Wizard in a hat

⏱ ~5 min reading

In the alley, near the old clock, stood a small shop. The bell above the door rang out in an old-world way: "day-ring." Inside, it smelled of dried roses, varnish on wooden cabinets, and a little cinnamon. On the shelves lay various things: bronze keys, copper candlesticks, wooden horseshoes, Persian scarves. And at the very top, in the very corner, on the top shelf, lay a hat.

The hat was unusual. Silver-starred, pointed, with a wide, flexible brim. Its color changed - now dark blue, like the night sky, then sparkling silver, like snow in the light of a lantern. Tiny stars scattered across the field. And when the shopkeeper was not looking, these stars twinkled quietly.

Everyone thought it was just a hat. Beautiful, old, unusual. But in fact, someone lived in it.

In it lived the wizard Keplik. Small, small - smaller than a walnut, with a white beard, in a blue dressing gown, in soft slippers. All day long he sat in the very top of his hat, on the insole-lining, and watched what was going on in the shop. He knew all the customers. He knew who was looking for what. He knew who was having a good day and who was having a bad day.

Once a boy came into the store. His name was Lesik. The boy was quiet, with slightly sad eyes and a fluffy scarf around his neck. He came with his dad - dad was looking for a watch key. While dad was talking to the shopkeeper, Lesik walked between the cabinets and looked.

His eyes caught on his hat.

"Dad," Lesyk said quietly, "can I try it on?"

"Well, try it on, son," Dad smiled.

The shopkeeper carefully took the hat off the shelf and placed it on Lesyk's head. The hat was too big, it came down to Lesyk's eyebrows. The boy laughed. And at that moment he felt something strange.

A picture appeared in his head, as if from nowhere. A dragon. Big, green, with pink wings. He stood on a hill and sneezed clouds of mint.

«"Why not," thought Lesik, "draw a dragon like this? Green and pink. With a mint sneeze. In a hat, like mine.".

"Dad, let's go home quickly," he said suddenly. "I have an idea.".

Dad was surprised. Lesik was usually slow, reluctant to take up the pencils. But here he was in a hurry, pulling on his sleeve until his nose turned red.

The shopkeeper took off his hat and put it back on the shelf. But when his father paid for the key, Lesik asked:

— Dad… can I have this hat too?

Dad thought, looked at the price — it turned out to be unexpectedly low — and nodded.

At home, Lesyk immediately ran to his room. He took out pencils from the drawer, arranged them in a cheerful rainbow. He put a sheet of paper in front of him. He put a hat on his head. And began to draw.

The dragon turned out exactly as he imagined. Green, with pink wings, with freckles on its cheeks. Next to it was a little wizard in a hat. Next to the wizard was a mint cloud. Lesik drew for an hour. He didn't notice how time passed. He didn't hear his mother calling for dinner. The pencils rustled, the sheet filled up, his heart beat happily.

When Lesik brought the drawing to the table, everyone gasped.

"Oh, you!" Mom clapped her hands. "Where did you come up with that?"

"I don't know," Lesyk answered sincerely. "I just... thought about it.".

Dad narrowed his eyes and asked:

— Will you draw more tomorrow?

"I'll draw it," Lesyk nodded. "I still have a lot of ideas.".

And inside the hat sat little Keplik, smiling into his beard. In the evening, when Lesik put the hat on the chair by the bed, Keplik whispered affectionately to him on the very edge of sleep:

"You can do more, little one. Why not try? Why not green, but blue? Why not with two tails? Why not the other way around - so that the dragon is afraid of clouds?"

Lesik smiled in his sleep. And in the morning he woke up with a new idea. And another one. And another.

So a month passed. A year passed. Lesik grew. The hat lay now on a chair, now on a shelf, now on his head again. The drawings filled the drawers, then a large folder, then a separate closet. Lesik learned to draw with watercolors. Then with charcoal. Then he began to sculpt from clay. He became an artist. A real one.

When he was already an adult, he had a little son. And one evening Lesik took an old silver-starred hat from the shelf—the same one that had been with him since that day in the shop. He put it on the boy's head.

The son, small and quiet, suddenly narrowed his eyes. He thought. Then he said:

"Dad, let's make a ship out of cardboard. A big one. With a sail out of a sheet.".

Lesik laughed, kissed his bangs and thought: "That's it. It's passed on.".

Everyone who wore that hat had ideas. Grandma had a recipe for a new pie. Grandpa had a tune for an old guitar. The girl had a plan for a cat house. The boy had a winter castle made of snow.

Lesik somehow understood a simple thing. He sat in the evening with a cup of tea, holding his hat in his hands, looking at the thin silver stars and thinking:

«"And the hat, of course, is not so magical. That is, magical, of course. But that's not the point. The hat simply helps you hear the one who already lives inside you. Everyone has their own wizard in their head. Their own Little Wizard. He whispers quietly: "Try it." "Why not?" "Let's do it like this?" Most people just don't hear him. Because it's noisy around. Because it's scary. Because who am I?".

He smiled. He put his hat on the shelf and thought:

"Listen to your wizard. He knows what he's talking about.".

And Keplik in the hat adjusted his blue cap, stroked his white beard and thought the same thing. He knew: his work will never end. Because each of us needs someone to whisper from time to time: «You can do more.» And then the world around us becomes magical.