you! I won't take the pony back! Not tomorrow or ever! Dad left because of you, and I don't blame him, you old witch!"

Ma stares at me, her jaw dropped, the wooden spoon she was using to stir the cocoa still in the air. Queenie and Cid just stand there, their faces all shocked and disbelieving. I slam out the mudroom door and stumble down the stairs in my bare feet. I feel like a big fist is hitting me in the stomach. I think I’m going to throw up. I start to run and I keep running, past the corner store and through the park. I run past rows and rows of houses that all look the same, past the church and the jailhouse. I run until I'm far away from everything and my lungs feel like they're going to burst.

I keep running, but no matter how fast I go, I can't outrun the image of Ma's face. The terrible words stab at my brain over and over. I collapse on the lawn of a house where the windows are dark, and then I start to cry like I have never cried before. I can't stop my body from shaking. "I'm not like my f-father. I'm not like my father."

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NO SMALL THING by Natale Ghent. Copyright (c) 2005 by Natale Ghent. Published by Candlewick Press, Inc., Cambridge, MA.