30 Minute Stories for Kids

"Tell me the longest story in the world," Maya said, snuggling under her blanket. "The longest?" Grandma asked, settling into the rocking chair. "That could take all night." "I will stay awake," Maya promised. "I want a story that goes on and on." So Grandma began. It started with a little fish who wanted to see the whole ocean. The fish swam past a red coral garden, then a school of silver minnows, then a friendly old turtle who moved very slowly. "The turtle spoke so slowly," Grandma said, "that by the time he said hello, the fish had seen three more small treasures." Maya giggled. "What happened next?" "The fish swam on," Grandma said. She told of a cave of glowing stones, a whale with a booming voice, and a treasure chest guarded by a shy octopus. Maya's eyes were getting heavy, but she did not want the story to end. "Keep going," she whispered. Grandma kept going. The fish grew big and brave. It crossed the whole ocean, all the way to the far shore, and finally made it home to its own small reef. "And there," Grandma said softly, "the fish saw that home was the best place after all." Maya smiled, half asleep. "That was a good long story," she murmured. "It was," Grandma said, kissing her head. "But do you know the best part?" "The ocean?" Maya asked. "No," Grandma said. "The best part was the two of us, sitting here together for every single page." Maya drifted off, warm and happy. She had asked for the longest story in the world, and she had learned that a good story is worth taking your time over. Every page, every slow minute, was a little gift she would keep.

Everyone in the meadow was always in a hurry. The bees buzzed past. The rabbits hopped by. Even the ants marched like they were late for something important. Everyone except Cecil the snail. Cecil did everything slowly. When the others asked why he was so slow, Cecil just smiled. "I like to see where I am going," he said. One evening, Cecil started his long walk home. It would take him a while, and he did not mind one bit. Along the way, he saw a spider's web with morning dew on it, sparkling like tiny beads. He saw a blue butterfly resting on a yellow flower. He saw a ladybug with seven spots, and he counted them slowly. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven. "How pretty," Cecil said to himself. By the time he reached the meadow gate, the sun was setting. His friends were already home, but they had missed everything. "Where have you been?" asked Benny the rabbit. "Walking home," Cecil said. "And I saw the dew on the spider's web, and a blue butterfly, and a ladybug with seven spots." Benny blinked. "I walked the same path and saw none of that." "That is because you were running," Cecil said gently. "The good things do not wave at you. You have to go slow enough to see them." The next evening, Benny walked home beside Cecil, slowly. And for the first time, Benny saw the sparkling web, the blue butterfly, and the ladybug with seven spots. "Thank you, Cecil," Benny said. "Slow is not so bad after all." Cecil smiled. "There is a lot to see," he said, "if you give yourself the time."

Every night, when the clock said seven thirty, Lila's grandma would come to her room for something special. It was called the half hour. "Thirty whole minutes," Grandma would say, pulling up a chair. "Just for you and me. No rushing, no hurry." The half hour always started with a story. Grandma read slowly, doing different voices for every character. Lila loved the funny voice she used for the duck. Then they would sing a song, soft and slow, about a boat on a quiet river. Lila would hum along. Then Grandma would tell her about the day. What she had cooked, what she had seen, who had called. Lila would tell Grandma about her day too, every small part of it. Some nights Lila wished the half hour would never end. "Grandma," she asked one night, "why do you always stay so long?" "Because growing up happens fast," Grandma said. "But a person only gets so many half hours with the people they love. I want to use every single minute of mine." Lila thought about that. The half hour felt long and cozy, but also, somehow, just right. That night, Lila held Grandma's hand and did not let go until the very last song. When the clock struck eight, Grandma tucked the blanket under her chin and kissed her forehead. Lila had learned that time with someone you love is never wasted. In fact, it is the best time of all. "Goodnight, my girl," Grandma whispered. "Goodnight, Grandma," Lila said, already looking forward to tomorrow's half hour.

