"The Chocolate Chip Cookie Tree"

By Paula Timpson

Artwork by Kevin Scott Collier, Author and Illustrator
© 2006  Paula Timpson, all rights reserved. 

Jimmy loved chocolate chip cookies.

One day, Jimmy planted a special seed he found. This seed was different. It was white as an egg and smelled like cocoa. It was the size of a pea and was light as a feather. That night, Jimmy dreamt a chocolate chip cookie tree grew in his backyard. It was filled with wonderful chocolate chip cookies.

Jimmy picked cookies off the tree and ate them.

“Wow! I grew a chocolate chip cookie tree!” Jimmy said. Jimmy watered his tree everyday. The sun shined on it. The cookies became warm.  Their scent made Jimmy hungry. He liked to sit near his chocolate chip cookie tree and read all kinds of books. Jimmy’s tree looked like a little apple tree. The branches became heavy with cookies, pulling them to the ground.

Jimmy believed in miracles.

His tree grew so many chocolate chip cookies, Jimmy began giving them away to the homeless.  He was happy. His dream came true.

Jimmy always wanted to make a difference in the world.

"Extra, Extra!"

By Tara Robbins

Artwork by Kevin Scott Collier, Author and Illustrator
© 2006  Tara Robbins, all rights reserved. 

"Guess what, mom?" Caleb shouted after school. "I'm the new editor for the school newspaper!"

"That's wonderful," Caleb's mom said. "When I was about your age I worked
on my school newspaper. It was a lot of fun but, a lot of hard work.”

"I have one problem. I'm not sure how to be an editor."

"You should talk to your friends, I'm sure they'll have some interesting story ideas." his mom suggested.

"Great idea, mom!"

And that is exactly what Caleb did. The next day, he talked to his friends.

"Does anybody have any news for my newspaper?" Caleb asked.

"I have some news," said Beth. "I heard that Travis Moone won't even talk to Liz Cole since she lost his history book. He hates her!"

"Wow!" said Caleb. "They used to be best friends. That is BIG news!"

Caleb spent the rest of the day gathering stories. When he got home from
school, he sat down at the computer and wrote the articles for the Mustang Review.

The next day, Caleb and Mrs. Willis, the newspaper class instructor, printed the new edition to be circulated to all the kids in the school.  Caleb started handing out copies to everyone.

At lunchtime, Travis stomped up to him. He looked mad.

"Caleb, why did you write that stuff about me and Liz? She won't even talk to me now!"

Then a bunch of other kids confronted Caleb, all yelling at him at once.

"I don't sleep with a teddy bear!" shouted Sue. "Everyone thinks I'm a baby!"

Caleb felt like crying. He looked around at all his angry friends. He dropped his carrot sticks on the table and ran out of the lunchroom.

"Mom, I don't want to go back to school," said Caleb.

"Why not?"
"Everybody says I put stuff that wasn't true into the paper," he explained. "Now all of my friends hate me!"

"Did you write things that were untrue?"

"I thought it was true," said Caleb.

His mother raised a curios eyebrow. “Did you ask the kids you were writing about?"

"No," Caleb said. "I guess I should have asked them."

"Would you want someone to ask you and not just print what they heard? You need to treat others the way you want to be treated. It's the Golden Rule,” his mother explained.

"That's a very good rule," Caleb admitted.

Caleb spent the rest of the afternoon writing a big letter for the front page of the Mustang Review. In it, he explained that he had been wrong to print things about people without talking to them first.

The next day, Caleb gave out the new edition of the newspaper. At lunchtime, he found
all of his friends waiting for him.

"I didn't mean to hurt anyone," Caleb explained.

"It took a lot of courage to say you did something wrong." Sue said.

"From now on, nothing goes into the paper until I check it out first!"

"Martina and the Elf"

By Barbara Bockman

Artwork by Kevin Scott Collier, Author and Illustrator
© 2006  Barbara Bockman, all rights reserved. 

"Hurry, Little Bit!" Martina’s big brother Ricky called to her. Martina tried to keep up with Ricky, but she didn’t have string bean legs like he did. Grandma called Ricky “String Bean.” “Why can’t you just wait for me?” Martina called back. But she knew that Ricky didn’t want to be seen with a little squirt like her. He always called her “Little Squirt” or “Little Bit.”

Grandma had promised each of them a book, and that’s why they were at the shopping center. Ricky had reached the bookstore first. He hopped from foot to foot waiting for Martina to catch up. Grandma trailed behind, glancing into windows along the shopping center arcade. Martina was half way between Ricky and Grandma. Martina knew that Grandma always kept her in her sight because she was little. Martina did not like being little. That made her different. And being different made her feel funny but not in a funny way. What she wanted was to be big so she could pick oranges from the trees in the garden that bordered the sidewalk.

When Martina reached the bookstore she paused and looked in the window. Was she ever surprised! A man standing on an upturned box was ringing up the sale of a book. “He’s little,” thought Martina.

As the customer left, the little man glanced toward the window and Martina jumped back out of sight. When she sneaked another peak, the little man smiled and waved to her. This time she did not jump back.

