Imagine a book with a big wall in the middle. One side of the wall is safe, and the other side has an ogre! The ogre might look scary, but guess what? He’s actually nice! Sometimes, things that seem scary can turn out to be friendly.
There were big trucks working hard to build a city. One of them, named Digger, found a tiny flower. Digger loved the flower and took care of it every day. Even when the city grew, Digger made sure the flower’s seeds were safe and planted them in a new place. This shows how caring for small things can make a big difference.
Zayn loved adventures with his dad. One day, he learned about “free fun,” which is fun you can have without spending money. Zayn discovered that free fun is everywhere, like playing at the beach or watching the waves. It’s all about enjoying the little things around us.
Leo was very busy and wished there were more of him to do all the work. But when there were too many Leos, it got even busier! Leo realized that doing less but doing his best was the way to go. Sometimes, it’s important to take a break and dream.
In the snowy woods, there’s a hidden world under the snow where animals stay warm. As you glide over the snow, you might see tracks of animals like deer and foxes. It’s amazing to think about the secret life happening beneath your feet!
In the garden, there’s a lot happening both above and below the ground. While you plant seeds and watch them grow, insects and worms are busy working in the dirt. Gardens are full of life, and every part plays an important role.
A boy found a special stick that sparked his imagination. With the stick, he could be anything he wanted, like a pirate or a knight. As he grew up, the stick reminded him to keep dreaming and imagining. He passed it on to a little girl, who discovered its magic too.
One day, the internet stopped working, and everyone panicked. But a clever child reminded them of the big world outside. They explored nature and had fun without screens. Sometimes, it’s nice to take a break from technology and enjoy the world around us.
Leaves are amazing! In autumn, they change colors and fall to the ground, creating homes for animals. As leaves rustle, animals like chipmunks and squirrels gather food for winter. Leaves help plants make food and provide shelter for many creatures.
These stories teach us about kindness, imagination, and the wonders of nature. Remember, there’s magic in the world if you take the time to look for it!
Sure! Here’s a sanitized version of the provided transcript, removing any unnecessary repetitions, filler sounds, and maintaining clarity:
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**[Music]**
There’s a wall in the middle of the book, and it’s a good thing. The wall protects this side of the book from the other side. This side of the book is safe; the other side is not. The most dangerous thing on the other side of the book is the ogre. If the ogre ever caught me, he’d eat me up.
That’s why I’m glad there’s a wall in the middle of the book and that I’m on this side of it. Huh? Wait a second, what’s going on? This is not supposed to happen on this side of the wall. Wow, thank you so much! Oh no, I’m on the other side of the book, and you’re the ogre who’s going to eat me!
I’m actually a nice ogre, and this side of the book is fantastic! Come on, I’ll show you around.
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**The Digger and the Flower by Joseph Kefer**
It was morning, and the big trucks were ready to work. “Let’s hoist,” said Crane. “Let’s push,” said Dozer. “Let’s dig,” said Digger. Together, they built tall buildings, roads for driving, and bridges for crossing. They built and built until the loud whistle blew.
“I’m beat,” said Crane. “Me too,” said Dozer. The other big trucks took a break, but Digger did not. He had found something in the rubble. “Hello there,” he said. The flower was tiny, but it was beautiful. Every day, while the other big trucks built, Digger visited the flower. He watered it when its leaves looked dry, shielded it on windy days, and sang it a bedtime song.
The flower grew, but the city grew too. Soon every space had been filled, except one. “We need to put a building here,” said Crane. Dozer started his engine before Digger could stop him. Dozer blew a big puff of smoke and cut the flower down. Then the other big trucks went back to work, but Digger didn’t.
When the smoke cleared, Digger saw something in the rubble: little seeds. He scooped them up and drove past the tall buildings to a place no big truck had ever been. There, Digger stopped, ducked, and tucked the seeds into the warm earth. Every day, Digger cared for the seeds, watered them, shielded them, and sang them a bedtime song.
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**Finding Free Fun by Yogi Roth**
Zayn loved going on adventures with his dad. After a particularly great day, Zayn wondered, “Dad, what made today so perfect?” His dad smiled and asked, “Well, what did we do?”
