데이비드 고긴스의 Can't Hurt Me를 주제로 한 동화
오늘은 데이비드 고긴스의 Can't hurt me라는 내용을 토대로 동화를 만들어 보았다.
저자와 마찬가지로 사자의 달리기 이야기를 통해, 책의 메시지를 전달하고자 하였다.
책의 모든 내용을 담아낼 수는 없으니, 달리기 이야기와 궁합이 맞는 "정신력"이라는 키워드와, 이를 기르기 위한 몇 가지 방법을 아래와 같이 소개하고자 한다.
- 고통 일기를 써서, 과거의 트라우마, 실패, 고통을 직시하고 기록하라. 그것이 약점이 아닌 원동력이 될 수 있다.
- 편안함에서 벗어나야 성장한다.
- 거울을 보며 스스로의 현실과 목표를 마주하라.
모두 중요한 이야기다.
특히 현대사회와 같이 "쉬운 도파민"을 어디에서든 구할 수 있는 시대에서는 더욱 필요한 이야기라고 본다. 저자처럼 원대한 목표를 쟁취하기 위한 의지력(정신력) 뿐만 아니라, 쇼츠와 같이 나에게 하등 도움이 되지 않는 값싼 중독을 끊어내기 위해서도 정신력이 필요하다.
우리 아이들에게도 이런 의지력을 길러주고자 하는 마음에서 이야기를 써 보았다.
In the middle of a wide, sunny grassland lived a young lion named Luo.
Luo looked strong with his fluffy golden mane, but he gave up pretty easily.
When running made him tired, he stopped.
If jumping practice didn’t go well, he’d sit down right away and sigh,
“Maybe I’m just not very strong…”
One afternoon, while exploring a quiet hill, Luo met an old lion sitting calmly, watching the sky.
The old lion had gentle eyes and old scars, like he’d been through a lot but was still proud.
“Why do you look so down?” the old lion asked kindly.
“I always get tired and quit,” Luo said. “I don’t think I’m made to be brave or strong.”
The old lion didn’t lecture or scold. He simply handed Luo a small, shiny mirror.
“Look into this every day,” he said. “And ask yourself one question:
‘Did I try my best today?’”
Luo blinked. “That’s it?”
“That’s it,” the lion said with a soft smile.
Luo took the mirror home, still confused. That night, he looked at it—but all he saw was his own face.
“Hmph. What’s this supposed to do?” he muttered.
But the next morning, something felt different.
When Luo went out for his usual run, he paused by a rock and noticed a heavy sandbag nearby—one that the stronger animals used to train.
He’d never tried using it before.
He looked at the sandbag… then at the mirror in his pouch.
“Maybe today I can try something new,” he whispered.
He pushed the sandbag onto his back. It was heavy! His legs felt wobbly right away.
His breath came fast, and his chest burned a little. Normally, he would’ve stopped.
But this time, he didn’t.
“This is what hard work feels like,” he told himself. “And maybe… maybe this is how I get stronger.”
When he finally stopped running, he was tired all over—but proud.
That night, he pulled out the mirror and, for the first time, asked himself:
“Did I try my best today?”
He smiled. “Yeah. I really did.”
From then on, Luo trained a little differently.
He didn’t quit when things got tough. He pushed a bit farther, a bit longer.
Even when his muscles ached, or when he fell, he kept going.
Every night, he looked into the mirror and asked the same question.
He also started writing in a little notebook:
“Today I didn’t want to run, but I did anyway.”
“Jumped again after falling twice.”
“Carried the sandbag all the way to the hilltop!”
Trying became something he was proud of.
A few days later, the village held a big running race.
Luo joined in, this time standing tall and confident.
When the race started, he ran as fast as he could. When the hill came, and his legs got tired, he remembered the mirror.
“Did I try my best?” he asked himself mid-run.
So he kept going. And this time, he didn’t stop.
He crossed the finish line in first place—and the crowd cheered.
Later that week, Luo found a letter in the mailbox. It had a golden seal and read:
“To the fastest lion on the plains—Luo.
You are invited to the Great Lion Kingdom Race!”
That night, Luo held up the mirror again.
He looked into his own eyes and whispered,
“Let’s try our best again tomorrow.”
And from that day on, wherever he went, Luo always carried his little mirror—not just to see his reflection, but to remember the lion he was becoming.
읽어주시는 모든 분께 항상 감사드립니다.