The Broken Railing
“It is a beautiful spring day,” said Mama Acorn, her voice as soft as the petals that adorned the nearby daffodils. She stood on the porch, her tiny acorn feet sinking into the sun-warmed wood.
Papa Acorn nodded, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He watched over Baby Acorn, who toddled around their house, chubby cheeks flushed with excitement. Mama Acorn had decided it was time for spring cleaning—the remnants of winter clung stubbornly to every nook and cranny.
As Mama Acorn swept away the last vestiges of snow, she stepped out onto the porch.
“Be careful!” Papa Acorn warned, glancing at the broken back railing. “I never got around to fixing that.”
But just as the words left his lips, Mama Acorn took a step back, and the railing gave way. She tumbled to the ground, her acorn shell rolling. Thankfully, she landed on a bed of moss, unharmed.
“Oh dear!” fretted Papa Acorn. “I tried to warn you, but I was a little too late. Are you okay? You didn’t hurt yourself, did you?”
“I am fine,” Mama Acorn assured him, pushing herself upright.
“Okay, good!” Papa Acorn sighed in relief. “I’ll figure out a way to get you back up here, and then I’ll fix that railing.”
Mama Acorn surveyed her predicament. As an acorn, she lacked arms, but her two feet were surprisingly nimble. She hopped over to the base of their ancient oak tree, seeking shade.
Suddenly, a rustling sound caught her attention. A snake slithered toward her, its scales shimmering in the sunlight.
“A snake!” screamed Mama Acorn, panic surging through her.
“Oh dear!” cried Papa Acorn, feeling helpless until he recognized the familiar pattern on the snake’s back.
“That snake is Silly Snake,” Papa Acorn chuckled, recognizing their old friend. “He’s harmless!”
“Oh!” Mama Acorn quivered. “Thank goodness!”
Silly Snake approached, his eyes bright. “What are you doing out here?” he asked, his forked tongue flickering.
“I fell from the porch,” Mama Acorn explained. “Without arms, I can’t climb back up.”
Silly Snake glanced up at the broken railing. “Climb on my back,” he offered. “Wrap your legs tightly around me. I’ll get you back into the tree.”
Mama Acorn hopped onto Silly Snake’s sinuous form. Slowly, methodically, he slithered upward, each scale gripping the rough bark. Mama Acorn marveled at the view—the world from a snake’s perspective.
Back on the porch, Papa Acorn handed Silly Snake a drink of water.
“Let’s get that railing fixed,” Silly Snake said with concern. “It’s dangerous.”
“But you’re just like I am,” Papa Acorn pointed out. “No arms either.”
“True,” Silly Snake agreed. “But I have a tail.” He gestured to the sturdy appendage. “My tail can hold the railing in place while you hammer it with one foot.”
Together, they repaired the railing. Mama Acorn prepared lunch, and Silly Snake joined them, coiled comfortably on a nearby branch. His gratitude was evident in the way he savored each crumb.
As the sun dipped low, casting golden rays through the oak leaves, the Acorn family watched Silly Snake slither down the tree.
“Now that,” Mama Acorn said, “is what you call a true friend.”
“True friend,” echoed Baby Acorn, his eyes wide with wonder.
And so, in the heart of the enchanted oak tree, friendship bloomed like spring blossoms, weaving a tale of trust, resilience, and the magic that bound them all together.
Moral of this Story:
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