'Tell my tale', 'Let the world know my story' you cry in my head. 'Tell the world who I am' you say over and over again like a broken record. The cry haunts me in my dreams and lingers behind me every moment I am awake.

Who are you? I finally gave in. Are you a toy a young girl cherishes, or a prized possession in a rich man's home? Does your tale involve a poor man working under a lamp all through the night? Or, maybe you are a prince trapped in the wooden panther by an evil witch? Are you good, bad, evil or a mute spectator like me? Do you save someone or wait for your savior? Does this picture I hold in my hands begin or end your adventure? What makes you special, the angry pose you stand frozen in? Or the smooth wood that shapes your body? I would say it is the details that the artist carved into you. But then, I could be wrong.

The possibilities are endless and your stories limitless.
So where shall I begin? Maybe I will grab a blank paper and a pencil and let you narrate the tale!