Then he waited.
and waited.
and waited.
and waited.
And as time went by his hope faded more and more. For while he was waiting, he saw some of his companions choosen to be toys (he learned that was the name for the wonderful small objects.) Some where made into doorstops or wedges. But more recently, some were even turned into firewood.
This was more than Arthur could take. One day he cried, "This is the end. My opportunity to become a toy has past. I am destined for firewood. I should have enjoyed being a tree." His fellow pieces of wood agreed.