They Called Him Mister Mean: A Tale for Children of All Ages

There was an old man who lived in the woods
And was hardly ever seen walking in town;
When he went to the store to buy cookies and things
He never smiled, but always wore a frown.
His beard was black and behind his back
They called him Mister Mean.

His nose was very big and his eyes were quite dark
His face would give children bad dreams;
He'd never learned how to write so signed his name with the mark
Of an "X" that even first graders knew what that might mean.
His beard was black and behind his back
They called him Mister Mean.

He'd never hurt another soul so far as it was known
But the parents hid their children under their beds
So their faces would not be shown
When Mister Mean walked by their homes
Each shuddered in his place
And hoped that as they stared at him
He would not see their face.

He lived all alone (at least everyone thought that he did)
Because they never saw him with a child or wife,
But no one could be sure, no one had dared knock on his door
He was left all alone for most of his life.
His beard was black and behind his back
They called him Mister Mean.

Whether in sun or in shade the kids were afraid
Of this strange looking old man that nobody knew,
So they ran when they saw him coming
And put their fingers in their ears if they heard him humming
For fear of what the sounds he made might do.

On one stormy afternoon little Betty chose to play
Out of sight of her parents and up on a hill
As the skies darkened quickly in shades of dark gray.
Then lightening flashed and thunder rang out
The wind blew like nothing the girl had ever seen;
She was frightened and shook knowing not which way to look
Then looked up and saw old Mister Mean.

He cradled little Betty up in his arms
And carried her into town
Where the folks stood in wonder as they saw
A face without a frown.
His visage fell on the little girl
And some swore they saw a soft smile
As he set her into her mother's arms
After carrying the now sleeping girl
For many a mile.

Mr. Mean was no more,
Things were no longer the same:
Folks called him Mr. Sweeney because
That was his real name.
He came around town more
And began to make friends
And began the next part of his life
Before his chance ends.

After she woke, she cried then smiled.
He held out his wrinkled hand and she took it in despair;
He walked her home to her parents' arms
His touch showed that he cared.
From that day on, he was still alone
But no one spoke behind his back,
He still lived outside of town
And his face was still sometimes a frown
And his beard seemed just a tad less black.

But there was more to him than anyone knew
And each person in town now knew it,
Each allowed a good thought
And each one then begot
Yet another and soon they all grew it.
His beard remained somewhat black and behind his back
The people felt guilty for the things they had done;
Their perceptions had been rearranged
And their ways then changed
As they watched little Betty play and have fun.

Change sometimes happens and sometimes not.
When I does, it often takes
Quite a lot.