Grandma walked up. “Come inside, children,” she said, “I want to show you off to my friend who owns this store.” Ricky held the door open for Martina and Grandma.

“Good afternoon, Mary,” said the little man, stepping down from his box..

“Hello, Nathan,” said Grandma, “I brought my grandson, Ricky, and my granddaughter, Martina to meet you.”

“What a fine looking family you have, Mary,” said Mr. Nathan, shaking hands with Ricky and bowing to Martina.

Martina stared, excitement dancing in her eyes. This was so neat! Face to face with a grownup who was standing! He was different and he didn’t seem to mind at all.

“Are you one of Santa’s elves?” she asked.

Mr. Nathan laughed, “No, but Santa and I are both in the gift business.”

“That’s why we’re here. To get a gift. Grandma is going to give me a book and Ricky a book.”

“Your grandma is a generous lady. What are you interested in, Ricky?” asked Mr. Nathan.

“Today it’s airplanes,” said Ricky.

“And I’ll bet tomorrow it will be submarines,” said Mr. Nathan.

Ricky laughed and said, “Something like that.”

“And what kind of books do you like, Martina?” asked Mr. Nathan.

“I like books about dogs.”

“I have some very pretty books about dogs that are just waiting to go home with some pretty little girl like you. Come with me.”

Hand-in-hand little Martina and little Mr. Nathan walked to the picture book shelf. Grandma trailed behind, and Ricky went to find airplane books.

Grandma relaxed on the giant soft bookworm bench. Martina and Mr. Nathan sat cross-legged on the fluffy red reading carpet until Martina found just the right book. “This is the one I want,” she said, hugging a big picture book. “It’s all full of brown and white and black dogs and blue sky and yellow sunshine.” She held the book to her nose. “And I like the way it smells.”

After Grandma paid for the books that Martina and Ricky had chosen, they thanked Mr. Nathan. “Come again, any time,” Mr. Nathan invited with a smile.

As they left, Ricky held the door and said, “Come along, Little Bit.” Martina grinned up at him and said, “I like being little.” She marched proudly through the door, Grandma trailing behind.

Outside the bookstore, Martina took Grandma’s hand. “Grandma,” she said, “you don’t have to feel funny around someone who is different. Once you get to know them, they’re like anybody else.”

“Why, Martina,” said Grandma, her eyes twinkling, “you may be little on the outside, but you are big on the inside.”

"Harry Finds a New Home"

By Anja G. Devereaux

Artwork by Kevin Scott Collier, Author and Illustrator
© 2006  Anja G. Devereaux, all rights reserved. 

Harry lived inside a beautiful box on the top shelf of the toy shop.  He wore a bright red hat, which matched his bright red nose.  He wore blue overalls with a nice yellow shirt the colour of the sun.
    
One day, a lovely little girl called Sally pointed at him and wished to have him for her birthday.  He was so excited to be gift wrapped and leave the cold shelf of the toy shop.
    
Sally unwrapped Harry. Harry saw the biggest smile on the little girl’s face.  He smiled at her as she picked him up and hugged him so tight that it almost pushed the stuffing out of him.
    
Sally loved Harry and tucked him into bed at night with his own blanket. She took him for walks in her dolly pram when her Mummy went to the shops or to the park.  Sally would sit Harry at the table and feed him biscuits.  Harry was happy in his new home with Sally.
    
Then Christmas came and Sally wished for a doll called Barbie.  She was just so beautiful. All the little girls wanted to have her.  Harry became sad when Sally threw him under the bed.  It was dark and scary!
    
Sally also got a puppy for Christmas and he loved Sally’s toys.  The puppy found Harry under the bed and took him outside to play.  If only they could have head Harry screaming! The puppy tore his clothes and pulled his stuffing out and left him lying in the garden.
    
Sally’s dad saw the mess and threw Harry into the garbage bin.  The smell was awful!  A large truck stopped to empty the bin and Harry’s life with Sally came to an end.  He had no idea where he was going.
    
When Harry woke, he found himself lying on top of a bin surrounded by all sorts of things. There were old rusty wheels, pots and pans, tools and old bikes.  There were flies everywhere and people walked around looking at the junk that had been recycled from the rubbish truck.
    
The sun was shining on Harry’s face even though his legs were twisted and broken.  His hat had lost its shape and he looked dirty.
    
A young woman looked at Harry and took his picture.  She loved his smile.  Harry thought that this young woman might take him home.  She walked around taking pictures of other things, and in a while, she came back.
    
This  young lady’s name was Julie.  She picked Harry up and he instantly felt warm and loved. He couldn’t stop smiling.
    
Julie took Harry home, washed him and mended his body and his clothes.  She made him look like a new doll.
    
One sunny day, Julie took Harry in her arms and walked down a street to where children were playing outside.  She went up old rickety stairs and knocked on a door.  A little old lady carrying a knitting kit in her hand answered the door.

"Hello Mrs. Peters," said Julie. "I have come to give your granddaughter a present."

"You are a lovely girl Julie, please come in! Emma is in her bedroom."
    
