 Hi everyone! Today we're going to read The Big Box, written by Toni Morrison. The Big Box. Patty and Mickey, and Liza Sue, lived in a big brown box. It has carpets and curtains and beanbag chairs, and the door has three big locks. Oh, it's pretty inside, and the windows are wide with shutters to keep out the day. They have swings and slides and custom-made beds, and the doors only open one way. Their parents visit on Wednesday nights, and you should see the stuff they get. Pizza and Legos and Bubble Yum and a four-color TV set. On Christmas Day they got a picture of the sky and a butterfly under glass, an aquarium thing with plastic fish made so it would last. Oh, the seagulls scream and rabbits hop and beavers chew trees when they need them. But Patty and Mickey and Liza Sue, those kids can't handle their freedom. Now, Patty used to live with a two-way door in a little white house quite near us, but she had too much fun in school all day and made the grown-ups nervous. She talked in the library and sang in class, went four times to the toilet. She ran through the halls and wouldn't play with dolls, and when we pledged to the flag, she'd spoil it. So the teachers who loved her had a meeting one day to try and find a cure. They thought and talked and thought some more till finally they were sure. Oh, Patty, they said, you're an awfully sweet girl with a lot of potential inside you, but you have to know how far to go so the grown-up world can abide you. Now the rules are listed on the walls, so there's no need to repeat them. We all agree, your parents and we, that you just can't handle your freedom. Patty sat still and to avoid their eyes, she lowered her little girl head. But she heard their words and she felt their eyes, and this is what she said. I fold my socks and I eat my beets, and on Saturday morning I change my sheets. I links my shoes and wash my neck, and under my nails there's not a speck. Even sparrows scream and rabbits hop and beavers chew trees when they need them. I don't mean to be rude, I want to be nice, but I'd like to hang on to my freedom. I know you are smart and I know what you think you are doing what is best for me, but if freedom is handled just your way, then it's not my freedom or free. So they gave little Patty an understanding hug and put her in a big brown box. It has carpets and curtains and big bath chairs, but the door has three big locks. Oh, it's pretty inside and the windows are wide with shutters to keep out the day. She has swings and slides and a canopy bed, but the door only swings open one way. Her parents visit on Wednesday nights and you should see the stuff she gets. Barbie and Pepsi and a princess phone and a Hi-Fi stereo set. On Easter she got brand new jeans with Nikes and a Spice Girls shirt, marzipan eggs and jelly beans, and a jar of genuine dirt. Old parrots scream and rabbits hop and beavers chew trees when they need them. But Patty and Mickey and Liza Sue, those kids can't handle their freedom. Now Mickey used to live on the 18th floor with two elevators to serve us, but he had too much fun in the streets all day and made the grown-ups nervous. He wrote his name on the mailbox lid and sat on the super's Honda. He hollered in the hall and played handball, right where the sign said not to. So the tenants who loved him had a meeting one day to try and find a cure. They thought and talked and thought some more until finally they were sure. Oh, Mickey, they said, you're an awfully nice kid with a wonderful future before you. But you have to know how far you can go so the grown-up world can adore you. Now the rules are listed on the elevator door, so there's no need to repeat them. We all agree, your parents and we, that you just can't handle your freedom. Mickey sat still and avoided their eyes by lowering his little boy head. But he heard their words and he felt their eyes and this is what he said. But I comb my hair and I don't do drugs and every day I vacuum the rugs. I feed the hamster and water the plants and once a week I hang up my pants. If owls can scream and rabbits hop and beavers chew trees when they need them, why can't I be a kid like me when who doesn't have to handle his freedom? I know you are smart and I know that you think you're thinking what is best for me. But if freedom is handled just your way, then it's not my freedom or free. So they gave little Mickey a knowing smile and put him in the big brown box. It has carpets and curtains and beanbag chairs, but the door has three big locks. Oh, it's pretty inside and the windows are wide with shutters to keep out the day. He has swings and slides and a double bunk bed, but the door only opens one way. His parents visit on Wednesday nights just after their comedy show with blimpies and frisbees and comic books and matchbox cars that go. For his birthday he got a store bought cake and an autographed basketball and a record that played exactly the sound made by a living seagull. Oh, baby seals scream and rabbits hop and beavers chew trees when they need them, but Patty and Mickey and Liza Sue, poor kids, can't handle their freedom. Now Liza lived in a little farmhouse where only the crickets disturbed us, but she had too much fun in the fields all day and made the grown-ups nervous. She let the chickens keep their eggs, let the squirrels into the fruit trees. She took the bit from the horse's mouth and fed honey to the bees. So the neighbors who loved her had a meeting one day. So I try and find a cure. They thought and talked and thought some more till finally they were sure. Oh Liza they said, you're a wonderful child and we really don't want to remove you, but you have to know how far to go if you want grown-ups to approve you. Now the rules are clear in everybody's mind so there's no need to repeat them. We all agree, your parents and we, that you simply can't handle your freedom. Liza said still and avoided their eyes by lowering her little girl head, but she heard their words and she felt their eyes and this is what she said. But I've worn my braces for three years now and gave up peanut brittle and I do my fractions and biofeed the lambs that are too little. Will the crows not scream and the rabbits not hop? Want the beavers to trees when they need them? If you shut me up and put me away because I can't handle my freedom? I know you are smart and I know that you think you're doing what is best for me, but if freedom is handled just your way then it's not my freedom or free. So they gave little Liza a pat on the cheek and put her in the big brown box. It has carpets and curtains and beanbag chairs, but the door has three big locks. Oh it's pretty inside and the windows are wide with shutters to keep out the day. She has swings and slides in a water bed, but the door only opens one way. Her parents visit on Wednesday nights right after their bingo game. They bring popcorn and Cheetos and pickup sticks and dolls that are already named. For Thanksgiving she had her own stuffed duck prepared by a restaurant cook with a movie camera all set up with a film of a fresh running brook. Oh the porpoises scream and the rabbits hop and beavers chew trees when they need them. But Patty and Mickey and Liza Sue who says they can't handle their freedom.