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The Good of a Bad Story

T. is a good kid, but like many good kids, he still gets himself into a little bit of trouble now and again.  Today, T was challenging a substitute teacher, nothing major, but enough that the narrative found its way back to me.  I pulled him aside on his way back from lunch. "Hey, T.  Can we talk for a minute?"  His eyebrow raised as he tried to figure out what might justify a conversation with the principal.   "Sure," he answered timidly. "T, can I tell you a story?" "Yeah.  I guess." "Once upon a time . . . " I began, giving myself a moment to gather my thoughts.  I was making the story up on the fly.  I knew what I wanted to say, but not exactly how.  It wasn't going to be a great story, but I pushed forward anyway.  ". . . there were two backpackers climbing a mountain.  They walked side-by-side, their backpacks filled with a lot of heavy objects.  As they climbed, one of the backpackers tired more than the other.  He began