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// What do I Want to Be? 
// Story: Story Time for Patch 
// by Freewing Alchemist P 
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        Time moved forward for the young filly. Patch was now in the school, where she spent most of her days of most of the week. Like many foals her age she mostly did not like school, mostly. She did like a few things about her new school; Her friends, picking on mean colts, geography and social studies, Though she would not admit to liking geography or social studies. 
        Her teacher Ms. Hackney, and old mare with a faded lavender fur, a mane that was powder white with age. Patch could see the wrinkles were engraved in her teacher's face she liked that, they reminded her of what her mother always said. A mare that bears wrinkles show the history of her long lived life well lived. She like the way her mother just smile at them and celebrated them, not like how she saw Sweat Hearts’ mom freak out over the faintest of lines near her eyes. Ms. Hackney’s show wrinkles that shows the history of her long life as well as wrinkles brought on by stress of teaching students like her. “Patch, Patch, I know it’s a little difficult speaking in front of the class but no pony is going to make fun of you.” Her teacher gave her a warm smile. “Now lets begin, I’m sure it will be good.” Ms. Hackney’s words brought back from her daydreams, Patch stood in front of the class with her classmates and her teacher watching, scrutinizing her actions and judging her.
Patch shook those thought from her mind.  Ms. Hackney had assigned a project to her class. The project was meant to show her class an important part of her past. She had to present something that represented her past in the best way she could think of. While many and objects, like Ace and his first trophy or Teddy and his major league ball. Others had photos, Starlights Aunt or Bright Eyes and her favorite book author.  Some of her friends brought in ponies, like Clover brought in her grandmother or for Bon Bon her little brother. As for Patch she had her story. Her story, the story that her parents told her, The story of the Princess and Her Foal. The story that they told her the first night they gave her a home. Patch took a deep breath and started to tell her story. 
It had not taken Patch long to recite her story, she knew it by heart already. She did not know that the other would think of it or her. So when she finished, Patch stood in front of the class. 
“What? That’s it? Why is a stupid little story like that so important.” Teddy Scoffed at her. Patch scowl at the blue colt and his stupid spike orange mane. She wanted to shout at him and smack him with something.
There teacher facing the young colt  and then asked him hardly. “And how is that any different from your baseball?” She turned back to Patch. “Patch why is this story important part of your past?” She asked. 
Patch trembled as she answered. “When my parents adopted me from the orphanage this was the first bedtime story they told me. It was the first time I had someone read to me in bed. The first time…” Patch struggled to have the word come out.
“The first time you had a family? Somepony that would love you and you could rely on.” Her teacher voiced Patch’s answer. She only nodded but looked down. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of. It is apart of you, weather you like it or not a very important part, but never be ashamed.” Ms. Hackney stood up and addressed the class. “Class, The past provides us with the building blocks for the future. The past should never control the future, nor should the past blind you to the present. Now with that being said, Now that we’ve looked into your past let's look into the future at the end of the week I want you come into class dressed up as something you want to be when you grow up. Then you will give a report on what it is you want to be and why. Now if you are not sure or you do not know exactly what you wish to be.” Ms. Hackney pause and looked around the little school house pausing at each student and then she continued. “Then you may dress up as a representation, but remember you have to explain what it really means.” Ms. Hackney finished with a smile. The bell tolled and they all stood up and started to exit the class.  “Class dismissed, oh there will be party once we finish all the presentations so if we finish early then you’ll have more time for it.” There teacher said, with a note of finality.
Patch and her friends walked together talking about their project. “I’m going to be a forest ranger. So that I can protect our environment.” Her friend bright eyes declared. Her fur was aqua green and her long mane was long and curly, just like her mane. 
“I’m going to be a an explorer.” A dark blue colt with a silver mane cheered.
“That sounds just like you Lancelot.” A pink filly with a blond mane laughed. “I think I’m going to be a teacher.”
“Hello pot I’m the kettle, Starlight.” Lancelot said extending his hoof to Starlight. She promptly pushed it away playfully. 
“It kind of does seem Obvious what every pony wants to be…” Patch murmured. All her friends looked at her. “I don’t know what I want to do? I mean Melody wants to be a singer and Ace wants to be a soccer player. But I have no idea what I want to be what so ever.” 

At home patch was still very confused, what was she going to do? If she didn’t figure it out then how would she finish her project. There home was at the edge of town with a large garden her father took pride in tending with all manner of flower, some Patch could not quite identify. The tiny yellow house with white shutter and a stone walkway to the front door. It always made her happy to come back come, to walk up those steps to the front door, just like she was doing now. She stepped through the front door.  “Mom, Dad, I’m home!” She announced.
“Welcome home dear.” Her mother answered sweetly. 
        “How was your day at school?” Her father asked. 
        “I did good on my project, but…” She was hesitant to continue.
“But?” Both her parents prompted for her to continue. 
Patch scratched the ground. “But for the final part of the project, I’m suppose to dress up on Friday but I don’t know what to do?”
Her parents looked at each other and then to their daughter they seemed to be thinking of what to do. “Well why don’t you tell us more about the assignment and maybe we can help you better.” Her mother said.
“I’m suppose to dress up for Friday, as something I want to be when I grown up, but I don’t know what to do? I have not clue what I want to be when I grow up” She confessed to them. 
“Well, that’s a tall order Patch, if you don’t know what you want to be then it would be hard to dress up as it.” Her father concluded. Patch deflated at his words and her mother jabbed him in the side.
“Honey!” She snapped then followed by smacking him up side his head.
“Well it is, not every foals know what they want to do with their life by primary education, I was a lot older when I finally figured out what I want to do and even then I changed my mind some years later, and you too dear.” He looked over at her. 
“True, but some idea is possible, don’t you think dear?” Her mother question aloud. 
“That is a good point dear but what could she want to do?” Her father looked over to Patch. 
Patch thought about it for a long time. “I don’t know?” She answered.
“Is there anything you really like to do or help with?” Her mother asked. 
Her story came back to her, she loved the part where the baby Princess had made her mother feel better after such heart ache. She wanted to be like that for all ponies. “Well, I think I would like… I think that, I think I want to make ponies happy, take away the sadness of their lives. At least for a bit… But there are no jobs like that in the world.” Patch deflated even more.
“It would take some time find what you really want to do but for this project it is vague enough to help.” Her mother nodded.
“How about a clown?” Her father suggested.
“Not very elegant,” Her mother sighed but then looked at her. “But you’re right it will do. I think I remember a few juggling trick from when I was a filly.”
“You can even explain what you really want to do later. That this is just a placeholder for the assignment. Unless you want to be a clow.” Her father concluded.
Patch hugged her parents, and tighten it slowly. She knew if it wasn’t for their story she might not have had a clue about what she wanted to do, or at the very least figure out the assignment. “I love you guys.” Patch breathed while they were embraced. 
“We love you too Patch.” Her parents said in unison, returning her hug. Patched was happy at least for this moment.