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Now on to the show.
This is Ria.
Welcome to Little Stories for Tiny People.
Our story today is a sweet, sleepy tale featuring Little Bear and his grandpa from.
Little Bear Goes Over the Hill.
This time, they go on an adventure to see the stars.
Let's hear it.
It's called Little Bear Sees the Stars.
Take it away, Ren.
Remember, there are no pictures.
You'll have to imagine the pictures in your mind.
You can imagine them however you want.
Okay, here we go.
It all began on a gorgeous, vivid day in late summer.
Little Bear was napping in his den in the middle of a dream about blueberry tarts.
The blueberry tarts had legs, for some reason, and were dancing all in a line, kicking up their inexplicable legs in unison.
At first they were just dancing, But then they began to sing.
The blueberry tarts' voices grew deeper and deeper until they did not sound at all like blueberry tarts should sound.
In fact They sounded a lot more like Grandpa Bear, lifted Little Bear clear out of bed and shook him awake.
Little Bear, wake up, Little Bear.
Grandpa?
Get up, lazybones.
There are adventures to be had, thrills to chase, berries to eat, rivers to cross.
Grandpa had dropped Little Bear and was shuffling around the den, gesticulating with his paws.
Little Bear closed his eyes against the sunlight.
Some days were made for napping.
This was one of them.
Grandpa would take the hint, but he did not take the hint.
Grandpa was caught up in his own musings about the possibilities for the day.
And what about rafting?
We could raft.
I've been known to raft.
When he turned to see Little Bear back in bed, a tight coil of dark brown fur.
Grandpa strode to the bed and in one swoop plucked up his grandson, heaved him over his shoulder and bounded out of the den.
Hey, Little Bear squealed from Grandpa's shoulder.
Grandpa, you are cub-napping me.
I am doing no such thing.
Your mother's gone out.
I'm in charge today, Grandpa said proudly and set Little Bear on the forest floor where he blinked his eyes against the bright afternoon.
There has to be some kind of law against this.
Nap interruption is just wrong.
Ha ha, Grandpa guffawed, amused by his grandson's irritation.
Let's go.
We have a day to make.
The two bears ambled through the summer forest, breathing in the scent of wild flowers, of leafy green plants all around.
Some invisible little bit of pollen or weed drifted to Little Bear's nose.
Achoo!
See, Grandpa?
I'm allergic to adventure.
I should really be in bed.
Grandpa only smiled.
Little Bear might have sounded annoyed, but in truth, he was delighted.
He loved when Grandpa came to visit.
As they went, with no plan except to spend the day together, Little Bear peppered his grandfather with questions.
Grandpa, will I be as big as you?
Yes.
When, Grandpa?
What month?
How could I possibly know which month?
That's much too specific.
But I know it will be on a Tuesday, Grandpa said with a grin.
They reached the river where the water was cool and the fish plentiful.
They splashed around for a while, then caught some fish and sat eating on a large flat rock.
Grandpa?
Yes?
Why do you have those white whiskers around your chin?
Because I'm old.
Will I have those someday?
Yes.
Grandpa, tell me about what was different when you were my age.
Grandpa thought for a moment.
Then he sniffed the air and pulled Little Bear beneath his arm.
Shh, Little Bear, don't move.
People are coming.
Two men emerged from the trees on the other side of the river.
They had fishing poles slung over their backs.
Little Bear huddled close to Grandpa, but he wasn't afraid.
This had happened before.
Little Bear had learned that the people were even more afraid of bears than bears were of people.
But it made Grandpa uneasy, and he held Little Bear close.
The two bears watched as the men set up their fishing equipment, oblivious to their wild onlookers.
Then Little Bear started sniffing.
Little Bear, shh!
I, Grandpa, I feel another... No, no!
Achoo! sneeze coming on.
Oh, dear.
The small sneeze was enough.
The men looked up, suddenly aware that they were surrounded by life all around.
Ah, look at that.
Two of them.
Come on.
They could cross this river in a snap.
And with that, the men grabbed their things and dashed away along the river, around a bend.
The bears couldn't help but laugh.
Grandpa, why do they run so funny?
They don't even use their arms, Little Bear said, shaking his head.
Grandpa sniffed the air once more, then gave a sharp nod.
Come on, let's gather berries.
Grandpa, Little Bear said, as they ambled through the summer forest.
Why didn't they see us at first?
Do they have bad vision?
Awful, nothing like ours.
The two of them ate berries for an hour from their favorite patch in the waning light as the sun sank low in the sky beyond the trees.
He does much as you can, Little Bear.
Winter will be here before you know it.
In the middle of that lush forest, in the height of summer, It was difficult to imagine winter ever arriving.
Still, Little Bear filled up with berries.
Grandpa hunkered down nearby.
His mind kept going to the people, and every now and then he scanned the area to see if more had arrived.
Grandpa and Little Bear were in a wooded area that bordered a neighborhood with houses and street lamps and people riding bicycles.
It was a quiet neighborhood, but if you followed the road to its end, you came to a town.
It was easy for the bears to forget how close they were to the people, but in spring and summer hikers liked to explore the trails and rolling hills to take in the sights and perhaps get a photo of a real live bear.
After a long while of eating berries, the sun slipped beneath the trees and it turned from late, late in the day to the earliest part of night.
Little Bear looked up at the pink streaked sky.
Grandpa, look!
Look at that bright star!
That's a planet, Little Bear.
Wow.
But looking up at the sky, Grandpa thought back on Little Bear's question from earlier in the day, the one he'd never answered.
Little Bear Grandpa said, putting an arm around his grandson.
You asked me what things were like when I was a young bear.
Oh, yes.
Tell me, Grandpa.
Please tell me.
Come, sit.
Grandpa gestured to a fallen log covered in bright green moss.
The two of them sat there together and looked up at the sky.
There were more stars, little bear.
Are you sure?
Let me count.
One, two, three.
Three, Grandpa smiled as his grandson kept counting.
27, 28, 29.
There, that faint one.
I see 29 stars, Grandpa.
That's a lot.
Grandpa was silent for a moment.
When I was a cub, you could look up and see thousands of stars.
Little Bear cocked his head, skepticism written all over his furry little face.
Grandpa laughed.
It's true.
Where did they go, Grandpa?
See those lights there, Grandpa said, gesturing with a paw over the tree line.
Those lights are from the town.
The town?
Yes.
What do the lights have to do with the stars?
They make the stars more difficult to see.
How?
To see thousands of stars, Little Bear, you need darkness.
True darkness.
True darkness, Little Bear said, wondering what that might be like.
Grandpa Bear was quiet for a moment, thinking.
Then, he said, Little bear, I'm going to take you to see the stars.
Thousands of stars.
How?
Will we travel back in time?
Not quite.
We'll travel deep into the forest, where the town's lights don't reach.
Can we go now, Grandpa?
Soon.
Do you promise, Grandpa?
Little Bear looked up at his grandfather with big, trusting eyes.
I promise.
It was late.
Time to get back to the den.
Grandpa and Little Bear ambled home through the moonlit trees in the warm night air.
Little Bear spent the next few weeks eating.
His mother dragged him from his cozy bed each day to forage in the forest to fatten him up before the lean months.
Do we have to go again?
I'm tired of eating.
Not enough sleeping.
Come now, Little Bear.
Winter will be here before you know it.
Little Bear grudgingly agreed.
But all the while, as he plucked berries from the vines, rolled countless rocks in order to find insects hiding beneath, pulled roots from the ground and caught crayfish in the river.
He was thinking about the stars.
There is so much more to this story.
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And thank you as always for listening in.
