Following the directions Rabbit had provided, the little owl clutched the letter in his talons once again and flew across the street and into the woods, where he found Mr. Owl’s schoolhouse without too much trouble.

Then, following the directions he’d originally been given by Mr. Owl’s elderly aunt (who had asked him to deliver the letter in the first place), he faced the schoolhouse door, turned right, flew approximately twenty-five paces, and found the giant, mostly hollow, tulip poplar tree that was Mr. Owl’s house.

He grabbed the doorbell chain with one foot, gave it a pull, and waited.

(Early August 2024)

Story © Jennifer McClain Singleton / Read+Purr

This is another vignette in my ongoing series of Tiny Garden Stories: peaceful 1-minute tales that let you read like a kid again. Click one of the first two buttons below to go to (or back to, if that’s where you fell down the rabbit hole) either the “Public Garden” archive page or (if you’re a Story Club member) to the members-only “Private Garden” page. Or click the third button to learn more about my Tiny Garden Stories.

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