· 1 ·
The meadow was still asleep when Happy Bee opened her eyes. The sun had only just begun to stretch its golden arms over the hill, and the dew on the grass was still cold and quiet.
Four pages from the very start of the book. Read them out loud — they were written to be heard.
· 1 ·
The meadow was still asleep when Happy Bee opened her eyes. The sun had only just begun to stretch its golden arms over the hill, and the dew on the grass was still cold and quiet.
· 2 ·
She wiggled her wings. They felt small. Sometimes, when you wake up, your wings feel small. That's just how mornings work.
· 3 ·
But Happy Bee remembered what Old Oak had told her, the night before, just before the moon got tired. 'Even small wings,' he had said, 'can find the biggest meadow. They just have to start.'
· 4 ·
So she started. Not with a great big buzz, but with a small one. And the meadow started to stir, just a little, just enough — as if it had been waiting for her all along.
Twenty-eight more pages. Petal the butterfly, the big blue sky, and one very surprising friend on page 27.