Chester Raccoon and the Acorn Full of Memories
Read Chester Raccoon and the Acorn Full of Memories Online
Authors: Audrey Penn
By Audrey Penn
Illustrated by Barbara L. Gibson
Tanglewood • Terre Haute, IN
Published by Tanglewood Publishing, Inc., August 2009.
Text © 2009 Audrey Penn
Illustrations © 2009 Barbara Leonard Gibson
All rights reserved. Neither this book nor any part may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, microfi lming, and recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
Design by Amy Alick Perich
Tanglewood Publishing, Inc.
P. O. Box 3009
Terre Haute, IN 47803
10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
ISBN 978-1-933718-29-3
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data applied for
For Thistle, Shadow, Lemur, Chloe, and Tary. You
were loyal and loving and our best friends. We will
love you and remember you in our hearts forever.
Your water bowls are always filled.
-AP
For Mom, Dad and Karen…
three acorns and many, many memories.
-BG
Chester Raccoon and the Acorn Full of Memories
C | hester Raccoon climbed into his tree hollow and frowned. “Skiddil Squirrel didn’t come to school today,” he told his mother. |
“Owl Teacher said he had an accident and wouldn’t be coming back. What’s an accident?”
“An accident is something that happens that isn’t supposed to happen,” explained Mrs. Raccoon. She lift ed Chester onto her lap and folded her warm, loving arms around him. “Did Owl Teacher say anything else about Skiddil Squirrel? Did she say he died?”
“I think so,” said Chester. “But I don’t know what that means either.”
Mrs. Raccoon thought for a moment. “Do you remember what happened to old Mr. Beaver?”
Chester nodded. “His heart quit beating and his body didn’t work any more.”
“That’s right,” Mrs. Raccoon told him. “Th at’s what happens when somebody dies.” She put a comforting arm around Chester’s shoulders. “Th at’s what happened when Skiddil Squirrel died.”
“Oh.” Now that Chester understood what happened to Skiddil Squirrel, his insides felt jumbled and he was very sad.
Mrs. Raccoon gently stroked the top of his head. “I’m very sorry about Skiddil Squirrel, Chester.”
Chester turned and faced his mother. “Skiddil Squirrel is my friend and I want to play with him,” he cried. “Why won’t his body work? Why doesn’t his heart beat?”
“I’m afraid that’s one of those questions no forest animal can answer. It’s like asking ‘Who lights up the sun then blows it out?’ or ‘Who collects the pieces of the moon when it disappears, then puts the pieces back when it’s full?’ I know what you can do! Why don’t you make a memory of Skiddil Squirrel? That way, you’ll never forget him.”
“How do you make a memory?” asked Chester.
“You begin by finding something that reminds you of him, the way your piece of tree bark reminds you of the hollow where we used to live.”
“I’d rather have Skiddil Squirrel than something that reminds me of him,” sniffled Chester.
“I know you would,” soothed his mother. “And I know how much you’ll miss him. But making a memory of him will help.” She lift ed Chester off her lap and wrapped his tiny hands in hers. “Tell me what Skiddil Squirrel liked.”
“He liked butterflies,” Chester said thoughtfully, “and acorns!”
“Butterflies and acorns,” his mother repeated out loud. “And where was Skiddil Squirrel’s favorite place to play?”
“The butterfly pond.”
Mrs. Raccoon bent down and kissed Chester on his forehead. Chester’s ears twitched and his muzzle blushed.
“Let’s go see if butterflies and acorns can help us make a memory of Skiddil Squirrel, shall we?” she asked him. She led Chester outside, picked up his little brother Ronny who had his curious little nose inside an anthill, and walked the two cubs down the wooded path toward the butterfly pond.
On their way to the pond, Chester’s best friend Cassy popped out from behind her tree. “Where are you going?” she asked Chester.
“We’re going to the butterfly pond to make a memory of Skiddil Squirrel. Want to come?”
“Okay. But I don’t know how to make a memory.”
“You find something like my piece of tree bark, only it’s not tree bark because it has to do with butterflies and acorns, and it’s something that reminds you of Skiddil Squirrel.”