My Mother’s NOT a Wicked Witch

A girl in the playground said my mother’s a wicked witch.  I said: “Don’t say that; it’s hurtful,” but she kept on saying it and the other girls joined in.  So I hit them.

My teacher said: “Don’t hit Peggy or Susie or Mandy or Preti or Meng Han again.  You must never hit girls because it isn’t nice.  And they didn’t do any harm to you.”

But they did do harm to me.  They called my mother a wicked witch and that hurt me because she’s my mother and I love her very much.  She’s not a wicked witch; she’s good.

On the way home, I told my mother what the girls said.  She said: “Don’t worry.  I don’t mind what they call me.”

But I do worry, because she’s NOT a wicked witch and they said she is.  I worry because I think they’ll keep saying it.

My mother said: “If they say it again, tell them I’m a REAL witch and I can turn them into frogs.”



So I did, but they didn’t listen.

The girls kept on saying it and some boys joined in.

They said it out loud in the playground and in whispers in the classroom.  I wanted to hit them but my teacher told me not to.

He said: “Don’t hit Peggy or Susie or Mandy or Preti or Meng Han or Bobby or Gurdial or Johnny or Ravinder.  You must never hit other children because it isn’t nice.  And they didn’t hit you.  Just close your ears and walk away.”

But I can’t close my ears like an elephant and I can’t walk away because they’re all around me.

They keep calling my mother a wicked witch and that hurts me because she’s my mother and I love her very much.  She’s not a wicked witch; she’s good.

On the way home, I told my mother what the other children said.  She said: “Don’t worry.  I don’t mind what they call me.  But I know it upsets you so I’ll sort it out.”



The next morning, when we were playing outside after the first lesson, Peggy said: “Your mother looks like a wicked witch,” and Susie and Mandy laughed.  I wanted to cry because the teacher wouldn’t let me hit Peggy and my hitting feeling was filling up my whole tummy like a big balloon.

Then Preti sang: “Your mother looks like a wicked witch,” and Meng Han and Bobby laughed and pretended to fly on broomsticks.  I wanted to shout at them because the teacher wouldn’t let me hit Preti and my crying feeling was filling up my whole body like hot, sticky raspberry jelly.

Then Gurdial shouted, really loudly: “Your mother looks like a wicked witch,” and Johnny and Ravinder laughed and all the other children pretended to be bats, flying around the playing field.  I wanted to run away.



Then Peggy made a strange croaking sound and she turned into a frog.

Then Susie and Mandy turned into frogs and hopped onto Preti’s pretty blue shoes.

Then Meng Han and Bobby turned into frogs and hid in the nature garden.

Then Gurdial and Johnny turned into frogs and jumped into the pond.

Then Ravinder turned into a frog while he was running to tell the teacher.

Then all the other children ran screaming to the teacher and some of them were crying as much as I’d wanted to cry when they were calling my mother a wicked witch.  And the teacher had to catch all the frogs and take them into the classroom.



After lunch Peggy-frog squealed and turned back into a girl.  Then Susie-frog and Mandy-frog turned into girls and so did Preti-frog.

Then Meng Han-frog turned back into a girl and and Bobby-frog turned into a boy.  Then Gurdial-frog and Johnny-frog turned back into boys and so did Ravinder-frog.

Then all the other children ran screaming to the teacher and some of them were crying as much as I’d wanted to cry when they were calling my mother a wicked witch.

And the teacher had to dry all the children who’d been frogs and get them to put their clothes back on.



Nobody calls my mother a wicked witch now and I’m glad because she’s my mother and I love her very much.  She’s not a wicked witch; she’s good.