Mrs Peters’s house was neat, but she was very poor.  There were shelves and shelves of old books, and everything smelled like baking cookies.

"Emma!" Mrs. Peters called out. "Julie is here to see you!"  Emma ran out. Her hair was tied in a ponytail.

"Hello Julie!" said a smiling Emma, shyly.

Emma had just turned six a few days ago.  Julie and Emma met at the park once and became great friends. Julie took Emma to the park every afternoon after work.  Emma loved playing with all the other children.
    
"I found someone special that is in need of love," Julie explained, crouching down by Emma’s side. "He never stops smiling, you know!"

"What is it?" Emma asked, excitedly.
   
Julie showed Emma the rag doll she had so lovingly stitched and washed. Emma put her arms out and grabbed the doll. She pulled him to her chest. Her eyes went wide with joy.

"I’ve saw this doll once in the toy shop!" she said, with recognition. "His name is Harry.  I’ve wished for him many times, but he was too expensive for my grandma to buy."

Julie grinned with astonishiment.

"Oh Julie, thank you so much! I love him," Emma cried with joy.

"You are welcome. The minute I saw Harry, I knew exactly who to give him to, and who would love him the most."

"Can we take him to the park Julie?"
    
Mrs. Peters smiled at Julie and Emma with joy.

"Thank you Julie," she whispered as Julie headed out to take Harry and Emma to the park. "Thank you so much…."

"The Black Shoes"

By Enid Reece

Artwork by Kevin Scott Collier, Author and Illustrator
© 2006 Enid Reece, all rights reserved. 

Tabitha ran her fingers along the row of books in the library. She pulled one out at random  ‘Nastella the Witch and the Black Shoes’ The picture of a witch flying on a broomstick, an evil grin on her face chasing a little girl looked exciting.  It was Halloween and she had decided that a scary story was just what she needed.

 “I’ve chosen my book, Mum,” she declared, pulling on her mother’s arm and holding up the book.

Her mother frowned looking at the title. “You’re sure, Tabitha, it looks a bit scary to me.  Thought you wanted a book about horses this week?”

“I’ve changed my mind.  Anyway it won’t be that scary, will it?” She chewed on her bottom lip and wondered if she had chosen wisely.

“No, I’m sure it will be fine,” her mother reassured her, taking the book and tucking it under her arm along with all the others.

Once home, Tabitha bounded up the stairs and lay on her bed.  She couldn’t wait to start reading about the evil witch. So absorbed in the scary tale, she didn’t notice the hours pass by and the sky darkening. She had just got to a good part where Nastella was being really evil.

 
She shivered and moved off the bed to close the curtains.  The cold night air had begun to steam up the glass and she noticed something had been written on it.  She screwed her eyes up, trying to make out the thin scrawl. Her finger traced the letters N A S T E L LA. She pulled her finger back from the window, shocked to find the name of the storybook witch on her bedroom window.  She quickly pulled the curtains closed blocking out any thoughts of witches called Nastella.

She moved back towards the bed but the noise of a tapping on the window stopped her.

“Who’s there?” she whispered, her body stiff with fright.

No answer, the tapping began again.

“I know you’re out there, who is it?” she said a little louder.

The tapping began once more.

Cautiously, she moved towards the window and peaked through a small gap.  Her mouth opened in shock, her eyes widened in horror.  It was Nastella, the witch from her book.  She turned her head towards the book on the bed; the picture of the witch had disappeared.  She turned her head once more to the window, greens eyes, purple lips and yellow teeth all smiled at her.

“Go away!” Tabitha screamed.  “Get back in my book, you evil crow!”

“Not until I get your black shoes,” hissed the witch, wobbling slightly on her broomstick.

“Black shoes,” whispered Tabitha.  “No, you’ve got it wrong, it’s Sophie’s shoes you’re after.  Sophie, the little girl in the book.  You’ve got the wrong little girl. My name is Tabitha, I’m only reading the story.”

“Those who borrow the book, become Sophie,” cackled Nastella, by way of explanation. “Now open the window my child and give me those shoes.”

“They’re my best pair, mummy only bought them for me last week.  I haven’t worn them yet. Anyway why do you want them?”

“Ah,” an evil smile formed on Nastella’s lips, “once I have your shoes, you will follow me and  be in my power. You will join my band of stolen children.  You will carryout all my evil wishes.”  Her long black painted fingernails scratched at the window.

“You’ve stolen children?” asked Tabitha, her eyes round with horror.

“Three or four,” admitted Nastella,  “although I must admit it’s been a bit slow this month, the book had been stuck on the library shelf for more than two weeks.  Usually it’s borrowed more often than that.  All the more children to catch in my net.”

“Well you’re not having me, so go away and bother somebody else,” declared Tabitha. “Anyway, I don’t want to be in your gang and another thing you bring all those children back, their mummies and daddies will be really worried about them.”

“I could put a spell on you,” said Nastella rubbing her chin.

“No, you can’t,” protested Tabitha, trying to be braver than she really felt.

“Can.”  Nastella replied her eyes boring into Tabitha’s.

