Barnaby was a little nutcracker, smaller than all the others on Old Man Tiber’s shelf. He wasn’t made of dark, polished wood like his brothers; Barnaby was painted a cheerful, but slightly wobbly, shade of blue. And, most importantly, Barnaby couldn’t crack nuts. He tried and tried, straining his little wooden jaw, but the shells wouldn’t budge. The other nutcrackers would chuckle, ‘Look at Barnaby! The nutcracker who can’t crack!’
Barnaby felt terrible. He wanted to be a *good* nutcracker, to help families enjoy Christmas treats. Old Man Tiber, a kindly toymaker, noticed Barnaby’s sadness. He didn’t scold Barnaby, or try to fix him. Instead, he said, ‘Barnaby, every nutcracker is special in their own way. You just haven’t discovered *your* special yet.’
Barnaby spent his days watching the other nutcrackers work. He noticed little Elara, Old Man Tiber’s granddaughter, often struggled to reach the highest shelves where the special Christmas candies were kept. The other nutcrackers were too busy cracking nuts to help. Barnaby, being small, could easily climb the shelves!
One afternoon, Elara was trying to reach a jar of sparkling sugar plums. She stretched and stretched, but couldn’t quite get it. ‘Oh dear,’ she sighed. Barnaby, without a word, scurried up the shelves and gently pushed the jar towards her. Elara’s face lit up. ‘Barnaby! You’re a lifesaver!’
From that day on, Barnaby became the ‘High Shelf Helper.’ He retrieved decorations, candies, and even lost buttons for Old Man Tiber. He discovered he was excellent at finding things! He wasn’t cracking nuts, but he was helping in a way no other nutcracker could.
The other nutcrackers stopped teasing Barnaby. They realized that being different wasn’t a bad thing. In fact, it was what made Barnaby so useful. They even asked *him* for help finding small tools they’d misplaced!
One Christmas Eve, a little girl named Lily came to visit Old Man Tiber’s shop. She was looking for a nutcracker for her brother, but she wasn’t interested in the strongest one. She pointed to Barnaby. ‘I want *him*,’ she said. ‘He looks kind and helpful.’
Lily’s brother, Tom, loved Barnaby. He didn’t even mind that Barnaby couldn’t crack nuts. He used Barnaby to hold small treasures and to watch over his room. Barnaby, finally, felt like he belonged. He learned that being different wasn’t a weakness, but a strength. He didn’t need to be like the other nutcrackers to be special. He just needed to be Barnaby, the little blue nutcracker who couldn’t crack nuts, but could do so much more.
As Barnaby sat on Tom’s nightstand, watching over him as he slept, he smiled. He was a helpful nutcracker, a kind nutcracker, and a very happy nutcracker. And that, he realized, was the best kind of nutcracker to be.