Bobo and the Thunder Hug

The sun went to sleep behind the big green hills. The forest grew soft and warm and quiet. Inside a round hollow den, a big brown bear called Bobo was folding his blanket. His fur smelled like honey and warm hay… and his paws were slow and heavy with sleep. Outside, the first summer rain began to tap.

Then the sky made a sound. BOOM. It rolled over the trees like a big round ball. A little grey mouse jumped. A little brown bunny jumped. A little round hedgehog jumped, and all his tiny prickles stood up straight. Three small hearts went pat-pat-pat in the dark. They ran and ran, all the way to Bobo's warm door.

Bobo opened his big door. He was warm as a loaf of bread just out of the oven. Bobo said, very softly, that the thunder was not angry at all… it was only the sky playing a big, big drum. Boom, said the drum. Boom… and then quiet. Bobo opened his arms wide. Come in, little ones, he said. Come into the hug.

First came the mouse. She was so small, so soft, like a little grey button. She climbed up Bobo's warm arm and curled into his fur, right by his heart. And then the sky said boom again… but this time, the boom sounded a little bit smaller. The mouse blinked. She was not so scared now. Bobo hummed a low, slow hum.

Next came the bunny. His long ears were shaking, just a tiny bit. He hopped once… twice… and tucked himself under Bobo's chin, where the fur was thickest and warmest. The rain sang on the roof of the den. And the sky said boom — but softer, like a drum in another room. Two little friends. One big hug.