“Stop doing that,” cried Tabitha covering here eyes to block out the hypnotic stare.

“Look, get the shoes, there’s a good girl. Life will be so much easier if you do as you are told.”

“No, I won’t. And you can’t hypnotise me, so there.”

“Course I can, been doing it for years.  Got a degree in it, top of the class.  Three stars and a half moon. Look on my hat.”  Her gnarled fingers pointed to the black hat placed firmly on her head emblazoned with her victory symbols.

“Not through a closed window, you can’t” replied Tabitha, feeling a little bit more confident.

“Mm. Yes that is a problem,” acknowledged Nastella rubbing her pointed chin.

“You could always open it.”

“Not a chance.”

“Not just a little bit.  I could slip in for a moment, just to keep warm.  I wouldn’t try anything.  I promise.”  She bared her yellow teeth once more and Tabitha was reminded of how evil she was.

“You can freeze out there for all I care.”

“That’s not very nice,” replied Nastella trying to put a hurt look on her face but not succeeding.

“Nice,” cried Tabitha, “ you don’t know the meaning of the word nice.  You jump out of my reading book, tap on my window, demand my shoes, tell me you’ve stolen children and now you want me to be nice.  No chance.”  Tabitha’s face was red with anger, she was no longer scared and was ready to do battle with the evil witch.

“Where are the other children,” she asked.

“Other children?” queried Nastella,  surprised at the change of subject.

“Yes, the ones you have stolen.”

“Oh them.  Hanging on the apple tree in your back garden. Why?”

“Oh, just curious.  Can I see them?”

“If you come out here,” was the instant reply.

“Mm, I’ll think about it.  But just bring them here first, just so I can make sure you’re not lying.”

“Lying.  Witches never lie,” retorted Nastella, her nose instantly growing another crooked inch.

“Oh, do it just for me,” pleaded Tabitha, batting her eyes lids and giving Nastella a winning smile.

“Mm.  Well okay then, “ she replied grudgingly and stuck two taloned fingers in her mouth and blew a harsh whistle.  Almost immediately four young children appeared, their faces white with terror, clinging onto newly made broomsticks.

“Okay, that’s my side of the bargain.  How about yours?” Nastella’s evil smile appeared once more.

“Okay,” said Tabitha, “just let me go and get my shoes. Before Nastella could reply she turned away from the window and went to collect her shoes that were at the end of her bed

“I have them,” she declared holding them up..

“Now my dear, come closer and open the window.  Don’t be afraid.  You’ll enjoy yourself with your new friends.”

“If you say so.”  Tabitha carefully opened the window pushing it back slowly inch-by-inch.

“That’s it, my dear,” came the encouraging tones.

Tabitha took a quick glimpse at the four frightened faces and gave them a wink of her eye. Nastella moved nearer the window, her hand reaching out to grab the shoes.  Tabitha pulled her hand back, the shoes just out of reach.  Nastella inched forward even further up her broomstick, her face almost inside the window. With a sudden movement Tabitha’s free hand shot out showering the witch’s face with powder.

“Agh,” spluttered the witch spitting powder out of her mouth. “Yuck it tastes disgusting.  What have you done?”

“You evil old crow,” cried Tabitha.  “It’s a magic potion. I found it at the back of the book. I only had to discover where all the other children had disappeared to and I could use the potion.  You made it easy for me.”

“You little madam,” screamed Nastella, unbalancing slightly on her broomstick. “Oh, oh what’s happening to me?" Desperately she hung onto her broomstick, which was trying to dislodge her from her seat.

“Your powers are disappearing, Nastella.  No more will you kidnap little children away from their mummies and daddies.  Go back to your nasty smelly cave and throw away your cauldron.  Your days of producing evil spells are over.”

Tabitha looked beyond Nastella’s shocked face, the children slowly dissolved before her eyes, their horrifying adventure now ended as they returned to their homes.  She turned to look at Nastella who was huffing and puffing and still trying the control her broomstick.  She reached out her hand and gave her a big push. 

The last she saw of Nastella was her hurtling through the sky, screaming in fear as she desperately clung onto the reversing broomstick.  Tabitha  looked over at the book. The cover had changed, Nastella the evil witch had been replaced with Kindella, the witch of goodness.

"Brothers are Forever"

By Bob Blackman

Artwork by Kevin Scott Collier, Author and Illustrator
© 2006 Bob Blackman, all rights reserved. 

If you go outside on a dark clear night and gaze at the northern sky, you will easily see the Big Dipper and the North Star. If you look just above the last star on the Big Dipper's handle, and slightly to the left, you will see the tiniest of stars.  It is so small that unless the sky is very clear, you may not be able to see it at all.  That tiny speck of light, billions of miles away, is really a beautiful, pink, planet named Puffen.  At least, that's what the beings who live there call it.
 
On the planet Puffen, there are two kinds of people; the Heavenlies and the Lowlies.  Princess Sassy is a ten year old Heavenly.  She looks very much like a human child except that she is only ten inches tall and she has silky, tiger striped, gold, wings that allow her to fly around like a beautiful butterfly.  Everyone on Puffen is tiny compared to Earth standards.  Even Sassy's parents are only foureen inches tall.
 
