2 Minute Stories for Kids

At the end of Jake's street there was always a big puddle after rain. A really big one, stretching from the pavement all the way to the fence. Jake was convinced something lived in it. He'd seen ripples when there was no wind. He'd heard a low gurgling sound in the morning. Once he thought he'd seen an eye looking up at him from the dark water. "There's a monster in the puddle," he told his dad. His dad put on his wellies. "Let's go look." They walked to the end of the street. Jake held his dad's hand very tightly. His dad crouched at the edge of the puddle. "Come here, Jake. Look." Jake peered in. In the centre of the puddle, a fat grey frog sat on a half-submerged stone. It blinked at him. Then it opened its wide mouth and made a low, gurgling croak. Jake stared. Then he started laughing. "That's my monster?" he said. "He's quite a good monster," his dad said. "Those eyes. That voice." Jake looked at the frog again. It was a bit like a monster, actually. A very small, harmless, magnificent one. "I'm going to call him Gorgo," Jake decided. Gorgo croaked once and disappeared under the water. Jake walked home grinning. The scariest things, he thought, were usually just interesting things in disguise.

Pepper was a small round pea who lived on a dinner plate with fourteen of her friends. One evening, while the boy at the table was arguing about whether he had to eat his vegetables, Pepper rolled to the edge of the plate. And then right off the edge. She bounced once on the tablecloth, rolled to the edge of the table, and fell. She landed on the kitchen floor with a quiet click. The kitchen looked enormous from down there. The chair legs were like tree trunks. The fridge hummed like a distant waterfall. Pepper rolled carefully, exploring. She passed a cracker crumb and a forgotten grape. She rolled under the table. Then the dog's nose appeared, huge and sniffing. "Oh no," said Pepper. But the dog just sniffed politely and looked away. Too small, probably. Then a large warm hand came down from above. It was the boy's mother. "I see you," she said gently. She picked Pepper up, rinsed her at the sink, and placed her back on the plate. "There you go," the mother said. The boy looked at Pepper. He popped her in his mouth. "Not bad," he said. It was, Pepper decided in her final moment, a very good adventure for a pea.

Humphrey the bear woke up in November feeling completely confused. He looked around his cave. He looked at the snow on the ground outside. He checked the calendar on the cave wall. It was the first of November. "Oh no," Humphrey said. "I forgot to hibernate." He went outside. Everything was white and quiet. All the birds had gone south. The squirrels were deep in their burrows. Even his best friend Gerald the badger was snoring away in his underground den. Humphrey knocked on Gerald's door anyway. Snoring. He tried the robin's nest. Empty. He sat down in the snow and thought very hard. "Right," he said at last. "If nobody's awake, I'll just have to enjoy winter on my own." He made a snow bear. He went sledging on his tummy down the big hill three times. He found a frozen pond and slid across it making whooping noises. By late afternoon, he was cold, hungry, and very pleased with himself. He went home, ate the last of his autumn berries, and curled up in his cave with a satisfied smile. He'd only been asleep for ten minutes when Gerald knocked on his door. "Spring!" Gerald called. Humphrey opened one eye. "Already?" "You've been asleep since November," Gerald said, grinning. Humphrey stretched and yawned. He still thought his winter had been the best one.

Grandma's cookies were famous. They were soft in the middle and crispy at the edges and they tasted like something Mia couldn't quite name. Grandma had given Mia the recipe. All the ingredients were there: butter, sugar, flour, eggs, vanilla. Mia had followed every instruction exactly. But her cookies didn't taste the same. She called Grandma on the phone. "What am I doing wrong?" "Read me the recipe," Grandma said. Mia read it out. "I did everything it says." "Did you hum while you mixed?" Grandma asked. "Hum?" "I always hum my favourite song while I mix the batter. It keeps the right rhythm." Mia mixed a new batch, humming her favourite song all the way through. She put the cookies in the oven. When they came out, she took one bite. Not quite. But closer. On Saturday, Grandma came to visit. They made a batch together. Grandma hummed. She added a pinch of something from a small jar she kept in her apron pocket. She called it "the secret." "What is it?" Mia asked. Grandma smiled. "Patience. I always let the dough rest for twenty minutes before I roll it." Mia waited the twenty minutes. Those cookies tasted exactly right. Sometimes the secret ingredient is just time.

