Under the oldest oak tree in Gugu Forest lived a fluffy little brown bear named Barnaby.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Barnaby had a favorite red hat\u2014not bright red, nor dark red, but the warm red of a ripe strawberry in the evening sun. Grandma had knitted it for him last winter, and the brim was trimmed with a circle of soft pom-poms; when he wore it, it covered the tips of his round ears perfectly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Unfortunately, Barnaby was a bit \u201cclumsy.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Not the kind of clumsy that\u2019s silly, but\u2014he always steps on the pad of his left paw when he walks, always bumps into the doorframe when he turns around, and eight times out of ten gets chased by bees when he tries to harvest honey from a hive. The little animals in the forest secretly call him \u201cClumsy Bear,\u201d but no one means any harm; it\u2019s as natural as calling someone \u201cSneezing Rabbit.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That morning, Barnaby put on his red hat and headed to the riverbank to pick blueberries. Sunlight filtered through the gaps in the leaves, scattering like shards of gold across the brim of his hat. He was in a wonderful mood, humming a nursery rhyme his grandmother had taught him:<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cRed hat, round and round,
Worn on my head like a sunny day\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Just as he was humming it for the third time, he spotted the ripest cluster of blueberries on the opposite bank of the river. Barnaby took a deep breath and, as usual\u2014dived in.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cSplash!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He hadn\u2019t jumped across the river. He\u2019d missed his footing and fallen right in.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The water was cool but not very deep; Barnaby splashed around a couple of times before standing up\u2014the water only came up to his belly. But when he looked down\u2014oh no.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
His red hat was gone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The current was carrying the hat downstream; that warm red blur looked like a mischievous balloon, bobbing and drifting farther away. Barnaby cried out in panic, \u201cMy hat! My hat!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He took a few steps to chase it, but his foot slipped, and he fell flat on his bottom again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Just then, a soft voice came from the riverbank: \u201cDon\u2019t worry, Barnaby, I\u2019ll help you!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It was Lila the squirrel. With a flick of her tail, she darted like a bolt of lightning through several low-hanging willow branches and landed lightly on a rocky outcrop in the middle of the river. She crouched down and reached out with her little paws\u2014just managing to grab the pom-pom on the hat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But just as she was about to leap back, a sudden gust of wind blew past, and the hat slipped from her paws, drifting higher and farther away.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cOh no!\u201d Lila covered her mouth with her paws.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Barnaby sat in the water, his wet fur clinging to his body, looking like a loaf of soaked bread. He didn\u2019t cry; he just watched the red hat drifting farther and farther away with sparkling eyes and whispered, \u201cIs it going on a trip?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Lila hopped back onto the bank and patted his shoulder. \u201cLet\u2019s ask everyone for help!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Soon, the news spread like dandelion seeds\u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Pip the rabbit poked his head out of his burrow. \u201cThe red hat? I saw it! It drifted past the reeds!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Bart the beaver slapped the water with his tail. \u201cI\u2019ll help you stop it!\u201d He quickly snapped off a few thin twigs and built a small fence across the water.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But the hat was too light; it slipped through the gaps in the fence and continued drifting downstream.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Owl Olive was supposed to be sleeping during the day, but she heard the commotion and opened one of her round eyes: \u201cHeading south? There\u2019s a little waterfall over there\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Barnaby\u2019s heart sank. Although the little waterfall wasn\u2019t very high, if the hat fell down it, he\u2019d probably never find it again.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He scrambled ashore, shook off the water droplets, then suddenly took a deep breath and set off running along the riverbank on his short legs. He ran clumsily\u2014his left foot tripping over his right, nearly crashing into a birch tree, slipping on a pebble\u2014but he didn\u2019t stop.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cRed Hat\u2014\u201d he shouted as he ran, \u201cWait for me\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The other little animals followed him. Lila hopped from branch to branch, pointing the way; Pip moved his short legs as fast as he could; and Bart simply swam in the water to help guide them.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Finally, just a few steps from the little waterfall, the hat got caught on a cluster of wild rose branches hanging down over the water. The red brim swayed among the thorns, like a flower that refused to fall.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Barnaby stood at the water\u2019s edge, stretching out his paws\u2014just a little bit short.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He stood on his tiptoes, leaning forward, then a little further\u2014<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cSplash!\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
This time, he dove in on purpose.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
He plunged right into the wild rosebush, letting out a \u201cyow\u201d as the thorns pricked him, but his paws clamped firmly around the red hat. Then, clutching the hat, he rolled \u201cgurgle, gurgle\u201d back to the shallows with the current, like a round, fluffy ball of fur.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
When he stood up, covered in rose leaves and tiny droplets of water, he held the hat tightly against his chest\u2014it was soaked through, the pom-pom drooping, and there was a small tear in the brim.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But he was beaming with joy.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cI got it back,\u201d he said.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
All the little animals gathered around. Lila helped him brush the leaves off his head, Pip wiped his face with his tail, and Bart pushed over a large lotus leaf, saying, \u201cSit down and take a rest.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Barnaby turned the hat over and over in his hands, and suddenly noticed that the tear was right on the side of the hat\u2014just like a tiny smile.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cNow it has a mouth,\u201d he said, holding up the hat for his friends to see. \u201cBefore, it just sat there quietly, but now it can smile.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Everyone paused for a moment, then they all laughed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
That evening, Barnaby returned to the spot under the oak tree and hung his wet hat on a small twig. In the moonlight, the red hat took on a soft, deep red hue, and the tear really did look like the curve of a smiling mouth.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Lying in his hay nest, he gazed at the hat and whispered, \u201cI\u2019m sorry I let you fall into the river.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The hat didn\u2019t say anything, but it seemed to be smiling.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cBut,\u201d Barnaby rolled over and hugged his tail, \u201cif I hadn\u2019t fallen into the river, I wouldn\u2019t have known that Lila could run so fast, that Pip was so helpful, that Bart could build fences, or that Olive would stay awake even during the day to help me\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
As he listed them off, his voice grew softer and softer.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cTomorrow\u2026 I\u2019m going to share the blueberries with everyone\u2026\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
After finishing that last half-sentence, the little clumsy bear closed his eyes and fell asleep, snoring softly.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
And his red hat hung outside the window, swaying gently in the night breeze, like a warm, damp, rose-scented dream.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Good night, Barnaby. Good night, red hat.
Good night, to every child who\u2019s a little \u201cclumsy\u201d but whose heart is full of light.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Little Bear\u2019s Red Hat<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":830,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[15],"tags":[21,18],"class_list":["post-828","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-children","tag-children","tag-story"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/storyrecyclebin.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/828","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/storyrecyclebin.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/storyrecyclebin.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storyrecyclebin.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storyrecyclebin.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=828"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/storyrecyclebin.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/828\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":831,"href":"https:\/\/storyrecyclebin.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/828\/revisions\/831"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storyrecyclebin.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/830"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/storyrecyclebin.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=828"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storyrecyclebin.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=828"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storyrecyclebin.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=828"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}