In the town library stood a book so big it had its own table. It was called the Big Book, and nobody had ever finished it. "It is too long," the other kids said. "Nobody has that much time." But Ella was curious. She opened the front cover one Tuesday and read the first page. It was about a girl who could talk to the wind. The next night, Ella came back and read the second page. Then the third. Some pages were about dragons. Some were about ships. Some were about a tiny village at the top of a hill. Night after night, Ella read. She read through the spring and into the summer. The Big Book grew slowly smaller, one page at a time. Her friend Leo asked, "Why do you keep reading that huge old thing? You will never finish." "I am not trying to finish it all at once," Ella said. "I just read a little each night. Watch." She showed Leo her bookmark, tucked near the end. "I am almost done," she said. "One page at a time is all it ever took." Leo sat down beside her. The next night, he came back too. Together, they read the last few pages of the Big Book. On the very last page, there was a picture of the girl who could talk to the wind, waving at the reader. Ella waved back. "You did it," Leo said. "We did it," Ella said. "Big things are only scary if you try to do them all at once." Ella closed the Big Book and smiled. It had taken a long time, but she had read every single page. And that, she knew, was how you finish anything big. One page at a time.

Every night, the stars came out and twinkled as fast as they could. The moon had told them the faster they twinkled, the sooner the children would fall asleep. Twinkle fast, the stars told each other. Twinkle, twinkle, twinkle, quick quick quick. But one small star named Polaris did not want to rush. "Why must we twinkle so fast?" she asked. "So the children sleep sooner," said a big bright star. "That is our job." "But the children do not look ready to sleep," Polaris said. "They look wide awake." It was true. Down on Earth, the children were staring at the sky, wide eyed, because the fast twinkling was too busy and bright. It kept them awake instead of helping them rest. Polaris tried something different. She twinkled slowly. Twinkle. A pause. Twinkle. A soft, steady glow. One child noticed. "Look," he said to his mother, "that star is twinkling slowly. It is so calm." His mother smiled. "Then let us watch it for a while." The slow, steady light of Polaris spread across the sky. One by one, the other stars slowed down too, until the whole sky glowed soft and gentle. Down on Earth, the children began to yawn. Their eyes grew heavy. The slow twinkling felt like a lullaby. "You were right," the big star whispered to Polaris. "Slow and steady works better than fast and busy." Polaris glowed warmly. "Some things," she said, "are worth taking your time over." And that night, every child fell asleep to a sky full of slow, gentle stars, all because one little star was brave enough to slow down.

Tom was a small green turtle. He lived by a wide blue pond. All of his friends were fast. The rabbits could run. The birds could fly. Tom could only walk. He walked one step at a time. "Come on, Tom! You are too slow!" the rabbits called. Tom did not mind. He liked to look at things. He saw the red flowers by the path. He saw the little bugs in the grass. He saw the way the sun went down in gold and pink. One night, the animals said, "Let us race up the hill to watch the stars!" The rabbits ran fast. The birds flew fast. Tom walked slow and steady. He took one step. Then he took another step. Soon the rabbits got tired. "We will rest for a little while," they said. They sat down under a bush and fell fast asleep. The birds got tired too. They closed their eyes in a tall tree. Tom kept walking. Up and up the hill he went. One step at a time. He did not stop. He did not look back. When Tom reached the top, the sky was full of stars. Big stars. Small stars. Bright stars that seemed to wink at him. He sat down and watched them all night long. In the morning, the rabbits and birds woke up. They ran up the hill to see. "Tom! You are already here!" they said. "Yes," said Tom. "I walked all night. I saw every star in the sky." "But we are faster than you," said a rabbit. "How did you get here first?" "You were fast," said Tom. "But you stopped to sleep. I just kept going. Slow and steady wins the night." His friends smiled at him. "Next time, we will walk with you, Tom," they said. From that night on, they all walked up the hill together. Step by step. And together, they saw the stars too.