In the hallway cupboard, there lived a small blue umbrella named Skip. Skip was afraid of storms. The problem was that storms were the one thing Skip was supposed to be used in. Every time clouds gathered and thunder rumbled, Skip shook in the umbrella stand. "What if the rain is too heavy?" Skip worried. "What if the wind turns me inside out? What if I'm not strong enough?" One afternoon, a big storm rolled in. Thunder shook the windows. Rain hammered against the door. And then a small girl in a school uniform appeared, soaking wet and shivering on the front step. The door opened. A grown-up reached into the umbrella stand for Skip. Skip shook. This was it. But then Skip saw the girl's face. Cold, wet, and a bit frightened. "Okay," Skip said quietly to himself. "This is what I'm for." The grown-up handed Skip to the girl, who held him up over her head. The wind pushed. Skip pushed back. The rain hammered. Skip held firm. Three minutes later they were at the car, both slightly damp but safe and dry enough. "Good umbrella," the girl said, shaking Skip gently. Skip beamed. Being brave, Skip realised, didn't mean not being scared. It meant showing up anyway when someone needed you.

Sam walks to the store with his mom. A little red button falls from a man's coat. It rolls across the path and stops right by Sam's shoe. Sam stops and bends down. What a pretty button, he thinks. Sam picks it up. The button is shiny and red. It has four small holes. Sam turns it over in his hand. He smiles. He wants to keep it for himself. He slips the button into his pocket and keeps walking. But the button feels heavy in his pocket. It does not feel right. "Look, Mom!" says Sam. "A pretty red button!" "It is pretty," says Mom. "But it is not yours. Let us find the man who lost it." Sam looks up. The man is ahead on the sidewalk. His coat has one open spot where a button should be. "Excuse me!" calls Sam. He runs up to the man. "Did you lose a button?" The man pats his coat and laughs. "I did! I lost my best red button." Sam holds out the button. The man takes it and smiles very wide. "Thank you, little friend," the man says. "This button was a gift from my wife. It is my lucky button." "You are welcome," says Sam. The man waves and walks on down the street. Sam watches him go. "I am glad I gave it back," Sam says. "Me too," says Mom. "You did a very kind thing." Sam does not have a shiny button now. But his heart feels warm. That feels even better than a button.

Dana opens her lunch box at school. The bell has just rung for lunch. Everyone is hungry. Inside there are two sweet apples and one big cookie. Dana loves cookies more than anything. Her friend Leo sits next to her. Leo's bag is flat and empty. He pats it with a sad face. Leo forgot his lunch at home. He looks at his empty bag and frowns. "Are you okay, Leo?" asks Dana. "I forgot my lunch," says Leo. "My tummy is rumbling so loud." Dana looks at her cookie. She wants to eat the whole thing by herself. It is chocolate with white chips on top. Her mouth starts to water. She almost takes a big bite. Then she looks at Leo's sad face. "Here," says Dana. She breaks the cookie into two pieces. "You can have half of my cookie." Leo's eyes get very wide. "Really? Thank you, Dana! You are the best." They eat the cookie together. Then Dana gives Leo one of her apples too. "You are so nice," says Leo. "I was really, really hungry." "Friends share," says Dana. "That is what friends do." Dana only has one apple left now. But the cookie tastes much sweeter when she eats it with a friend. Leo tells the whole class what Dana did. Everyone says Dana is a good friend. She feels shy and happy at the same time. At the end of lunch, Leo smiles a big smile. Dana smiles too. Both of their hearts feel full and happy.

