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Today, we're reading a story for small bear written by Alice B McGinty and illustrated by Richard Jones.

Story Start

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When a late autumn wind swirled into their den afternoon time nap, small bear shivered river. I smell frost in the air. Mama said tonight, we'll start our winter slumber. Small bear snuggled close. Will you tell me stories before we sleep? She asked. I love that mama said, but there's work to finish first. If you help, no dilly, no dally. Then we'll have time for stories. Small bear got right to work with the sun shining high. She helped mama gather sprigs of spruce to make a soft, warm nest. As small bear rake the forest floor, she came upon her favorite spot, The cozy hole in the spruce tree. She rubbed her nose in the sweet smelling wood. Mm. She scratched her back. Uh, she could dilly dally here forever. But then Augusta Frigidaire ruffled her fur and small bear shuttered. She did not like cold, not at all. Small bear thought of mom and nearby. Nope, Dilley. She told herself. Nope, dally. Wind was biting. Winter knocking. And she had to save time for stories. Goodbye hole said small bear. And she carried the sprigs back to line her winter bed. As the sun drifted slowly across the sky, small bear and mama lumbered to the river to bathe. Small bear tumbled into the clear cool water And shimmied until all the dirt had been washed from her for. Ah, She splashed and splashed. Um, No dilly. She knew that's what mama would say. Still she rolled and wriggled and played some more. No dally, small bear thought. But it was so hard to leave. What could she do? Wind was biting winter knocking. And she had to save time for stories. Finally firmly small bear waited to shore. Goodbye river. She said. And shook herself dry. Mama small bear called. Where are you? Mama? At last small bear saw her and ran to meet her by the Barry Grove. Late day, sunshine warm. The Ms. They munched on Barry's juicy and dread. Then small bear salt acorns high above. Up up. Up. She climbed one branch to another date, acorn after acorn. Hmm. She looked out from the branches. Uh, she could climb forever. But now the sun began to curve into sunset. No dilly small bear reminder to self. Still she reached for a particularly plump acorn. No dally, small bear said. The, how could she leave? The forest was full of food and adventure. Suddenly those small bear shivered for her. Sun was setting. Wind was biting. Winter knocking. And she had to save time for stories. Small bear knew what to do. Goodbye trees. She said, and down she scrambled. Mama. She called. She scampered between bushes scurried over rocks. Mama mama. Finally, small bear SAR, lumbering near the Mulberry trees. Here I am mama. She said. And together they started down the path toward home. Back in their den, warm and clean and fed small bear and her mama nestled down into their spruce bound nest. Did I save enough time for stories, small bear ass. You did mama answered and pulled her clothes? In a deep rumbling voice. Mama began. Once there lived a small bear who loved to play. Her mama watched. Does she scratched in her cozy hole? No dilly. Splashed and your clear, cool stream. No dally. And adventured in the tall, tall trees. Was she saved time for stories. Small bear listened content because she knew how this story would end. And as the first snowflakes of winter, floated down, outside, she drifted off to sleep.