The Story of Bushel of Kindness
Rabbit loved growing her vegetables. Gardening was her passion, and her pride and joy were her carrots: Parisian, Dragon, and even the rare wild purple kind. Carrots were her specialty, though she also had a knack for growing fruits and berries of every sort. Each morning, just before the sun touched the horizon, Rabbit could be found tending to her garden, watering rows of green, brushing dew from leaves, and humming softly as she worked.
On Mondays, she brought her harvest to the Hickory Forest Market, her cart piled high with baskets of colorful produce. Her stand was always the most popular, woodland animals traveled from far and wide just to taste her sweet carrots and ripe berries. Rabbit always greeted each friend with a warm smile and a cheerful “Good morning!”
One chilly late-October morning, as Rabbit was setting up her market stand, she noticed a small gray bundle curled up near the path. Curious, she hopped closer. The tiny ball of fur shivered in the crisp air. Gently, Rabbit nudged it with her paw. No movement. She nudged again. Slowly, a tiny head lifted, blinking sleepy eyes. It was a baby mouse.
“Oh dear,” said Rabbit softly, “why are you out here all alone, little one? Where is your mother?”
“I don’t know,” the mouse squeaked. “She didn’t come home last night, so I went to find her—but I got lost.”
Rabbit’s heart melted. “Don’t worry, dear. You’ll be safe with me.”
She brought the little mouse to her stand, wrapped her in one of her soft woven display blankets, and offered a small bowl of berries. “Help yourself to whatever you’d like,” she said kindly. The mouse nibbled until her eyes grew heavy, then curled up in a bed of dried leaves Rabbit had gathered.
As the market bustled with chatter, Rabbit noticed a mouse rushing through the crowd, calling out desperately. “Has anyone seen my baby?” she asked every stall.
Rabbit’s ears perked up. She waved her paw. “Over here!”
The mother mouse scurried over. When Rabbit lifted the blanket, the tiny mouse awoke and squeaked with joy. They embraced tightly, tears sparkling in their eyes.
“Thank you,” said the mother, her voice trembling. “You’ve given me back my heart.”
Rabbit smiled softly. As she packed up her stand that evening, she thought to herself, Some harvests are measured not in bushels, but in kindness.