Milo's room is a big mess. It looks like a toy store fell over. Toys are all over the floor. Blocks are under the bed. Socks hang from the lamp. Milo cannot find his favorite red car. "Mom!" calls Milo. "I cannot find my red car anywhere!" Mom comes to the door and looks around. "Where did you last see it?" she asks. "I do not know," says Milo. "It could be hiding anywhere in this room." "Maybe it is time to clean up," says Mom. "Then you will find your car." Milo sighs. He does not want to clean. He wants to play outside. He wants to watch his cartoons. But he wants his red car more than anything. But he really wants his red car. So he starts to work. He puts the blocks in a big box. He puts the socks in a basket. He lines up his books on the shelf. He rolls the cars into a big bin. He even makes his bed and fluffs the pillow. The floor starts to show again. One by one, the room gets tidy. Then Milo lifts a pile of clothes. Something red is under it. It is his car! "I found it!" yells Milo. "My red car was right here!" "See?" says Mom with a smile. "A clean room is a happy room." Milo looks around his neat room. He likes it. Now he can zoom his red car all over the clean, open floor. Zoom, zoom! It goes faster than ever before.

There is a small silver bell on a high shelf. It is a very old bell. It used to ring long ago, before all the noise. It never rings, because the house is always too loud. The TV is on. The radio plays. The washing machine hums in the next room. People talk and laugh and shout. The poor little bell just sits there, quiet and still. One morning, a girl named Ava is home alone. The house is very quiet. No one is talking. No music is playing. It is so still that Ava can hear a bird sing outside. She looks up and sees the silver bell. "Hello, little bell," says Ava. "Why do you never ring?" The bell does not answer. It just sits on the shelf. Ava pulls a chair to the shelf. She climbs up and takes the bell in her hand. She holds it very still and listens. "Shhh," says Ava. "Let us be quiet together." The house is silent. No TV, no radio, no talking. Ava closes her eyes and listens hard. Then she shakes the bell just a little. Ding. Ding. Ding. The sound is soft and sweet. It floats through the quiet room like a tiny song. "I can hear you!" says Ava. "You have a pretty ring." Ava shakes the bell again. Ding, ding, ding. She smiles. All you need, she thinks, is to be quiet and listen. From that day on, Ava finds a quiet minute each day. She sits, listens, and rings the little bell. The soft sound makes her happy every time.

Nina and her friend Zoe are coloring at a small table. They have paper, markers, and one big box of crayons between them. They share one big box of crayons. Nina is drawing a purple house. Zoe is drawing a green frog. "I need the red crayon," says Zoe. "My frog needs a red tongue." "I had it first!" says Nina. She grabs the red crayon and pulls it from Zoe's hand. Snap! The red crayon breaks into two small pieces. Zoe looks at the broken crayon and starts to cry. "Now it is broken!" says Zoe. "You broke my favorite crayon." Nina looks down. She did not mean to break it. But she did grab it too hard. Her tummy feels heavy. She looks at the two pieces of red crayon on the floor. She did not mean to be rough. "Zoe," says Nina in a soft voice. "I am sorry. I should not have grabbed it." Zoe wipes her eyes. "It is okay," she says. "But I liked that crayon." Nina opens her own bag and takes out a brand new red crayon. It is still sharp and pointy, never used. "Here," she says. "You can have my new one. I am really sorry." Zoe smiles a little. "Thank you, Nina." "Friends?" asks Nina. "Friends," says Zoe. They sit down again and color together. Zoe draws a red tongue on her frog. Nina draws a red roof on her house. The table is quiet and happy again. Nina decides she will ask nicely next time instead of grabbing.