Milo had a red kite. It had a long blue tail. Milo loved that kite more than any toy in his room. On windy days, he ran in the park and let the kite fly high. One day, the wind blew very hard. Whoosh! The kite pulled away from Milo's hand. It flew up, up, up, and landed in a very tall tree. "Oh no!" said Milo. "My kite is stuck!" Milo jumped up to reach it. He was too small. He shook the tree with both hands. The kite did not move. He called up to the kite, "Please come down!" But the kite stayed in the branches. "I will get a stick," he said. He found a short stick. It did not reach. Then he found a longer stick. It did not reach the kite either. Milo sat down on the grass. He felt sad. But he did not want to give up. "I can try again," he said to himself. "I will make a plan." He tied two sticks together with his shoe lace. Now the stick was long. Still, it did not reach the kite. Then Milo had a new idea. He tied a small cup to the end of the long stick. He filled the cup with water from the pond. He reached up high and poured the water onto the branch. The branch was wet and heavy now. Milo pushed the wet branch with his stick. It bent down. Down came the branch. And down came the red kite, right into Milo's hands. "I got it!" he shouted. "I got my kite back!" Milo hugged his kite tight. He looked up at the tall tree and smiled. "I did not give up," he said, "and I found a way." From that day on, Milo always said, "Keep trying, and you will find a way."

Pip was a little red boat. He lived in a small blue bay. Every day, big boats sailed out to the deep sea. Pip stayed close to the shore. "Why do you stay here, Pip?" asked a big white boat. "The waves are too big," said Pip. "I am scared." The other boats laughed a little. "The sea is fun!" they said. But Pip stayed near the sand. One sunny day, a little bird fell into the water. She was far from the shore. "Help! Help!" she called. "I cannot swim!" The big boats were all out at sea. There was no one to help. Only Pip was close by. Pip looked at the waves. They were big and blue and scary. Then he looked at the little bird. She was so small and so scared. "I can do this," Pip said to himself. "I can be brave." Pip pushed off from the shore. He moved into the water. The waves rocked him side to side. He felt scared. But he kept going. Slowly, Pip sailed out to the little bird. "Climb onto me!" he called. The little bird climbed onto Pip. She was cold and wet and shaking. "Hold on tight," said Pip. "I will take you home." Pip turned around and sailed back to the shore. The waves pushed him, but he did not stop. Soon they reached the warm sand. "Thank you, Pip!" said the little bird. "You saved me!" "You are welcome," said Pip. He smiled a big smile. "I was scared, but I did it anyway." The other boats came back and cheered for Pip. "You are brave!" they said. From that day on, Pip sailed a little farther every day. And he knew that being brave meant doing the hard thing to help a friend.

Rosa went to the fair with her family. She got one big blue balloon. It was the most pretty thing she had ever seen. She held the string tight and did not let go. "Can I hold it?" asked her little brother, Ben. "No," said Rosa. "It is my balloon." Ben looked at the balloon. He looked at Rosa. Then he looked at his shoes and felt sad. Rosa walked around the fair with her balloon. She saw a clown. She saw a pony. She saw a big wheel that turned round and round. But something felt wrong. Rosa looked back. Ben was walking far behind. He was not smiling. "Ben, why are you sad?" asked Rosa. "I wanted to hold the balloon too," said Ben. "Just a little." Rosa looked at her big blue balloon. She loved it. But she loved her brother more. Rosa thought for a little while. The fair was full of fun things. But Ben looked so sad. "Okay," said Rosa. "You can hold it. But we can hold it together." Rosa put her hand on the string. Ben put his hand next to hers. They held the balloon together. The balloon went up and down in the wind. Ben laughed. "It is so pretty!" he said. Rosa laughed too. "It is more pretty when we share it," she said. They walked around the fair together. They shared the balloon all day long. Sometimes Rosa held it. Sometimes Ben held it. Sometimes they held it together. At the end of the day, Rosa said, "Sharing my balloon was the best part of the fair." Ben smiled. "Can we share again tomorrow?" he asked. "Yes," said Rosa. "We can share everything." From that day on, Rosa and Ben shared their toys, their snacks, and their time. And every day felt a little bigger and a little brighter.

