There was a girl who went out picking flowers and raspberries and blueberries all day long. She carried a small metal pail. She was eight years old, old enough to know better and young enough to be a little girl about everything.
One day, as she grabbed her metal pail, her mother said to her, “Have fun!” And the girl smiled and waved. She skipped down the long gritty pebbled path in front of her house, and started walking slowly as she got to the woods. She made a whisper sound to herself, putting her finger over her lips, “Shhh.” She always told herself to quiet down as she was entering the woods. There were so many secrets in the woods that you could only see and hear if you yourself were not seen and not heard!
There was the thistle and the moss. There were the puddles and the ladybugs.
The little girl walked slowly and sometimes just stood waiting for nature to move all around her. Sometimes she saw rabbits hopping. Many times, she saw chipmunks and squirrels. In the spring, she had seens a whole duck family by the river. Her mother told her that other people had seen bears and wolves in the woods. The little girl had once seen a pretty, pretty fox. |
Most days, after she watched and looked, the girl always went to her main raspberry bushes and ate enough berries to have red, red lips, and after that, she usually got tired, and went to lie down in the sun.
This day, after she had stood still and had looked around, she went to her main raspberry bush and ate the raspberries. She was walking to the sunny clearing when she saw a beautiful flower. She stopped completely. Then she took a step closer. It was a soft-petaled flower. And the petals changed from an inner pink to an outer white layer. She stood and looked and looked at it.
“Hello,” said the flower.
“What?!” said the girl, taking a few steps back, looking around her in the woods.
“Hello,” said the flower again.
“Is that you, beautiful flower?” asked the girl bending down. “Yes, I am a camellia.” “You are a wonderful camellia,” said the girl, “I wish I were a beautiful colorful flower like you!” “Shh, shh,” said the pink camelia, “You don’t wish you were a flower like me! In the woods, what we wish is what happens.” |