There are two differences between Heavenlies and Lowlies.  The first is that Lowlies don't have wings and cannot fly.  The second is that only a Heavenly can be a king, a queen, a prince or a princess. Sometimes, even in the same family one child might be born a Heavenly and another one born a Lowly.  One day, when she is grown up, Sassy will be crowned the Queen of Fluff. Fluff is the friendly little Puffen kingdom that Sassy’s parents now rule. Sassy has a younger brother, Victor, but he isn't a prince. He was born a Lowly without wings, so he can never be a prince or king.
 
It was a beautiful morning. The sky was the color of a thousand flamingos, except for the huge purple sun hanging like a giant grape in the eastern sky. Sassy stood on the palace wall.  She took a deep breath and smiled because the air smelled like fresh strawberries. Looking out over the peach colored lake in the village park, she spied Victor, laughing and splashing water as he swam.  Victor, is seven-years-old with big brown eyes and curly blonde hair.
 
Stepping off the edge of the wall, Sassy sailed down to the lake and landed in the velvety, lemon colored, sand at the water's edge.  "Hi, Victor," she yelled.
 
Victor turned in the water to see who was calling, and hollered back, "Hi, Sassy, just a minute, I'm coming out."  He stood up in the shallow water and walked to where Sassy was standing.  "I wish you could swim, Sassy.  The water is perfect this morning."
 
"Me too," said Sassy, "but the water would ruin my silky wings.  Sometimes, I wish that I had been born a Lowly and could swim with you."
 
"And sometimes, I wish that I could have wings and sail among the clouds with you."
 
Sassy couldn't swim and Victor couldn’t fly, but it didn't matter, they were still the best of friends -- at least they were until their cousins, Prince Marvel and Princess Majestic came to visit.
 
Marvel and Majestic were twins.  Their father, King Favor, and mother, Queen Grace, ruled Bounce, the largest, wealthiest and most distinguished kingdom on Puffen.  As far back as records were kept, no Lowly had ever been born into their royal family.
 
Marvel and Majestic liked Sassy but they always ignored Victor.  "Why do you play with that Lowly?" Majestic asked Sassy with a sneer.
 
"He's my brother," Sassy said, "we always play together."
 
"Aren't there any Heavenlies you can play with here in Fluff?" Majestic asked.
 
"There are lots of Heavenlies in Fluff, but Victor is a good brother and I like playing with him.
 
"But he can't even fly," said Marvel.  "How can you be friends with someone who can't fly?"
 
"We don't need to fly.  We walk on the beach, and sit and talk in the garden."
 
“Well, we’re not playing with him while we’re here,” said Majestic.  “When Heavenlies play with Lowlies, the Lowlies begin to think they’re is good as princes and princesses. It's not a good thing.”
 
This was very hard for Sassy, she loved her brother Victor, but Majestic and Marvel were older and she wanted them to like her and play with her.  Sassy had promised Victor, that she would take him to the park, where he could play on his skate board.  They both love skateboarding.  Sassy had to be careful, because if she'd fell, she might damage her fragile wings, but she was very good at lifting off the skateboard just before she started to tumble. She would simply float upward, then glide back down to the ground without so much as a scuff.  Victor didn't have to worry about wings, but neither did he have that safety net when he started to fall. He sometimes left the skate park with scrapes and bruises, but he didn't care.  Skateboarding was so much fun that a few bruises didn't even matter. Sassy admired her little brother, because he was a tough little kid, and he rarely cried when he fell. They had spent many happy afternoons laughing and talking while skating up and down the ramps and valleys of the skate park.
 
On this day, however, Majestic and Marvel had invited Sassy to go to the mall with them.  Sassy loved shopping, and she wanted to buy some gold-dust glitter to sprinkle on her wings.  Majestic always wore gold or silver glitter, and she sparkled like the stars when she flew. Sassy had never seen anything so beautiful, and she wanted some for herself.
 
It was a dilemma. She had promised to take Victor to the park, but she really wanted to go to the mall. “I can play with Victor anytime,” she told herself, “but Majestic and Marvel will only be here for a short time.  Victor will just have to understand."
 
Victor did not complain when Sassy told him that she could not take him to the park, “It’s okay,” he said, “I will pick some fresh carrots from my garden instead. We can eat them with dinner tonight,” but Sassy knew he was greatly disappointed.
 
Sassy, Marvel, and Majestic flew to the mall on a soft Scarlet breeze. It was a large two-story mall.  The main floor contained stores and every kind, carrying all of the supplies that anyone, Heavenly or Lowly might need.  Overlooking the main floor was a balcony filled with specialty shops. The balcony was a special place exclusively for Heavenlies. In fact, there were no stairs, escalators or elevators, so no lowly could ever ascend to these elite, fashionable stores.
 