Felix the fox lived in a small den in the woods. One cold day, he made a big pot of hot carrot soup. It smelled so good. The steam went up in little curls. Felix sat down to eat. But then he heard a knock at the door. Knock, knock, knock. "Who is there?" asked Felix. "It is me, Molly the mouse," said a small voice. "I am so cold and so hungry. Do you have any food?" Felix looked at his big pot of soup. There was a lot of soup. "Come in," he said. "I have hot soup." Molly the mouse came in and ate a bowl of soup. "Thank you," she said. "This is the best soup I ever had." Soon there was another knock at the door. Knock, knock, knock. "Who is there?" asked Felix. "It is me, Bruno the bear," said a big voice. "I am cold and hungry too." Felix looked at his pot. There was still a lot of soup. "Come in," he said. "I have hot soup." Bruno the bear came in and ate a bowl of soup. "Thank you," he said. "You are very kind." More and more friends came to the door. Ollie the owl came. Pip the squirrel came. Every one of them was cold and hungry. And every one of them got a warm bowl of soup. At last, the pot was almost empty. But Felix felt warm and full and happy. "Thank you all for coming," said Felix. "My pot is almost empty, but my heart is full." "Your soup was so good," said Molly. "How can we thank you?" "You do not need to thank me," said Felix. "Kindness fills more than one bowl. When we share, we all feel full." The friends smiled. They all sat by the fire, warm and happy, long after the soup was gone.

Nina woke up and ran to the window. She wanted to ride her bike and play in the park. But the sky was gray. Rain was falling all over the ground. "Oh no," said Nina. "It is raining again. Now I cannot play." She sat by the window and watched the rain. Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop. The rain hit the roof. It hit the leaves. It hit the little puddles on the path. The rain made little rivers on the glass. Nina watched them slide down, down, down. Her grandpa came and sat next to her. "Why do you look so sad?" he asked. "I wanted to play outside," said Nina. "But the rain is in the way." "Listen," said Grandpa. "The rain is not in the way. The rain is singing a song." Nina listened. Drip, drop, drip, drop. Ping, ping. Plip, plop. The rain made soft music on the roof and the leaves and the ground. "It does sound like a song," said Nina. She smiled a little. "The rain helps the flowers grow," said Grandpa. "It fills the rivers and makes the grass green. Without the rain, the world would be dry and quiet." Nina looked at the garden. The flowers were wet and bright. The leaves looked clean and new. "The rain is helping them," said Nina. "They look so happy in the rain." Grandpa nodded and smiled. "I think I will listen to the rain song all day," said Nina. So Nina and her grandpa sat by the window. They drank warm milk. They listened to the rain sing its soft song. And when the sun came out, the whole world looked fresh and green and new. "Thank you, rain," said Nina. "You made the day good after all." Grandpa smiled. "There is something good in every day," he said. "You just have to listen for it."

Benny had a blue toy truck. He loved it more than anything. He pushed it up little hills. He filled it with pebbles. He parked it by his bed every night. One day, his friend Leo came to play. "Can I play with your truck?" asked Leo. "Okay," said Benny. "But be careful. It is my favorite toy." Leo pushed the truck fast. It hit a rock and flipped over. Crack! One wheel broke off and rolled away. Benny's eyes went wide. "You broke my truck!" he shouted. "I told you to be careful!" "I am sorry," said Leo. "I did not mean to break it." He looked like he might cry. "Go home!" said Benny. "I do not want to play with you anymore." Leo walked home with his head down. Benny sat alone with his broken truck. He felt mad. Then he felt sad. He looked at the broken wheel and thought about Leo. He missed his friend already. The room felt too quiet without Leo. The next day, Benny heard a knock at the door. It was Leo. He held a small tube of glue. "I am really sorry," said Leo. "I brought glue. Can we fix your truck together?" Benny looked at Leo. He remembered all the fun they had. "Yes," he said. "Let us fix it." The two boys sat on the floor. Leo put a drop of glue on the wheel. Benny held the truck steady. Together, they fixed the wheel. Soon the truck was as good as new. "Thank you for helping," said Benny. "I am sorry I yelled at you." "It is okay," said Leo. "A friend is worth more than a broken toy." Benny smiled. "You are right," he said. "Want to play trucks with me?" "Yes!" said Leo. And they played all afternoon, side by side.