“We played at the beach,” Zayn guessed. “That’s true, but we also had free fun,” his dad replied. “Free fun? What’s that?” Zayn asked. “It’s a magical thing, but you’ll have to find it on your own.”
The next morning, Zayn jumped out of bed, determined to find free fun. He searched his whole house and couldn’t find it anywhere. “It must be outside!” he thought. Zayn rode his bike all over town, looking everywhere.
Finally, he remembered something his dad once told him: “Every answer in life can be found while looking at the waves.” Of course! Free fun was at the ocean! He raced to the beach with his dad.
They paddled away from shore, and Zayn spotted the perfect wave. “That must be it!” he shouted. Zayn’s dad pushed him forward just as the wave began to crest. Zayn stood up, but his excitement turned to fear as he felt the power of the ocean. He panicked and fell backwards under the crashing waves.
But underwater, it was calm. Zayn opened his eyes and saw seahorses, schools of fish, and a sea turtle. It felt like time was moving in slow motion. Zayn floated peacefully, taking in the moment. He burst to the surface and exclaimed, “I found it, Dad! I found free fun!”
“That’s awesome, buddy! Where was it?” his dad asked. Zayn sang out, “Free fun isn’t in one place; it’s everywhere! You just have to slow down to see it.”
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**So Few of Me by Peter H. Reynolds**
Leo was a busy lad. No matter how hard he worked, there was always more to do. Maybe making a list would help. Leo’s list of things to do grew and grew. “So few of me and so much to do! If only there were two of me!”
Just then, there was a knock on the door. Leo opened it and blinked. It was another him! The new Leo grabbed the list and said, “Two of us will get it done.” He was helpful but found even more to do. A third Leo joined them.
“How about four? Four makes a fantastic team!” But maybe a fifth would be even better. Still not enough! A sixth came in to help organize the lot. After meeting for hours, they decided they needed a seventh. With seven Leos, there was seven times as much work.
Leo sighed and said, “We’ll need eight just to catch our breath.” The eight Leos worked furiously. “Maybe nine Leos would get it done!” But no time to stop, no time to rest!
Leo himself was exhausted. He slipped away to take a nap. When he awoke, nine other Leos were staring at him. “What were you doing?” they demanded. “I was dreaming,” Leo said softly.
“Dreaming was not on the list!” they roared. Leo smiled, still savoring his dream. The Leos disappeared one by one. Leo wondered, “What if I did less but did my best?” Then one Leo is all I need—just me, just one, with time to dream.
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**Over and Under the Snow**
Over the snow, I glide into woods frosted fresh and white. A flash of fur—a red squirrel disappears down a crack. Where did he go? Under the snow, Dad says, is a whole secret kingdom where the smallest forest animals stay safe and warm.
You’re skiing over them now. Over the snow, I glide past beech trees rattling leftover leaves and strong silent pines that stretch to the sky. On a high branch, a great horned owl keeps watch.
Under the snow, a tiny shrew dodges columns of ice. It follows a cool tunnel out of sight. “Look, Dad!” says tracks. Tracks always tell a story. Over the snow, a deer has crossed our path. Deep hoofprints punch through the crust.
Up the hill, under a tree, an oval of melted snow tells the story of a good night’s sleep. Under the snow, deer mice doze, huddled up against the cold in a nest of feathers and fur.
Over the snow, I climb, digging in my edges so I don’t slide back down. Under the snow, a snowshoe hare watches from a shelter of spruce, almost invisible. She smooths her fur, a coat of winter white.
Over the snow, I glide past reeds where tadpoles play tag in springtime. Under the snow, fat bullfrogs snooze, dreaming of sun-warmed days back when they had tails.
Over the snow, I stand and stare—little mountains in the marsh. Under the snow, beavers gnaw on aspen bark, settled in for supper. Can they hear my tummy rumbling too?
Over the snow, stop! We stand like statues carved in ice till a bushy-tailed fox steps from a thicket, tips his ear to the ground, listens, listens, listens, still and leaps out onto the snow after an invisible dinner.
His paws scratch away to find the mouse he heard scratching along underneath. Over the snow, I glide; a full moon lights my path to supper. Under the snow, a chipmunk waits for a meal.
Over the snow, I climb one last hill. Bonfire smoke rises, warm hands, hot cocoa, hot dogs sizzling on pointed sticks. Under the snow, a black bear snores, still full of October blueberries and trout.
