The Pen Pals

Rhea Pechter (0:09)

This is Ria. Welcome to Little Stories for Tiny People. Don't you just love getting a real letter in the mail? It's so rare these days. It's rare even to get a real email. Nope, not answering that. We haven't a moment to spare. Our story features old-fashioned letter writing. It's called The Pen Pals. Take it away, Cielo and Lucy. Remember, there are no pictures. You have to imagine the pictures in your mind. You can imagine them however you want. Okay, here we go.

It was a blissful summer day when Daisy ambled home from her brother's house. The sun was a golden gem in the sky.

The leafy canopy swayed in the breeze, sending shafts of light scattering in patchwork patterns across the ground. An adorable chipmunk sat on a log, nibbling a nut. Daisy hopped over the log without noticing the chipmunk. She'd hardly noticed her surroundings at all since leaving her brother's house. Oh, why did I agree to it? The morning had started well enough. Daisy had flown from her cottage to forests over, where her brother and his wife lived with their 11 goslings. The goslings loved their aunt Daisy. Can you tell us the story of the time you collected berries at the river? You want to hear that one again? Yes, please. We love that story. Oh, all right. So, there I was, collecting boysenberries, when all of a sudden, I spied an enormous... Wolf!

Were you scared? Did your eyes bug out of your head? Of course I was scared. After all, wolves are not our friends. It was hard for her to resist the goslings when they asked for something. Auntie, won't you read us one more book? She had a hard time turning them down. All right, one more. Yay! Oh yay! Thank you, Auntie. But this time, she really should have said no. The family had been clearing their picnic outside the cottage when the topic of the goslings' first birthday had come up. Auntie, we're having a party in the fall for our birthday. You'll be there, won't you? I wouldn't miss it. Then the littlest gosling, Dominic, looked up at her with those big eyes of his and said, And you'll bring an apple pie with apples from your trees. The other goslings surrounded her. Yes, Auntie, bring us an apple pie for our party, will you? Will you? Will you? Will you? Will you? An apple pie?

Don't you want a cake for your birthday? We want apple pie. Please, Auntie, please. Apple pie. Apple pie. Apple pie.

They were all so cute and so insistent. And somehow, without meaning to, Daisy resorted to the answer that came most readily when she was with her nieces and nephews.

Yes. Yes, I will.

Should have said no, Daisy muttered an hour later as she walked home. She could have flown, but sometimes, walking helped her think through things. How am I ever going to manage to get a pie out of those trees? Daisy had planted the apple trees several years back, with cuttings from a traveling sales squirrel who'd really talked them up. These are guaranteed sweet apple tree grafts, perfect for your personal garden. Just plant them in the ground and in three short years enjoy perfectly sweet yet slightly tart, homegrown apples. You'll have so many apples, you'll be begging rabbits to take them off your weeds. At the time, Daisy had needed a new hobby. She'd told everyone she knew about her apple trees. You just wait. I'm going to make you so many apple pies, you'll demand I stop bringing them over. Only the trees had struggled. It turned out she did not have much of a green wing after all. Me and my big mouth. She muttered as she went along the trail that curved around a small pond. Daisy, is that you?

Daisy turned to see a small brown turtle perched on the end of a log, the other end of which was submerged in the murky water.

Lenny, it's been forever. I thought that was you. The goose and the turtle caught up on life since their last meeting. I've slowed down a bit. Mostly stay on my log. That's understandable. How are those apple trees of yours? Daisy hesitated, but it was fresh on her mind, and she had to tell someone. She told Lenny about her dilemma. And now, I don't know why, but I promised to bring an apple pie for my niece's and nephew's birthday made with apples from my garden. I see.

Do you happen to know anything about apple trees? Lenny glanced around at the log, the pond. I've never even eaten an apple, Daisy. But there are some beautiful apple trees in a nearby garden. You should see if you can talk to the gardener. Where can I find it? Just hang a left at that tall oak up ahead. You'll run into a magnificent place with flowers and vegetables and lots of apple trees. Who owns it?