Mara and the Tiny Ferry

After a hard rain, Mara found a puddle as wide as her red boots. In the middle was a little island of moss.

A worried beetle sat on the moss, waving its shiny legs. “I was going to the bean patch,” it said. “Then the water came.”

Mara crouched at the puddle’s edge. Across the water, tall bean leaves dripped in the sun. “You need a ferry,” she said.

Mara looked around. A fallen leaf was too floppy. A pebble was too heavy. Beneath the hedge, she found a small piece of bark, curved like a boat.

She set it on the puddle. It floated, but spun round and round. “Not yet,” said Mara.

She laid a long blade of grass across the bark as a tiny rail. Then she used a twig to guide the ferry toward the moss island.

The beetle stepped aboard. One shiny foot, then another. The ferry tipped a little.

Mara held her breath. “Stay still,” she whispered.

The beetle gripped the grass rail while Mara pushed with the twig. Push. Glide. Push. Glide.

Then a drop fell from a bean leaf. Plop! Ripples wobbled the little boat. The beetle held on tight, and Mara waited until the water was still again.

At last, the ferry bumped gently against the far bank. The beetle stepped onto the mud beside the bean patch.

“Thank you, Ferry Captain Mara!” it said. It hurried under a bean leaf, then peeked out. “Would you like to see where I was going?”

Mara nodded and followed the beetle along a narrow mud path. Under the biggest bean leaf, six tiny beetles waited beside one round green bean.

“We saved this for our picnic,” said the beetle. “Now we can all eat together.”

Mara smiled. She did not need a beetle-sized bean. She had a seat beneath the leaf, with soft rain tapping overhead.

When the sun came out, the puddle grew smaller. Mara carried the bark ferry to the garden wall and set it there to dry.

The next time it rained, she knew exactly where to find it.