The Sleepy Bear Cub

Deep inside the forest, under an old spruce tree with long branches, there was a big warm bear den. The den smelled of earth and moss and soft fur. Inside the den lived a little bear cub named Bruna. Her mother was fast asleep. Her little brother was asleep. Her little sister was asleep. All the bears in the whole forest were asleep. All of them except Bruna. Only Bruna was awake.

Outside the den, the snow fell slowly. Flake after flake, slow, slow. The wind whispered in the branches. Shhhh, shhhh. It was winter now. And winter means long, long sleep for bears. A whole winter with closed eyes. A whole winter of warm dreams. But Bruna could not sleep. She rolled this way. She rolled that way. Something was missing. Something soft and warm.

She knew what it was. It was Grandma's blanket. The old wool blanket Grandma had woven a long, long time ago. It was green like moss in spring. It was soft like a tiny cloud. It had little patterns on it, like flowers and stars. Bruna always slept with Grandma's blanket. Always. But now it was gone. She could not see it anywhere.

Bruna rubbed her sleepy eyes with her paws. Where could the blanket be? She looked to the right. No blanket. She looked to the left. No blanket. She looked up at the ceiling of earth and roots. No blanket there either. She saw only sleeping bears and soft dark shadows. 'I have to look', she whispered to herself, very quietly. 'I have to look all around the den.'

Carefully, carefully Bruna crept along. She did not want to wake Mama. She did not want to wake her brother and sister. Her little paws made almost no sound at all. Pat, pat, pat. Soft, soft, soft. She walked over to a big pile of pine branches in one corner. That was where Mama liked to put things to store them. Maybe, maybe the blanket was there?

Bruna lifted one branch. Carefully. No blanket. Only pine needles. She lifted another. Even more carefully. No blanket. Only more needles. She lifted a third branch and found a forgotten pinecone. She touched the pinecone. The pinecone was rather soft. But not at all as soft as Grandma's blanket. Not at all. Bruna put the pinecone back and sighed a tiny, tiny sigh.