The Gift

Disclamer- I do not own Digimon. I also do not own the book You Are Special, including the back of the book and the sentences I used out of the book.

The Gift
“I’m going for a walk,” a young boy said as he pulled on a blue sweatshirt. His parents didn’t answer. They were too busy gloating over Sam’s latest accomplishment.
The nine-year-old boy sighed. Nobody ever paid attention to him. It was Sam this, Sam that. Sam was the amazing one, not him. The boy put on his large brown coat and buttoned it up. He then put on a purplish-pinkish scarf, moving his dark purple, shoulder length hair out of the way. He headed towards the door.
“Where are you going, Ken?” Mrs. Ichijouji asked him.
“For a walk,” the boy answered.
“Be careful,” His father said.
“I will.”
Ken slipped on his black snowshoes and left.

Once he was outside he smiled, but only for a second. It was snowing lightly. About two inches already lay on the ground. ‘I wish they would pay more attention to me. It’s like I don’t even exist. I’ll never live up to Sam.’
Ken walked over by the park. A group of about seven children were building a snowman. They had the bottom done and were working on creating the middle. He sighed as he watched them laughing and having a good time. ‘I wish I had someone to play with. Sam’s too busy to have time to play with me.’ He continued on, seeing children playing tag, having snowball fights, talking with friends and just having a good time. Ken wiped away a tear that had begun to form. ‘I just want a friend. Is that too much to ask?’
He left the park and walked over to his favorite store, the bookstore. He walked in. His cheeks were rosy and he was shivering slightly. The warm air felt good. He began to browse the kids’ section, which was near the front of the shop. Ten minutes later he was about to leave when a large red book caught his eye. He pulled it out of the shelf. There was a drawing of a wooden person on the front, lying beside some wood carving tools. The title, You Are Special, was written in the center of the cover. He turned the book over and read the back:
The world tells kids, “You are special if…
If you have the brains, the looks, the talent.”
God tells them, “You’re special just because. No qualifications necessary.”
Only one of those messages will find its place in their hearts.
That’s why every child you know needs to hear this one, reassuring truth:
“YOU ARE PRECIOUS IN HIS SIGHT.”
Ken smiled and glanced at the price for the book, 6.99. He had eight dollars with him. He walked over to the cash register and handed the middle-aged woman the book. She scanned it and said, “7.29.”
Ken handed her the money. She took it and handed him the change. He stuffed it in his pocket and grabbed the book.
“Thank you for shopping here,” the lady said.
Ken nodded and left. He tucked the precious book in his coat, under his arm. Ken headed home.
He was almost there when he tripped on something under the snow and fell. He sat up and glanced at what he had tripped over. A large egg lay on the ground, partially buried under the snow. It was white with specks of green on it. He touched it with his hand. The egg glowed with a bright light and rose into the air. The egg broke apart and a small green creature landed on the ground. It was round, like a soccer ball, but smaller. It had a leaf over its head. It was entirely green except for its pink nose.
“What-who are you?” Ken asked.
“My name is Leafmon. I’m your partner,” the creature said.
“Leafmon?” Ken said slowly.
Leafmon nodded.
“Do you want to be my friend?”
“Of course I do.”
Ken stood up, clutching the book in one hand. “Do you want to come home with me?”
“Yes.”
Ken scooped Leafmon up, set down his book and wrapped his scarf around him. He picked up his book and headed home.
His parents and Sam were in the living room. They were still gloating over Sam. He snuck into his room and closed the door. He set Leafmon and the book on his bed. He took off his coat and scarf and threw them on the floor.
“What book do you have?” Leafmon asked.
“You Are Special. Do want me to read it to you?”
“Yes!” Leafmon bounced up and down on the bed.
“Alright.” Ken sat down on the bed and picked up the book. Leafmon sat beside him. He opened the book to the first page and started to read. “The Wemmicks were small wooden people…”

“…And when he did, a dot fell to the ground.” Ken finished. The story had comforted him immensely. “Did you like it?” Ken asked Leafmon as he put the book down.
“Yep,” Leafmon said. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had.”
Ken smiled. “You’re my best friend too,” He whispered softly.

Author’s note: I know this is not how Ken and Wormmon met, but I saw a cute picture on the internet of them and it inspired this story.
This is the site: http://neko5.pekori.to/kakoillust/digimon_01_02/ken_riefmon.JPG
(nothing but the picture works)