Barnaby the Easily Angry Rabbit
At the edge of Acorn Forest, there was a tiny mushroom house, and inside lived a rabbit named Barnaby.
Barnaby was a very cute rabbit. He had long ears, a round little tail, and a nose that always wiggled. But he had one little problem—he got angry far too easily.
In the morning, if his carrot bread got a bit burnt, he would huff, “Hmph! Today is going to be a terrible day!”
At noon, if his squirrel friend bounced over to say hello and accidentally knocked his blueberries off the table, he would cry, “Oh no! My blueberries!”
In the afternoon, if he tried to take a nap on the grass and the wind blew his dandelion hat away, he would get even angrier: “Even the wind is against me!”
Whenever Barnaby got angry, his body would slowly puff up, just like a round little balloon. His face turned red, his ears stood straight up, and even his tail became stiff.
One day, Barnaby was getting ready to go to the forest market to buy a jar of honey. He tied his prettiest scarf around his neck, hung his little basket on his arm, and stepped out happily.
But as soon as he reached the little bridge, a small hedgehog came along, carrying a big bag of apples. The hedgehog was walking in such a hurry that he didn’t see Barnaby and gently bumped into him.
Plop!
Barnaby’s basket fell to the ground. The honey jar rolled twice—it didn’t break, but his scarf got a tiny bit of dirt on it.
Barnaby puffed up right away.
“My scarf! My honey! Everything is against me today!” he said angrily.
The little hedgehog was frightened. “I’m sorry, Barnaby. I didn’t mean to,” he whispered.
But Barnaby was too angry to listen. He picked up his basket and turned away.
As he walked, he heard a tiny voice behind him: “Barnaby, wait!”
Barnaby turned around and saw the little hedgehog running after him, holding a small white flower.
“I picked this by the roadside,” said the hedgehog. “I wanted to give it to you as an apology. Your scarf got a little dirty, but maybe this flower will make it look even nicer if you pin it on.”
Barnaby was surprised.
He looked down at the dirt on his scarf, and then at the little white flower. It was small, but it smelled sweet and fresh, like morning dew.
The hedgehog added, “If you’re still angry, that’s okay. I can help you wash your scarf.”
Suddenly, Barnaby felt that his puffy body didn’t feel quite so uncomfortable anymore.
He said softly, “Actually… I don’t want to stay angry all the time. It’s just that sometimes anger comes too quickly.”
The hedgehog nodded. “Then let’s blow it away together, shall we?”
Barnaby thought for a moment, took a deep breath, and then gently— Whoosh…
He slowly blew the air out of his tummy. Something wonderful happened. As he breathed out, his body stopped being puffy, his ears softened, and his tail became round and fluffy again.
The hedgehog smiled. “See? The anger has flown away!”
Barnaby smiled too. He pinned the little white flower onto his scarf and discovered that it really did look even better.
They walked to the forest market together. Barnaby bought a jar of honey and a small bag of apples. He shared half the apples with the hedgehog and said, “Next time, walk a little slower, and I won’t drop my basket.”
The hedgehog nodded. “And next time you feel angry, try taking a deep breath first before deciding whether to stay upset.”
From that day on, Barnaby still got angry once in a while. When his bread got burnt, he would wrinkle his nose. When the wind blew his hat away, he would still stamp his feet. But he learned to take a deep breath first, and slowly blow the anger away.
Sometimes, he would even pin the little white flower on his scarf, to remind himself: anger is like a small dark cloud—it comes quickly, but it also floats away soon.
That night, Barnaby lay in his mushroom house, hugging his soft pillow. Outside the window, the moon hung from the oak branches like a gentle little lantern.
He whispered to himself, “I didn’t stay angry all day. What a lovely day.”
Then he closed his eyes, and with the sweet smell of honey in the air, he fell fast asleep.
Goodnight, little Barnaby. Sleep tight, and may your dreams be as sweet as honey.