 They stopped first at the glitter store, to sample the various flavors.  Sassy purchased gold glitter, Marvel selected a small vial of raspberry glitter, and Majestic chose a lime and strawberry mixture.  Next, they visited the salon were Marvel had his wingtips polished and shined. While they waited for Marvel, Sassy and Majestic sat perched upon the railing that surrounded the balcony.  They watched the Lowlies going in and out of the various stores, and occasionally Majestic commented on how horrible it must be to live one’s entire life on the ground.
 
"Yes," said Sassy, "I often wish that Victor could fly.  There are so many things we could do together if he had wings."
 
"It must be a very sad life for them," said Majestic, "but they're not very bright after all, so they probably don't even know what they're missing."
 
"That's not true." said Sassy, "Victor is very intelligent and he can do many things that I cannot do."
 
"I cannot imagine anything a lowly does that I would want to do.  They always have dust and dirt on their feet and its so disgusting.  I don't even like to be around them."
 
"That is not a nice thing to say, Majestic.  You should be ashamed of yourself. Sometimes I wish I were a Lowly, working in the garden, creating beautiful plants, with delicate flowers, and wondrous smells.  Victor and the Lowlies always keep our world so beautiful."
 
"Sassy, you were such a fool.  Can’t you see that God created us to be like Himself and the Lowlies were merely an afterthought created to serve us? Of course, they make our world beautiful, but they cannot really appreciate the beauty as we do." Majestic shook her finger as she spoke, making Sassy feel like a scolded Child.
 
A tear pooled in her eye.  Perhaps she was a fool, but she refused to believe that her brother Victor or any other Lowly had less merit than a Heavenly simply because they did not have wings. "You are mean, and prideful," said Sassy.  “I should have stayed with Victor.  I would rather be with him then with you."  And she flew from the balcony, out of the mall and back to her home.  That evening, neither Marvel or Majestic would speak to her but she didn’t care. She didn’t want to be friends with anyone who said bad things about Victor.
 
The next morning Marvel and Majestic returned to Bounce. “I’m sorry your friends had to go,” Victor told Sassy.
 
Sassy just hugged him and said, “Friends come and go, but brothers are forever.”
 
Victor, smiled at her and said, “I love you, Sassy.”
 
“I love you too,” said Sassy, and they spent the rest of the summer gardening, skateboarding and just enjoying being brother and sister.

"Heidi Helps"

By Shari Lyle-Soffe

Artwork by Kevin Scott Collier, Author and Illustrator
© 2006 Shari Lyle-Soffe all rights reserved. 

“I have a  headache,” said Mama.  “I need to rest.”

“I will watch  Patrick,” said Heidi.

“You can come get me when he wakes up.” Mama went to her bedroom to rest.

Heidi tiptoed into Patrick’s room.  He was still sleeping. I will do the dishes while
he sleeps, Heidi thought. She tied Mama’s apron around her waist.  It was too big.  Heidi tucked it in at the waist. She put the plug in the sink and turned on the water. She  squirted a little dishwashing liquid into the water.

“That isn’t very much,” she said. “Maybe more would be better.”

Patrick cried and Heidi ran to get him so he wouldn’t wake Mama. 
       
“Good morning, Patrick,” she said.

Patrick gurgled, and bounced up and down in his crib. Heidi checked his diaper.

“You are wet,” she said, “I’ll change your diaper.”

Heidi searched the closet.  No diapers!  How could she change Patrick?

“Ma - ma - ma.”  Patrick tugged at the wet diaper.

Heidi had an idea. She ran to the laundry room. She found clean dish towels and a roll of  her father’s duct tape. That would work! Father used duct tape to fix everything.  She lay Patrick down and took off the wet diaper.  She folded the dish towel and taped the sides with  big pieces of duct tape.

“Perfect,” she said, “and I didn’t have to wake Mama.”

She carried Patrick to the kitchen. Mountains and mountains of soapsuds spilled out of the sink and covered the floor.
   
“No problem,” she said. “They’re just bubbles.”

She put Patrick in his playpen and gave him a bottle. Then she waded through the suds to get the mop and bucket out of the closet.  Heidi mopped and mopped, again and again until the last bubble was gone. Heidi plopped onto the chair exhausted. Patrick fussed.  It was lunchtime. Heidi washed her hands and poured cereal rings into a plastic cup. She gave them to Patrick.  She peeled a banana and gave Patrick half. She ate the other half.

“Mama’s job is hard,” Heidi said.

“Wet,” said Patrick tugging at his dish towel diaper.

Heidi taped a fresh dish towel on Patrick and put him down for a nap. She went back to the kitchen to finish washing the dishes. Heidi scrubbed the kitchen until it sparkled. 

“Heidi?” Mama stood in the doorway.
   
“Is your headache gone?” Heidi asked.

“Yes,” Mama said.  “Why didn’t you wake me?”

“You needed your rest,” Heidi said. 
   
“I see you did the dishes, and scrubbed the floor,” Mama said beaming. “Did you have any trouble?”

Heidi giggled and blushed as she remembered the duct taped diapers and the bubbles.

“No,” she said, “no trouble at all.”

