The School of the Big Dark Forest
It was a very early September morning when Mrs. Raccoon stood at the end of Racum’s bed, calling his name repeatedly.
“Racum! Racum!” she called. “Come on son, it’s time to get up. School starts in an hour.”
“School!” thought Racum to himself as he pretended that he was sleeping. “Why do I have to go to school?”
Mrs. Racum bent over Racum’s bed and saw his eyelids flutter.
“Come on Racum!” she called. “I know you are awake.”
“Oh Mom!” cried Racum. “Why do I have to go to school? I can learn all kinds of things right here from you and Father.”
“Yes, that is true,” said Mrs. Raccoon. “However, there are many things that we won’t be able to teach you. Now, come on son. I don’t think that you would want to be late for your first day.”
Racum got up out of bed once his mother had left the room. He noticed that at the end of his bed lay a new shirt, a new pair of jeans, a new pair of socks and a new pair of shoes.
“Hum!” thought Racum to himself. “Maybe school will be fun after all.”
Quickly, Racum began to dress. As soon as he was finished, he went downstairs.
Mrs. Raccoon turned around to see her son, when she had heard him coming through the kitchen door.
“My don’t you look handsome this morning!” she exclaimed. “You are going to be the best looking animal at school this morning.”
“Good morning, son!” exclaimed Mr. Racum, who was reading the morning paper. “All ready for school?”
“Yes, Father,” said Racum. “Father, how come you aren’t at work, yet?”
“Well now,” said Mr. Raccoon. “You don’t think that I’d miss my son’s first day of school, now do you?”
“Are you going to drive me?” asked Racum, excitedly.
“Yes, son, I am,” smiled Mr. Raccoon.
“Oh boy!” exclaimed Racum.
“You’d better eat your breakfast,” said Mrs. Raccoon, setting a heaping bowl of porridge in front of Racum.
Racum ate his porridge as quickly as he could. Mrs. Raccoon handed him a large bag full of goodies for Racum’s lunch.
“Now, you be a good boy at school,” said Mrs. Raccoon, kissing Racum on the cheek. “Mind your manners, too?”
“Yes Mother,” said Racum. “I will.”
Racum found that he rather enjoyed school. He got to paint pictures, sing songs, play with some new friends and even hear some new stories that Mrs. Wise Owl read to the class.
“School’s not that bad,” said Racum to his parents that evening at the dinner table. “I had a rather fun day.”
“That is good, son,” said Mr. Raccoon. “I am very proud of you!”
Moral of this Story:
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