Ollie the owl lived in a tall tree. All owls sleep in the day and stay awake at night. But Ollie wanted to be different. He wanted to play with his day friends, the rabbit and the squirrel. One morning, Ollie tried to play with them. "Come play tag with us!" said the rabbit. "Okay," said Ollie. But his eyes kept closing. He was so tired. He bumped into a tree and fell asleep in the grass. "Wake up, Ollie!" said the squirrel. "You keep falling asleep!" Ollie woke up and felt sad. His eyes felt heavy, but his heart felt heavier. "I am awake all night," he said. "But you are all asleep at night. So we can never play together." The rabbit and the squirrel looked at each other. They felt sad too. They did not want Ollie to feel left out. Then the rabbit had an idea. "You are awake at sunset, right?" she asked. "Yes," said Ollie. "I wake up when the sun goes down." "And we are still awake at sunset," said the squirrel. "So let us all play at sunset!" Ollie's eyes went wide and bright. "That is a great idea!" he said. So that evening, when the sky turned pink and gold, they all met by the big tree. Ollie was wide awake. The rabbit and the squirrel were still full of energy. They played tag. They played hide and seek. They laughed until the stars came out. "This is the best time of day," said Ollie. "We should do this every day," said the rabbit. And so they did. Every day, at sunset, the three friends met to play. It became their special time. And Ollie never felt left out again. "Good friends find a way to be together," said Ollie. And they all agreed.

Pip was a tiny gray mouse. He lived in a small hole behind a farm. But one day, a big storm washed his hole away. Pip had no home. "I have to find a new home," said Pip. "But the world is so big, and I am so small." Pip packed a tiny bag with one piece of cheese. Then he set off. He walked through tall grass that was like a green forest. Soon Pip came to a wide road. Big cars went zoom, zoom, zoom. Pip was scared. "I can do this," he said in a small voice. "I have to be brave." He waited and watched. When the road was quiet, he ran as fast as his tiny legs could go. He made it to the other side. "Phew!" said Pip. "I did it." Then Pip saw a big cat. The cat had long whiskers and green eyes. Pip's heart went thump, thump, thump. "Please do not eat me," said Pip. "I am just looking for a home." The cat looked at Pip. "I am a nice cat," said the cat. "I will not eat you. But why are you all alone?" "I lost my home in the storm," said Pip. "Come with me," said the cat. "I know a warm barn with lots of hay. You can live there." Pip was scared to follow a cat. But he was brave. He followed the cat to a big red barn. Inside, it was warm and dry. There was soft hay and a bowl of milk. "This is a good home," said Pip. "Thank you, cat." "You are welcome," said the cat. "You are the bravest mouse I ever met." Pip made a new bed in the hay. That night, he slept warm and safe. Even the smallest heart can be brave, he thought. And Pip smiled in his sleep.