A tiny seed is planted in a pot of warm dirt. A boy named Ravi pats the soil and gives it water. "Grow, little seed, grow!" says Ravi every morning. The seed sits in the dark dirt. It is warm down there. It cannot see anything, but it can feel the water drip down. It wants to grow fast. It wants to see the sun. But nothing happens. The next day, Ravi looks at the pot. There is no green sprout. Just dirt. "Why are you not growing?" asks Ravi. The seed cannot talk. It just waits in the dark. Days pass. Ravi waters the pot. The sun shines down. Rain falls from the sky. Still, there is no sprout. "I think my seed is broken," says Ravi. "It will never grow." "Wait a little more," says his mom. "Good things take time." Ravi keeps waiting. He waters the pot every single day. He talks to the dirt too. 'Grow when you are ready,' he whispers. He does not give up. Then one morning, Ravi looks at the pot. Something small and green is pushing up through the dirt. "It is a sprout!" yells Ravi. "My seed grew!" The little green sprout is tiny, but it is strong. Day by day, it grows taller and taller. Soon it has two small leaves. Then four leaves. Then a tiny stem that reaches for the sun. Ravi smiles at his little plant. "You were just waiting," he says. "And I am glad I waited too."

Toby has a new blue bike. It has two wheels and shiny handles. Toby wants to ride it fast, but he does not know how yet. He climbs on the seat. He pushes the pedals. The bike does not move. It tips to the side and Toby tumbles onto the soft grass. The bike tips over and Toby falls on the grass. "Ouch!" says Toby. "I am done. Riding is too hard." "Try again," says his dad. "Everyone falls at first." Toby gets back on the bike. He pushes the pedals again. The bike wobbles left, then right. Down he goes again. "I keep falling!" says Toby. "I will never learn this." "One more try," says his dad. "You can do it." Toby is tired and his knees hurt. There is a little red mark on one knee. He brushes the dirt off. He looks at his dad, then at the bike. He takes a deep breath and climbs back on. This time he pushes off slowly. He keeps his eyes up and his feet moving. The bike stops wobbling. It rolls straight ahead. "I am doing it!" shouts Toby. "I am riding!" Toby rides across the yard all by himself. The wind touches his face. He feels like he is flying. "I told you," says his dad, clapping. "Trying again works." Toby grins from ear to ear. He did not give up, and now he can ride his blue bike. Tomorrow he will try to ride even farther. Maybe all the way to the big tree and back.

Mia has a small gray kitten named Pip. Every night when the lamp goes off, Pip meows and hides under the bed. Pip is afraid of the dark. When the room goes black, she cannot see her own paws. "What is wrong, Pip?" asks Mia. "Why are you hiding?" "The dark is scary," says Pip with a tiny meow. "I cannot see anything." Mia thinks for a minute. She remembers her night light shaped like a moon. She goes to her desk and turns on a small night light. It glows soft and warm, like a little star in the room. It pushes the dark into the corners. "Look, Pip," says Mia. "There is a light now. You are not alone in the dark." Pip peeks out from under the bed. She sees the warm glow on the wall. It is not so scary anymore. "Come here, Pip," says Mia. "I will stay right next to you." Pip crawls out slowly. She jumps onto the bed and curls up next to Mia. The little light glows softly all night. "You are very brave," says Mia, petting Pip's soft fur. Pip purrs. It is a soft, sleepy purr. She looks around the room. With the little light on, the dark is not so big or so scary. It feels cozy and warm. Soon Pip's eyes get heavy. She closes them and falls fast asleep, right next to her friend. The dark does not scare her anymore. Not one little bit. Pip sleeps soundly all night long.

In the middle of a small yard stands an old apple tree. Every fall, its branches hang low with big red apples. The apples are so heavy that the branches almost touch the grass. A boy named Kip lives next to the tree. He watches the apples grow all summer. When fall comes, the apples are ripe and ready. "Can I pick the apples?" Kip asks his mom. "Yes," says Mom. "The tree is full. There are too many for us to eat alone." Kip fills a big basket with apples. Red ones, sweet ones, shiny ones. The basket is heavy and full. Kip can smell the sweet apples as he carries it. "What will we do with so many apples?" asks Kip. "Let us share them," says Mom. "Sharing is a kind thing to do." Kip and his mom walk to the neighbors' houses. They give apples to the old man next door. They give apples to the family across the street. They give apples to the teacher down the road. "Thank you!" says everyone. "What sweet apples!" The old man bakes an apple pie. The family across the street makes apple juice. The teacher shares the apples with her class. Soon the whole street smells like apples. Everyone is smiling and happy. Kip looks at the empty basket and smiles. "The tree gave us apples," he says. "And we gave them to everyone. That feels good." The old tree stands tall and quiet. Its gift made a whole street happy. And the tree will grow new apples next year too.

