When I was a little girl I desperately wanted to live by the water BUT I lived in North Dakota, where not a single body of water (not counting a slough) was within walking distance.
I would read stories about girls who lived by streams and brooks; they always seemed to have great adventures and their lives just seemed more exciting!
So one day I decided to make my own pond.
After all, why should I just sit around dreaming about water? I was a very resourceful eight-year-old girl. So I picked up a shovel, chose the perfect spot in our yard, and started to dig.
I dug for days.
I wanted it to be deep. I wanted it to be just like the ponds in my books. I had big dreams that I would eventually add fish (maybe even Koi!!) and the pond would become so fantastic that EVERYONE in my small town would come to see it. They would tell their friends and soon everyone in the world would know how fantastic Jessica Runck’s Koi pond was! People would stand over the pond and think, “Wow, this pond sure is the best thing I’ve ever seen in the whole wide world. Thanks, Jessica for making our lives better!!” And I would stand there, proudly staring through my giant glasses at the huge crowd and think, I made this happen.
It didn’t turn out that way.
After about a week, I thought I had dug down deep enough. I knew I couldn’t just fill the hole with water or it would seep into the ground, so I went into our musty old shed and underneath some old cat food and a tractor tire, found a large piece of plastic.
I pulled the grimy piece of plastic to my giant hole, lined it carefully, and stared at my work.
It was perfect.
All it needed was… water.
You see, in my excitement I had forgotten to make the hole close enough to the watering hose.
So I had to carry bucket after bucket of sloshing water to the pit.
It took me the entire day and when I’d finished I stood looking at my work proudly; what probably looked like a muddy brown hole of water to the outsider was glorious to me.
Only, no one seemed to care as much as I did. My parents were less than impressed (considering I had just dug a giant hole in their yard) and our little gravel road was just as slow as ever.
But I didn’t care, I sat by the pond all day long. I read books beside it, danced around it, and just plain sat and stared at it until the sun went down.
I had faith that people would soon get word and show up.
The next morning, I woke up excited to play by the water again – I jumped out of bed and ran outside to sit by the pond and eat my breakfast…
But it was gone.
The hole was still there. And so was the plastic. But the water had seeped through a tiny hole in the lining that I hadn’t noticed.
I stood there, staring at my muddy, plastic-lined, hole-in-the-ground.
I was devastated.
All that work. All that time. All my good intentions to make something wonderful and new and exciting – gone.
Now there would be no place for the beautiful fish and nothing for the lines of people to see.
Now it wasn’t a beautiful Koi fish pond.
It was just a hole.
I thought about that memory yesterday.
I’m currently working on a project that I’m terrified is going to become like that pond.
My producing partners and I have spent over a year working on our web series, Book Club. We filmed the pilot and I’m so proud of it. (Watch It Here!!) And like the pond, I was hoping after all the work we did on the first episode, all the time we spent digging, that someone would notice it and deem it worthy of Koi…ahh, I mean, sponsorship.
But after trying to secure funding to film the rest of the season for almost a year, we have made a very hard decision to try and raise the money ourselves.
By that I mean – ask for it. From our friends, family, fans and anyone who wants to show support.
As a girl who used to dig gigantic holes by herself, I am not a fan of asking other people for help.
But I thought about it for a long time and decided that I don’t want Book Club to be like my pond. I don’t want it to seep away into the world without making the mark I know it can.
So I decided I would put my pride aside and ask.
I know most of you are going to read this and think, “That girl needed some friends growing up.”
You’re also going to think, “That is so nice that she is raising money. Good luck to her.”
But maybe, just this once, could you follow all that thinking up with some clicking? As in, click on the link below to donate?
I mean, please, if you have a few extra bucks, spread the love. If not for me – for the little girl with the frizzy hair and the big glasses who just wanted to live by a pond.
I think she’d be pretty psyched to know that her future self made it all the way to the ocean.