Noor got a tiny seed from her grandma. It was small and brown and did not look like much. "Plant it in the ground," said Grandma. "Give it water and sun and love. Then wait." Noor dug a little hole in the garden. She made it just the right size, not too big and not too small. She put the seed in. She covered it with soft dirt. Then she watered it with her small blue cup. "Now what?" asked Noor. "Now we wait," said Grandma. Noor waited one day. Nothing came up. She waited two days. Still nothing. She waited a whole week. The ground was still flat and brown. "It will never grow," said her friend Sami. "Give up." But Noor did not give up. Every morning, she watered the soil. Every day, she talked to the seed. "Grow, little seed," she said. "I am waiting for you." Two weeks went by. Still nothing. Noor felt sad, but she kept hoping. She even sang a little song to the seed. "Grow, grow, little seed," she sang. Then one morning, Noor went outside and saw something green. A tiny sprout was pushing up through the dirt. "Grandma! Come look!" shouted Noor. "It grew! My seed grew!" Grandma came and smiled. "You waited and you hoped," she said. "Good things come to those who wait and hope." The sprout grew a little more every day. Soon it had green leaves. Then it had a bud. The bud was small and tight. Then one day, a big bright yellow flower opened up. "It is the most pretty flower I ever saw," said Noor. "Because you waited for it," said Grandma. Noor looked at her flower and felt proud. She ran to tell Sami the good news. She knew that good things really do come to those who wait and hope.

Every night, Luna looked out her window at the moon. She loved how it glowed soft and silver. She said good night to it before bed. But one night, the moon was not there. Big gray clouds covered the sky. Luna looked and looked. She could not see even one little star. "Oh no," said Luna. "The moon is missing. How will I say good night?" Her mom came in and sat on the bed. "The moon is just hiding behind the clouds," said Mom. "It is still up there." "But I cannot see it," said Luna. "I am sad without it." "Then let us make our own moon," said Mom. Luna's eyes lit up. "We can do that?" she asked. "Yes," said Mom. "Use your imagination." Luna got paper and a yellow crayon. She drew a big round moon. She made it as round as a plate. She drew little craters on it. She drew stars all around it. She drew little stars and one big star. "It needs to glow," said Luna. She used a white crayon to add a soft shine. Then she cut out the moon and hung it on her wall. She stood back to look at it. It was not as bright as the real moon, but it was hers. "Now I have my own moon," said Luna. "It will never hide from me." Luna got into bed and looked at her paper moon. She felt warm and happy. It glowed in the soft light of her lamp. She smiled. "Good night, paper moon," she said. "Good night, real moon, wherever you are." Mom kissed her good night. "See," said Mom. "Your imagination can light up any night." Luna closed her eyes and dreamed of moons. And even though the sky was gray, her room was full of light.

Bobby the bear loved honey. He loved it more than berries, more than fish, more than anything. And he wanted it right now. One day, Bobby saw a beehive high in a tree. "I want that honey now!" he said. He knocked on the tree. Buzz, buzz, buzz! The bees flew out, very angry. "Go away, Bobby!" said a little bee. "The honey is not ready yet." "But I want it now!" said Bobby. He knocked again. The bees buzzed louder and chased him away. Bobby sat under a tree and rubbed his nose. A little red spot was on his nose where a bee had stung him. "Why can I not have honey now?" he asked. The little bee flew down and sat on a leaf. "The honey takes time," said the bee. "We bees work all day to make it. It is sweet only when it is ready. If you wait, you will have the best honey." "But waiting is hard," said Bobby. "I know," said the bee. "But good things come to those who wait." Bobby thought about it. He did not want to get stung again. So he decided to wait. Every day, Bobby walked by the tree. He looked at the hive but did not knock. He waited one day. He waited two days. He waited a whole week. Then one sunny morning, the little bee flew to Bobby. "The honey is ready now," said the bee. "You waited well. Come and taste it." Bobby climbed the tree, very slowly and very gently. He took a little honey. It was the sweetest honey he had ever tasted. "This is the best honey in the world!" said Bobby. "Because you waited for it," said the bee. Bobby smiled. From that day on, he was happy to wait for the things he loved.