Lila has a soft brown teddy bear named Coco. She takes Coco everywhere. To the park, to the store, and to bed every single night. But one day, Coco is gone. Lila looks under her bed. No Coco. She looks in the closet. No Coco. She looks in the toy box. Coco is not there either. "Oh no!" says Lila. "Where is Coco? I need my bear." Lila wants to ask for help, but she feels shy. She does not like to ask people for things. She looks alone for a long time, but she cannot find Coco. Her friend Juno comes over. "What is wrong, Lila?" asks Juno. "I lost my bear," says Lila in a small voice. "I looked everywhere." "Two people can look better than one," says Juno. "Let us look together." Lila smiles a little. She is glad she told her friend. They search the house together, room by room. They check the kitchen, the hallway, and under the stairs. "Did you look in the laundry basket?" asks Juno. Lila runs to the basket. She lifts the clothes. There, under a towel, is Coco the bear! "Here he is!" yells Lila. "Coco was in the basket!" Lila hugs her bear tight. Then she hugs Juno. She is so glad Coco is back. "Thank you for helping me," says Lila. "I was too shy to ask." "Asking for help is a good thing," says Juno. "I am glad you told me." Lila smiles. Next time she loses something, she will ask for help right away.

At the park there is a very tall slide. It twists down and down. Nia looks up at it and her legs feel shaky. The slide is taller than her house. "Do you want to try the big slide?" asks her dad. "No," says Nia. "It is too high. I am scared." "That is okay," says Dad. "You can try it when you are ready." Nia watches other kids slide down. They laugh and cheer. It looks fun, but it also looks so high. "Maybe I can try a little," says Nia. "Just one step." She climbs the ladder one step at a time. Her heart beats fast. She holds the rails very tight. "I am here with you," says Dad. "You are safe." Nia reaches the top. She looks down. It is a long, long way down. "I am scared," says Nia again. "That is okay," says Dad. "Being brave does not mean you are not scared. It means you try anyway." Nia takes a deep breath. She holds her dad's hand. She sits down at the top of the slide. "Ready?" asks Dad. "Ready," says Nia in a small voice. She lets go. Whoosh! Down she goes, around the twist, fast and smooth. The wind rushes past her face. "I did it!" yells Nia at the bottom. "That was fun!" Dad runs down and gives her a big hug. Nia is so proud. Her heart is still beating fast, but now she is smiling. She was brave, one small step at a time. And she will do it again tomorrow.

Max visits his grandpa on a sunny day. The sun is warm and the birds are singing in the trees. Grandpa has a little garden with tomatoes and carrots. But the garden is full of weeds. "Hello, Grandpa!" says Max. "Your garden looks messy today." "It sure does," says Grandpa with a sigh. "These weeds grew while I was resting my sore back. Now there is too much to do." Max looks at the weeds, then at his grandpa. Grandpa looks tired. His back hurts and he walks a little slowly. "Can I help you pull the weeds?" asks Max. Grandpa smiles. "That would be a big help. But it is a lot of work for a little boy." "I am strong," says Max. "Let me try." Max kneels in the dirt and pulls a weed. It comes out with a soft pop. He pulls another, and another. Grandpa works right next to him. "You are doing great," says Grandpa. "Look at that pile of weeds!" They work together all afternoon. Max's hands get dirty and his back gets tired, but he keeps going. Soon the garden is clean and neat. "You did it," says Grandpa. "My garden is happy again." "I like helping," says Max. "It was fun to work with you." Grandpa hugs Max. "You made my whole day better," he says. "Thank you, Max." Max smiles. Helping his grandpa feels even better than playing. He cannot wait to help again next week. Grandpa waves from the door as Max walks home.

