Christopher/Chris-Hopper

By Rachelle Pace Castor

My name is Christopher. My feet jump, jump, jump, and run, run, run, and hop, hop hop, so much that Mom calls me Chris-hopper.

On Sunday, Mom said, “Chris-hopper, it’s time to be Christopher. Tell your feet to slow down.

I told them, but they forgot.

On Monday, Mom and I went to the zoo. We saw giraffes, lions, elephants, and monkeys. Best of all, I liked to watch the kangaroos hop. I call them roo-hoppers. Then we saw a giant turtle moving oh … so … slow. I call it a no-hopper. It gave me an idea.

On the next Sunday, I put on my best clothes and my best shoes. Then I taped a little picture of a turtle on the toe of each shoe. “No-hoppers!” I exclaimed and ran to show Mom. She gave me the thumbs-up.

At church, I looked at the turtles on my shoes and said to my feet, “No-hoppers at church.” Now my feet remember to walk in the meetinghouse.

But when I go outside, I’m Chris-hopper again.

Illustrated by Fumi Kosaka