Sammy had a jar on his shelf. Every day, he put a coin in the jar. Clink. Clink. Clink. He was saving for a toy robot. All year long, Sammy saved his coins. He did not buy candy. He did not buy stickers. He just saved and saved for the shiny red robot. At last, the jar was full. Sammy was so happy. "Tomorrow I will buy my robot!" he said. The next day, Sammy walked to the toy store. On the way, he saw his friend Maria and her little sister, Lina. Lina was shivering. She had no warm coat. "Lina is cold," said Maria. "Her old coat got a big hole. We have no money for a new one." Sammy looked at Lina. She was small and cold. Her little hands were pink from the cold. Then he looked at the toy store. Then he looked back at Lina. Sammy walked past the toy store. He went into the coat shop. He bought a small pink coat with his jar of coins. The shop lady wrapped it in soft paper. He ran back to Maria and Lina. "Here," he said. "This is for you, Lina." Lina put on the coat. It was warm and soft. She smiled a big smile. "Thank you, Sammy!" she said. Sammy felt warm all over, even without a new toy. He felt warm inside his heart. "You are welcome," he said. That night, Sammy put his empty jar back on the shelf. He did not feel sad. He felt happy. "Why are you smiling?" asked his mom. "Did you get your robot?" "No," said Sammy. "I got something better. I got to help a friend. Giving feels better than getting." His mom hugged him tight. "You did a kind thing," she said. And Sammy knew it was true.

Cory was a small gray cloud. He lived high in the sky with the other clouds. He felt sad a lot. And when he felt sad, he cried. Sometimes he did not even know why he was sad. His tears fell down as rain. "You cry too much," said a big white cloud. "Stop being a crybaby." But Cory could not stop. The more the other clouds laughed at him, the more it rained. Down below, in a little garden, a girl named Zoe looked up at the sky. She saw the rain and smiled. "Thank you, little cloud!" Zoe called up. "Your rain makes my flowers grow!" Cory stopped crying for a moment. "Did someone thank me?" he asked. "Yes," said a gentle wind. "The girl below is happy for your rain." Cory looked down. He saw Zoe's garden. It was full of green leaves and bright flowers. They were all drinking his rain. "You see?" said the wind. "Your tears are not a bad thing. They help things grow. Everyone's feelings matter, even the sad ones." Cory felt a little better. His gray color turned a little lighter. He let out a soft, light rain. It was not a sad cry anymore. It was a happy rain. Zoe danced in the garden. She twirled in her red boots. "Look, Mama!" she said. "The cloud is singing with rain!" The big white clouds watched. They looked at each other with soft faces. "Maybe Cory's rain is a gift," said one. "We should not have laughed." From that day on, the other clouds were kind to Cory. They did not call him names anymore. And when Cory felt sad, he knew it was okay. His feelings mattered. And his rain helped the whole world grow. And that made Cory feel proud and happy.

A long line of ants was marching to a picnic. They smelled sweet crumbs far away. But between them and the food was a wide puddle of water. "We cannot cross this," said one ant. "It is too wide and too deep." "I can jump," said a strong ant. He tried to jump. Splash! He fell into the water and had to climb out, all wet. "I can swim," said another ant. But the water was too cold, and he turned back. The ants sat at the edge of the puddle. They felt sad and hungry. Their tummies made little sounds. "One ant cannot cross," said an old ant. "But what about all of us together?" "What do you mean?" asked the others. "If we all work as a team, we can build a bridge," said the old ant. "We can put leaves and sticks across the water." The ants looked at each other. Then they all got to work. Some ants carried little sticks. Some ants carried green leaves. They worked side by side. They did not stop. Some ants were big. Some ants were small. All of them helped. They laid the sticks across the puddle. They put the leaves on top. The leaves made the bridge smooth and strong. The bridge grew longer and longer. Soon, it reached all the way across the water. "We did it!" the ants cheered. "We built a bridge!" One by one, the ants marched across the bridge. Their little feet were dry and safe. On the other side, they found the sweet crumbs. "This is the best meal ever," said one ant. "And we found it together," said the old ant. "Together we can do what we cannot do alone." The ants ate and ate. And from that day on, whenever a job seemed too big, they all did it together.