Omar gets a bright yellow kite for his birthday. He cannot wait to fly it. The kite is bright yellow with a long red tail. On a windy day, he runs to the park with his dad. Omar throws the kite up. It wobbles and falls on the grass. He tries again. The kite goes up, then drops right back down. "This kite is broken!" says Omar. "It will not fly." "It is not broken," says Dad. "Flying a kite takes practice." Omar tries again and again. Each time, the kite spins and falls. Omar's arms get tired and his face gets red. He sits down on the grass and crosses his arms. "I give up," says Omar. "This is too hard." "One more try," says Dad. "Watch the wind. Wait for a big gust." Omar takes a deep breath. He holds the string and waits. The wind blows soft, then harder. A big gust comes. "Now!" shouts Dad. Omar throws the kite up and runs. The gust catches the kite and lifts it high. Up, up, up it goes. The yellow kite climbs into the blue sky. "It is flying!" yells Omar. "Look at it go!" Omar holds the string tight. The kite dances in the wind, higher and higher. It looks like a tiny yellow bird. "I am so proud of you," says Dad. "You did not give up." Omar grins. He almost quit, but he tried one more time. Now his kite is soaring above the clouds. It looks like a tiny yellow bird far away.

Bella is playing in the yard when she hears a small sound. Peep, peep. She looks down and sees a little bird under a bush. One of its wings hangs low. The bird does not try to fly. "Oh no," says Bella. "Little bird, are you hurt?" The bird peeps softly and does not fly away. Bella kneels down very slowly so she does not scare it. "Mom!" calls Bella. "Come quick! There is a hurt bird!" Mom comes outside and looks at the bird. "It has a hurt wing," she says. "We should help it." Bella runs inside and gets a soft box. She puts a warm cloth in the bottom. Then she very gently lifts the bird into the box. "Here you go, little bird," says Bella. "You are safe now." She gives the bird a small dish of water. The bird takes a tiny sip. Bella smiles. For three days, Bella takes care of the bird. She gives it water and little seeds. She talks to it in a soft voice. The bird's wing slowly gets better. On the fourth day, the bird flaps its wings and hops to the edge of the box. It is ready to fly. "Look, Mom!" says Bella. "It is all better!" Bella carries the box outside and opens it wide. The little bird hops out, flaps once, and flies up into the sky. "Goodbye, little bird!" calls Bella. She waves until the bird is gone. Her heart feels warm and happy. She helped a little bird get back to the sky.

On a cold winter night, the wind blows outside the window. It makes a low, whooshing sound. Ezra sits on the couch with a book, but he feels chilly. Grandma sits in her chair with a ball of soft blue yarn. The yarn is the color of the sky on a winter morning. She is knitting something big and warm. "What are you making, Grandma?" asks Ezra. "A surprise," says Grandma with a smile. "Come see in a minute." Ezra watches the needles go click, click, click. The blue blanket grows longer and longer in Grandma's lap. At last, Grandma holds up the blanket. "This is for you," she says. "To keep you warm on cold nights." Ezra wraps the blanket around his shoulders. It is soft and cozy. It smells a little like Grandma's warm house. Like cookies and tea. "Thank you, Grandma," says Ezra. "It is the warmest blanket ever." "Come here," says Grandma. "Let us read your book together." Ezra sits next to Grandma and spreads the blue blanket over both of them. They open the book and read. The wind howls outside, but under the blanket it is warm and quiet. "This is my favorite part of the day," says Ezra. "Mine too," says Grandma. "A warm blanket and a good book are all we need." Ezra leans on his grandma's shoulder. He feels safe and warm. He hopes Grandma will always sit here with him, wrapped in the soft blue blanket. Reading together makes the cold night feel warm and full of love.