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I Want to Be Philberta
Text © Mar Pavón
Illustrations © Alex Pelayo
This edition © 2013 Cuento de Luz SL
Calle Claveles 10 | Urb Monteclaro | Pozuelo de Alarcón | 28223 | Madrid | Spain
www.cuentodeluz.comOriginal title in Spanish: Ser Filiberta English translation by Jon Brokenbrow
ISBN: 978-84-15619-74-1
All rights reserved
To my friend Xamón, who witnessed this tale.- Alex Pelayo -
To Alba Sellarés, beloved and sadly missed librarian,
who loaned out books and gave away smiles.
- Mar Pavón -
ON ONE OF THOSE DAYS when he really felt like daydreaming, Mary’s dad suddenly said, “I want to win the lottery.”
Mary’s mom, with a thoughtful look on her face, said, “Of course you do. And I want to move to a house with all the latest comforts …”
And Mary, who sat at the table reading a book, piped up, “And I want to be Philberta!”
Her mom and dad, immediately forgetting about driving a Ferrari and hiring a butler, turned around to look at Mary as if they were looking at a small, mad and revolting alien.
Later that morning at school, the principal said to Mary’s teacher, “I swear I just want to retire once and for all.”
The teacher quickly replied, “Oh really? Well then, I want to be the new principal!”
Mary, who was passing by with a book under her arm, couldn’t help herself and blurted out, “And I want to be Philberta!”
The principal and her teacher, both forgetting for a moment about retirements and promotions, glared at Mary as if she were the strangest creature that had ever crawled upon the face of the earth.
That afternoon in the park, two old men were chatting on a bench. Suddenly, in a fit of sincerity, one of them turned to the other and cried, “I want to be young again!”
The other old man answered back, “Aha! And I want my dearly departed
wife to come back to life!”
Mary, who happened to be sitting on the grass in front of the bench, reading a book to a tiny kitten, yelled with all her might, “And I want to be Philberta!”
Forgetting their dreams about falling in love again and the delicious food their wives had cooked, the old men looked at the little girl as if she had a screw loose. Why would she say something like that? And even more peculiar, who would ever think of reading a story to a kitten?
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