1978
Christopher’s Suitcase
October 1978


“Christopher’s Suitcase,” Friend, Oct. 1978, 36

Christopher’s Suitcase

Mother put a small red suitcase on Christopher’s bed and said, “You can help me pack your things if you like, son.”

“Thanks, Mother, but I can do it myself,” said Christopher.

“Do you think you can?” Mother asked, her eyes twinkling.

Christopher nodded. He knew what he needed to visit his grandmother.

“Well, I’ll be back later to see how you’re doing,” Mother said.

Christopher looked around his room. He was excited about staying overnight with his grandmother. But he couldn’t go without some of his games, because he loved to play games. Which ones should I take? Christopher wondered.

After he had packed the games that would fit into his suitcase, there was still enough room for several of his stuffed animal friends. They are important too, he decided. So Henry, the dog, and Fritz, the mouse, went on top of the games. Christopher was packed.

“I’m ready,” Christopher called.

“Let me see,” Mother said, unzipping the case. “Where are your clothes?” she asked.

“I’m wearing them,” Christopher explained.

“What are you going to wear to bed?” Mother asked.

“Oh, I forgot.” Christopher went to a drawer, pulled out a pair of pajamas, and squeezed them into the side of the case.

“How about some clean clothes, a toothbrush, a comb, and your sneakers?” Mother suggested.

“But all that stuff won’t fit,” Christopher protested.

“That’s right. So some things that are in here will have to come out.”

Mother helped Christopher repack his suitcase. One game went on the bottom. On top of that went his clothing and then his two animals.

“There!” Mother said. “Now you have everything you need.”

Christopher shook his head.

“What else do you need?” Mother asked.

“A bigger suitcase!” declared Christopher, looking at the three games he was leaving behind.

Illustrated by Julie F. Young