A heartwarming tale about Coral, a peach-colored crayon who learns that caring for others shouldn't mean losing herself. Through exhaustion, breaking, and healing, she discovers that accepting imperfection creates the most beautiful art of all.
In a big classroom crayon box lived Coral, a bright peach-colored crayon. She lived with Hektor, the bold Red, Viri, the wild Green, noisy Neons, and Nila, the always-breaking Blue. It was a very busy, very messy home.
Coral felt like she had to fix everything. "A dull tip won't do!" she chirped, and sharpened Hektor until he sparkled. "A smudge is a disaster!" she sighed, and cleaned the wrapper of Viri, the wild green crayon.
She would even break herself into tiny peach pieces just so Nila, the always-breaking blue crayon, and her friends had enough to draw a perfect sunset. She gave and she gave until she felt brittle.
Keeping everyone perfect was so exhausting. Coral became shorter. Her peach tip grew dull. She didn't look bright anymore, just tired. But she kept pushing, thinking, "One more fix!"
Then, *SNAP!* Trying to reach a high shelf for one last broken piece, Coral finally snapped in half. The small tip-half felt a sudden, overwhelming sadness. She couldn't fix anyone, not even herself.
Feeling completely overwhelmed, the tip-half of Coral rolled herself out of the noisy, demanding box. She rolled until she found a quiet, sunny spot behind a dusty jar of glitter in the corner of the art room.
For the first time, Coral drew just for herself: a small, squiggly line. It wasn't perfect, but the sunlight felt warm on the paper, and the peach color looked friendly. She rested and slowly remembered what made her happy: not being perfect, but simply being.
The kind art teacher found her pieces and taped Coral back together, gently but firmly. She was shorter and had a scar, but the tape held her together. With every passing day, Coral felt stronger and more whole.
When she rolled back to the crayon box, nothing had changed. Hektor was still bold and slightly chipped. Viri was still wild and messy. Nila was still breaking. But Coral had changed. She no longer tried to fix everyone.
Instead, she colored beside them. She helped when she truly could, but she mostly just accepted the beautiful mess. Because Coral knew that crayons didn't need to be perfect to make truly beautiful, colorful art.