David

Before I had eyes to see or a body to stand on, I was just a giant block of cold, white stone in a busy city in Italy called Florence. For a very long time, I waited in a courtyard, feeling the sun warm me by day and the moon cool me by night. Other artists had tried to carve me, but they all gave up, saying I was too tall and too tricky. They didn't know there was a hero sleeping inside me, waiting to be set free. Then one day, a young man came and saw not just a stone, but a champion. He knew who I was meant to be. I am David.

The young man's name was Michelangelo. He was only 26 years old when he began working on me on September 13th, 1501. For almost three years, all I heard was the tap-tap-tapping of his hammer and the scrape-scrape-scraping of his chisel. Chip by chip, he carved away the stone that wasn't me. He gave me curly hair, thoughtful eyes, and strong hands. He was telling a famous story—the story of a young shepherd boy named David who was about to face a huge, scary giant named Goliath. The people of Florence loved this story because they felt like David—small but brave. They wanted me to be a symbol, which is like a special sign, of their city's courage.

When Michelangelo finally finished his work in 1504, it was time for me to meet the world. It took many men and many days to move me into the main city square, called the Piazza della Signoria. When they finally took down the wooden fence around me on September 8th, 1504, a hush fell over the crowd. Then, they cheered. They saw me standing tall and proud, not with a sword, but with a simple slingshot, ready to do something brave. I became their protector, a reminder that you don't have to be the biggest to be the strongest.

I stood in that sunny square for hundreds of years, watching the city grow and change. But the wind and rain began to wear me down. It was not safe for me to be outside anymore. So, in 1873, the people of Florence carefully moved me inside to a beautiful museum called the Galleria dell'Accademia, where I would be safe forever. Today, people from all over the world come to see me. They look up at me and remember that great things can come from quiet courage. And I hope they see that just like Michelangelo found a hero inside a block of stone, there is a hero inside every single one of them, too.