The Little Acorn
By: Anestassia Ibanez
To my best friend.

There once was a little acorn that hung on a branch of the tallest oak tree. From its branch, the acorn could see and hear all the wonders around it.



From the rushing of the long winding river, to the lush green hills in the distance spotted with yellow, pink, and purple flowers, the little acorn could see it all.


















Every day, as the little acorn hung from its branch, creatures would pass by and speak of the adventures they had.











Squirrels jumping from tree to tree, playing a game of tag. Raccoons bragging of the treasures they found the night before. Ducks swimming in the crystal-clear water, splashing and quacking with their little ones. Deer prancing through the meadows, eating a flower or two. And birds stopping on a nearby branch to rest from their long journey from faraway places.









Oh, how the little acorn wished to go on amazing adventures of its own, but there it hung on the branch of the oak tree.
“Was this all I was meant for?” thought the little acorn, “to hang from the branch of this oak tree forever?"
As the days got colder and greens turned to browns and yellows, there the acorn hung, wishing for something. But what?





















Then, one day, a strong wind knocked the little acorn from the branch of the oak tree. Down, down, down it fell till it hit the cold hard ground.

“I’m free!” exclaimed the little acorn. “I’m free!”


But as the little acorn lay on the ground, fear slowly crept in. “I am not like those creatures,” the little acorn panicked, “I cannot swim, or prance, or fly. Instead of hanging safe on my branch, now I am exposed on the ground.”
The little acorn lay on the ground, waiting. Along came a deer and the little acorn was filled with hope. But the deer kept walking, and not seeing the acorn, the deer accidentally kicked the acorn across the ground.


The little acorn rolled across the uneven ground and plopped into the river. The water was cold. The little acorn floated up to the surface.















Along the windy river the little acorn floated, passing where the ducks once played. As the little acorn floated along, a bird swooped down and grabbed the little acorn between its beak.












Up the bird flew, high into the air. The little acorn was soaring. From high in the sky the little acorn could see everything, including its old home, the oak tree and its branch. The little acorn missed its branch.

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The Little Acorn
By: Anestassia Ibanez
To my best friend.

There once was a little acorn that hung on a branch of the tallest oak tree. From its branch, the acorn could see and hear all the wonders around it.



From the rushing of the long winding river, to the lush green hills in the distance spotted with yellow, pink, and purple flowers, the little acorn could see it all.


















Every day, as the little acorn hung from its branch, creatures would pass by and speak of the adventures they had.











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