Amy’s Hat


Amy was a little girl
About five years of age.
Her mother said the youngster
Was going through a stage.
Amy had some fetishes
That made her mother sigh,
Like always eating radishes
And saying she could fly.
Stranger, still, than even that,
Was something quite unique.
She always wore a soft knit hat
Each day of every week.
She wore it in the bathtub.
She wore it when she ate.
She wore it when she went to bed,
And when she’d roller-skate.
She wore it at her aunt’s house.
And at the dentist’s too.
She wore it to the matinee
And when she had the flu.
No matter what her mother did
Or what her teacher said,
The girl couldn’t be convinced
To take it off her head.
Even Amy’s three best friends,
Susie, Ben, and Matt,
Could never get their little friend
To doff her soft knit hat.
Sometimes they would ask her,
“Why wear that hat, my friend?”
But Amy’d tell them firmly,
“Don’t ask me that again!”
She knew that all her reasons
Were good ones and not bad.
She wore the soft knit hat
To keep the friends she had.
She wore it so the girls
And Matt would never know
The long hair she once had
Was gone—it wouldn’t grow.
They thought that something serious
Had happened to her head.
And Amy would have laughed
At where their strange thoughts led.
Susie thought that Amy
Had spilled some purple paint
To somehow stain her hair.
It made her want to faint!
Matt was sure the reason—
He thought it through with dread—
Was because she had a hole
Through the top part of her head.
Ben said, “How ridiculous!
I’m sure it’s some disease.
She must have gone out camping
And caught it from some fleas.”
So Susie, Ben, and Matt
Went on thinking what they thought.
They said, “Let’s never mention
We know just what she’s got.
“Let’s just ignore the hat,
And pretend it isn’t there.
That’s how we all can help her,
And show her that we care.”
Well, that worked fine until the day
That Matt forgot and said,
“Amy, take your hat off
So we can see your head.
I’d really like to see that hole,
I promise I won’t faint.”
Ben asked, “How’s your disease?”
And Sue yelled, “Purple paint!”
And while they were forgetting
To ignore the soft knit hat,
Amy looked quite flustered
And said, “Now, how’s that?”
Sue explained and added,
“We’d like to know who’s right.
So please take off your hat
And let us see the sight.”
Amy thought about it.
Then lifted up her hand
And slowly took her hat off.
She hoped they’d understand.
Matt said, “Whatever is it?
I see no purple head.
Nor do I see a hole
Nor flea bumps large and red.”
Then Amy smiled a little
And said, “It’s just my hair.
Could you all still like me
With such a mess up there?”
Well, Matt was disappointed
That his theory wasn’t true.
But he said, “Don’t be silly!
Of course we still like you.
“It never really mattered
What was on your head.
We even would have liked you
With lumps and bumps of red!”
Amy took the hat off
That had made her mother sigh.
And said, “My friends still like me.
Besides, you know, I fly.”

[illustrations] Illustrated by Pat Hoggan