The Magic Backpack
Written by Maxine Willoughby
Tomorrow was the first day back at school.
Maya carefully packed her purple backpack the night before.
She tucked in her books, pencils, crayons, snacks, water bottle, napkins and a small notebook.
As she zipped it closed, Dad smiled and said, "A well-packed backpack has its own bit of magic."
Maya giggled.
"That’s silly, Dad,” Maya chuckled. “Backpacks aren’t magical."
The next morning, Maya skipped happily to school.
At the school gate, her friend Aiden looked worried.
"I forgot my pencil," he sighed.
Maya opened her backpack.
"Here, you can borrow one of mine."
Later in class, Mrs. Chen asked everyone to colour a picture.
Elle had forgotten crayons.
Maya reached into her backpack again.
"You can share mine."
At lunchtime, Alexis dropped a napkin into a puddle.
Without thinking, Maya smiled and handed over an extra one she had packed.
Each time someone needed help, her backpack seemed to have exactly what was needed.
By the end of the day, Maya laughed to herself.
"Dad was right! My backpack is magical!"
That evening, Maya told Dad about her day.
He smiled warmly.
"You packed it thoughtfully and responsibly,” he said. “Being prepared you were able to help others.”
“Oh, that's the magic," thought Maya. She smiled to herself and looked at the backpack.
The magic was being prepared.