By Shelagh Young

Artwork by Kevin Scott Collier, Author and Illustrator
© 2006 Shelagh Young, all rights reserved. 

"You're not afraid of the dark are you?”

George’s big sister Hannah was using her horrible voice. She tugged on mum’s hand dragging her away from George’s bedroom door. Behind them George could see a mountain of Hannah’s own toys cluttering the landing. It was horrible having such a messy sister. George liked to keep his own room neat and tidy.

“Hang on Hannah. I haven’t put his night light on.”

“What a baby!” Hannah said, stabbing her sparkling fairy’s wand into George’s favourite teddy’s eye.

“You can leave it tonight Mum.” George said. 

He poked his tongue out at Hannah who was busy pulling all his engines out of their box and shoving them out of his room and across the landing. Hannah smirked and dragged his teddy out too. Mum sighed as Hannah chucked teddy down the stairs.

“Just ignore her,” she said. George tried to unclench his fists. Hannah made him so angry. He peeked over the edge of his duvet at his mum as he snuggled down. It was just as he had expected. His mum was looking puzzled. 

“Are you sure about the night light sweetie?”

George nodded. A happy feeling bubbled up inside. She was going to be so proud of him.

“Absolutely, totally sure.”

He grinned as his Mum tiptoed across his room leaving Hannah twirling about on the landing on her own. He noticed one of her fairy wings was broken and her hair was all messy as usual. He sighed.  Mum perched on the edge of his special Thomas the Tank Engine duvet cover. She stroked his fringe back from his forehead and gave him an extra goodnight kiss.

“You’re very grown up all of a sudden.”

George thought about this for a minute.

“I’m still only four.”

His Mum laughed.

“But I’m not afraid of the dark anymore.”

George looked up at the window. He could not wait for it to get really, really dark. He took a deep breath and wiggled his toes. He had been waiting to tell someone about his special discovery all day. In fact he was bursting with excitement.

“Do you know why?”

His mum shook her head. George grabbed her hand.

“I’ll show you.”

He wiggled out from under the duvet, and dragged his mum to the window. He pulled back the dark blue curtains. Outside it was still just light enough to see the garden.

“See.” He said. “I know where the dark comes from. Bet you can’t guess.”

His mum closed her eyes and looked like she was thinking very hard.

“Is it something to do with the sun setting?” She asked.

George thought about this.

“What do you mean?” He asked. “Like a jelly?”

His mum laughed and shook her head. George tugged her hand.

“Try again.”

Mum looked around the garden.

“It’s no good. I give up. Tell me where the dark comes from.”

George grinned in triumph. He knew he was on to something special. Grown-ups didn’t know everything after all.

“Well you see those cracks,” he said, pointing at the paving stones on the terrace below his window. “The dark comes out of there at night.”

Mummy gazed down and hugged George to her.

“Well,” she said. “I do understand that but it does make me wonder why it is always dark in the shed?”

George was ready for this. He had been thinking about it all day.

“It’s obvious. It gets stuck in there when you close the door!”

Mummy looked thoughtful.

“So when I’ve tucked you into bed again, I’d better leave the door open.”

George nodded quickly. He really did not want to end up stuck in his bedroom with a lot of dark trapped in it. Mum closed the curtains and led him back to bed. She helped him snuggle back under the duvet. When she turned off the night light the room became a little bit darker but the light from the hall fell across George’s face.

“See,” He said. “I don’t need the night light if the door is open. All that dark has escaped already.”

Hannah pranced back into view, tripped over a pile of Barbies and prodded her mum’s leg with her sharp little wand.

“If that’s so,” She said. “Why is it always dark under our beds?”

George trembled. He had not thought of that. He looked up at his mum. She was rubbing her sore leg.

“Because some people are so untidy,” She paused and pointed at Hannah’s clutter strewn across the landing. “The dark cannot escape through all the mess.”

Sometimes, thought George, mums can be smarter than you think.

By Lisa Robertson

Artwork by Kevin Scott Collier, Author and Illustrator
© 2006 Lisa Robertson, all rights reserved. 

Pickle the echidna was grumpy. He was tired of eating ants and termites.

"I want something yummy for breakfast," said Pickle, as he pushed his bowl away. "Why can’t l eat what you eat Rosie?" asked Pickle.

"Because echidnas eat ants and termites, that’s what echidnas eat! And fairies eat scones and pancakes," said Rosie, as she munched on another scone.

"Ants and termites are boring," said Pickle. "How would you like to eat nothing but ants?"

"Hmmmm," said Rosie. "You’re right Pickle, l wouldn’t!"

Rosie felt sorry for Pickle. She went to the kitchen and brought back a plate of delicious food. "I hope you don’t get a tummy ache," said Rosie.

Pickle ate all the food on his plate. "Yum, yum," he said. But as Pickle put the last bit of pumpkin scone in his mouth, something very strange happened. Pickle felt hot and a little odd.

"Oh no, what’s happening?" he asked. First Pickle’s paws changed colour. Then his body changed colour. He was no longer a brown echidna, he was now a  - - -lime green echidna.

Rosie gasped. "Oh zikes, it must have been the grapes," she said.