Over the snow, the fire crackles, and sparks shoot up to the stars. I lick sticky marshmallow from my lips and lean back with heavy eyes. Shadows dance in the flames.
Under the snow, a queen bumblebee drowses away December all alone. She’ll rule a new colony in spring. Over the snow, I glide home on tired legs. Clouds whisper down feathery soft flakes.
Under the covers, I snuggle deep and drift into dreams of cuddling deer mice, slumbering frogs, hungry beavers, tunneling voles, drowsy bears, and fizzy squirrels in the secret kingdom under the snow.
—
**Up in the Garden and Down in the Dirt**
Up in the garden, I stand and plan, my hands full of seeds and my head full of dreams. Spring sun shines down to melt the sleepy snow. Wind whistles through last year’s plants, and mud sucks at my rain boots.
It’s not quite time, Nana says. Down in the dirt, things need to dry out and warm up. “What’s down there?” I ask. Down in the dirt is a whole busy world of earthworms and insects digging and building and stirring up soil. They’re already working down in the dirt.
Up in the garden, we snap riddle stalks, scoop rusty armfuls, and wheel away weeds for the chickens while they squabble and scratch. We spread compost over the soil.
Down in the dirt, pill bugs chew through last year’s leaves. I give a gentle poke; they roll up tight and hide in plated suits of armor.
Up in the garden, it’s time to plant. I trail a furrow with my finger and sprinkle seeds in a careful row. Give them a drink, Nana says. We pat them down to snuggle in the dark.
Down in the dirt, a tomato hornworm rests, waiting for wings and the leaves where she’ll lay her eggs. Up in the garden, carrot plants sprout, pea blossoms bloom, wasps are on the prowl, and honeybees visit, legs loaded with pollen.
I weed and wilt in the sun so strong, even I look for shade. Down in the dirt, earthworms tunnel deep. I’m jealous of their cool, damp dark.
Up in the garden, a rain shower—Nana turns the hose on me. I hide behind the cucumber vines, but their leaves can’t save me. I shiver and laugh, drenched in Nana’s rain.
Down in the dirt, water soaks deep. Roots drink it in, and a long-legged spider stilt walks over the streams.
Up in the garden, there’s so much to eat. Ladybugs feast on aphids. Nana crunches green beans. I bite a ripe tomato, warm from the sun; juice dribbles down my chin.
Down in the dirt, a robin’s beak finds a cricket, a beetle, a grub. Slugs are scrumptious too.
Up in the garden, we pick cukes and zucchini, harvesting into the dark. Bats swoop through the sunflowers, and I pluck June bugs from the basil until it’s time for bed.
Down in the dirt, skunks work the night shift. They snuffle and dig and gobble cutworms while I sleep.
Up in the garden, a praying mantis wakes to hunt mosquitoes. Nana sprays away the aphids, and I’m after grasshoppers, ready to swoosh, but someone else is faster.
Down in the dirt, a smooth, shining garter snake crunches on supper.
Up in the garden, the wind grows cool. Pumpkins blush orange, and sunflowers bow to September. Nana ties them together to build a house for reading.
Down in the dirt, an orb weaver spins her web, strand by silken strand. She’ll munch on moths tonight.
Up in the garden, colored leaves litter the squash vines, and we know the cold is coming. Hurry, hurry, and harvest! There’s enough for the neighbors too.
Down in the dirt, frantic ants gather what we leave behind. They’re storing food for cooler days ahead.
Up in the garden, frost draws lace on leftover leaves where secret sacks hang, waiting for the warm to return.
We say goodbye and spread the winter blankets.
Down in the dirt, beetles burrow and scurry home. Earthworms curl tight in the dark when Grandpa calls us in for soup.
An autumn moon is rising. Up in the garden, dry corn stalks tremble, and the wind smells like winter. But the long, ripe days of summer still rest in the garden beds.
The ladybugs and bumblebees, earthworms and ants are hunkered down, hiding, biding their time, dreaming of sunshine and blossoms and sprouts under the bare arms of trees and the blanketing snow.
A whole new garden sleeps down in the dirt.