"Do something Rosie, I can’t stay green, everyone will laugh at me," said Pickle.

"Let me think." said Rosie.

"Think faster Rosie!" said Pickle.

"Food spells, food spells," muttered Rosie. "Who knows about food spells? I don’t now how to change your colour back, but I know someone who does," said Rosie

"Who?" asked Pickle.

"Wild Wilber is the person we need. He lives in the land of Wid," said Rosie. "Let’s go now Pickle, It is a long journey."

They got on their bike and off they went. Pedal, pedal, pedal. Up, up, up the hill they went. Puff, puff, puff they puffed. Until they came to a canyon.

"Oh no!" Rosie cried.

"Oh no!" Pickle sighed.

Mr Emu had a stall selling balloon rides, the only way across.

"I’m scared of heights," said Rosie

"Come on Rosie, let’s go. We can do it. I can’t stay green forever."

"Close your eyes Rosie, that might help. And before you can say what colour are Pickle’s prickles, we will be on the other side."

"Thank you, Mr. Emu, that was an exciting ride. You can open your eyes now Rosie," said Pickle.

They got on their bike and off they went again. Soon the sky became dark and the wind whizzed through the trees. Suddenly, crash, zing, clang.

"What’s that noise?" asked Pickle.

"Follow me!" said Rosie. "They ran to a hollow tree and climbed in just as the storm hit."

The sky lit up like flashing lights on a Christmas tree. Yellow, red, white and green lights danced across the sky. Pickle and Rosie huddled together with hands over their ears. The storm ended.

"Let’s go," said Rosie.

They came to a forest. All the trees were the colour of a rainbow. "The land of Wid," said Rosie. Sudddenly, there was a crash, a howl and a thwack sound in the trees. Roar, roar, stomp, stomp, stamp, stamp. A big purple monster charged out of the trees towards them.

"This is my swamp," he said.

"Give me that bike or l won’t let you through." Rosie got out her wand and waved it at the bunyip, while Pickle hid behind her.

"Behave yourself or l will cast a spell on you," said Rosie.

The monster looked surprised, he hadn’t realized that Rosie was a fairy. "You don’t look like a fairy" he said.

"Well l am, and you are a big bully and a coward," said Rosie.

"You are right, l am," replied the monster.

"You can go through the swamp, l won’t take your bike."

"Come on," said Pickle. "l’m tired of being green."

Soon the forest opened up to a clearing. "Oh Rosie, a café!"

"Look its Wild Wilber," said Rosie.

Behind the counter stood a blue monster, with yellow hair and green spots. He whistled and sang as he made milkshakes.

"He’s not wild at all," said Pickle happily.

Pickle and Rosie told Wild Wilber about their problem.

"Can you change Pickle back to his brown colour?" asked Rosie.

"Let me see," said Wild Wilber. "A food and colour reaction, hmmm. Gloopy blue fritters with peach pip sauce should do the trick,’ said Wild Wilber. "A dash of this, and a pinch of that, a bit of this and a smidge of that." Shake, shake, shake.

"Eat this Pickle," said Wild Wilber. Pickle ate the gloopy blue fritters, and everyone waited, and waited and waited. Pickle felt strange again, and then his paws changed back to brown. The color crept up his legs and to his prickles. Soon he was brown again.

"Hooray, Pickles is brown again," yelled Rosie. "Let’s celebrate!" said Wild Wilber.

Rosie and Wild Wilber ate Rainbow pizzas, a monster’s favourite, and Pickle had a bowl of ants with a little chocolate sauce. "No more grapes and scones for me!" said Pickle.

"Rosie we better go home soon, we have a long way to go," said Pickle.

"Take the Rainbow Train." said Wild Wilber.

"The Rainbow Train? ‘What’s that?" asked Rosie.

"Follow me." said Wild Wilber.

Across the street, was a platform and a ticket box. A Platypus named Olly called out, "The Rainbow Train leaves in five minutes!"

"Two tickets please’ said Rosie."

"Look Rosie, a rainbow," said Pickle.

Down at the end of the platform was the most beautiful rainbow.

"And here comes the train," said Wild Wilber, as a little red train chuff, chuff chuffed into the station.

"Thank you for everything Wild Wilber," said Pickle as they both gave him a big hug.

"Pleased to help,’ said Wild Wilber. "Now hurry, or you will miss the train!"

Pickle and Rosie climbed quickly onto the train, and had just sat down when the whistle sang, toooot tooot, tooot tooooot. The train moved slowly out of the station.

"Bye Wilber, bye!" they called as they waved out of  the window.

"Have a good journey home!" yelled Wild Wilber.

The Rainbow Train went faster and faster, and suddenly it flew into the air and began to climb the rainbow. Soon they would be home. They were very tired, but too excited to sleep.

"It’s not everyday you get to travel on the Rainbow Train!" Pickle said to Rosie with a smile.

"Wishing For A Sled"

By Doris Licameli

Artwork by Kevin Scott Collier, Author and Illustrator
© 2006 Doris Licameli, all rights reserved.

THE END

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