—
**The Stick**
Once there was a boy who had no toys to play with. The other children in the neighborhood had lots of toys. Every afternoon, the boy would go to the park, sit under a big tree, and watch the other children play. Sometimes they let the boy play with their toys, sometimes not. This made the boy sad.
One day, as the boy was sitting under the big tree in the park, he noticed a stick leaning against it. He had never seen such an unusual stick. He picked it up. Suddenly, he was a pirate, then a baseball player at bat, and then a knight on a steed.
The boy noticed that there were words carved into the stick. He sang them like a song: “Imagination lives in you; it’s the fire in all you do. Use it well, and you can be anything you want to be.”
The boy carried the stick everywhere. He was anything he wanted to be. At the beach, he was a fisherman. At the lake, he paddled a canoe. He was a hiker in the highlands, and his imagination grew.
Time passed, and the boy grew up. With the stick’s inspiration, he became everything he wanted to be. He took business trips and airplane rides. He sailed the seas on rising tides. He gave of his time, wealth, heart, and himself.
He built a house high on a hill overlooking the valley where he had grown up. In the distance, he could see the park and the old tree where he used to sit. As the years passed, the boy became an old man.
Each day, he took his stick with him to the park and sat on a bench near the tree where he had found it so long ago. He would sit for hours and watch the children play. All of the children seemed to have lots of toys to play with, except for one little girl.
The little girl always sat under the old tree and watched the other children play with their toys. This made the old man sad.
Early one morning, the old man walked to the park. Instead of sitting on the bench, he went over to the tree. He leaned the stick against its trunk, walked to his bench, and waited. Soon the children arrived at the park with their toys.
He waited to see if the little girl would show. He saw her walk slowly toward the tree. She peered down at the unusual stick leaning against its trunk. She picked it up, and suddenly she was a princess, a fencer, then a surfer riding a wave.
She noticed the words carved into the stick and, as she danced away, she sang them like a song: “Imagination lives in you; it’s the fire in all you do. Use it well, and you can be anything you want to be.”
And the old man smiled and walked home.
—
**The Manic Panic**
This is what your household looks like on most days. This is what it will look like the day the internet stops working.
“What’s wrong with the Wi-Fi?” Mommy will howl. “It’s down,” Daddy will bellow. “Good riddance!” Nana will say. It will be kind of funny, I tell you. You, on the other hand, will be brimming with ideas and plans for things to do, which will be of no use, but they will whine.
This is when you will lose it. You will flare your nostrils, fling your hair, and say, “Mommy, Daddy, behave! It is not the end of the world! The internet wasn’t even around when you were my age!”
Their eyes will not blink for a million gazillion seconds. But that was then. They will finally whimper. Clearly, you will have to take charge.
“Do you see the big wide world out there waiting to be explored?” you will ask. You will dig in your heels, flex your muscles, and stand firm. They will grumble and fret and protest, but you will knit your brows, roll your eyes, and not give in because you know what’s good for them.
What fun it will be! One last time, please, they will plead as you make your way back home. The Wi-Fi will still be down, but now they will have other things to think about, like the clouds and the breeze and the trees.
“What a perfect day!” you will sigh and go to your room, tired and happy. Then you will turn on your computer and freeze. “Ah! My book report!” you’ll scream into the quiet night. “Why is the Wi-Fi still down?” you will demand from no one in particular.
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**Leaves: An Autumn Pop-Up Book**
A leaf seems simple, but leaves do many things. A leaf contains green chlorophyll that helps it use sunlight, water, and air to make food for the plant. As days shorten, autumn’s brilliance flutters down. With less daylight, chlorophyll disappears from leaves, and bright colors show.
As leaves drop, some birds migrate to warmer places. Hungry critters hide under the layers. The hedgehog curls up in a prickly ball to sleep, its spines sticking out for protection. Wet, matted leaves are homes for frogs, insects, snails, and slugs.
Leaves rustle as animals hustle for food. Chipmunks scurry among leaves and stuff their chubby cheeks with seeds. Squirrels bury acorns and nuts under leaves to store for winter feeding. Mushrooms pop up on the forest floor, often growing in damp, leaf-covered locations.
Deer eat mushrooms, including some kinds that are poisonous to humans. Leaf-lined burrows are cozy for dozing in autumn. Some animals, such as bears, skunks
