| Fudge-Nut Squirrel's First Christmas by David Rosenberg |
| "Fudge-Nut, if you don't stop squirming, I'm going to nudge you outside in the cold," Chester-Nut said. "How can anyone sleep in this nest with all your fidgeting?" Fudge-Nut looked at his father and trembled at the thought of being outside in the snow and brutal wind. "Chester-Nut Squirrel, what are you trying to do, give our son a bad dream? You know it's his first winter," Hazel-Nut said, trying to calm Fudge-Nut, who was still learning how to survive as a squirrel and winter hardships. Chester-Nut's nose curled upwards. It always did that when he was upset. "Maybe he'd like to go live in the human's nest." "I don't like the humans. I'm scared of them," Fudge-Nut Squirrel said as he nestled closer to his mother. "There, there Fudge-Nut—no one's going to put you outside," Hazel-Nut said, giving her mate an angry look for terrifying their son. "And I don't think you have to worry about the humans who live in the gray nest. They don't come out much in the winter." Fudge-Nut's eyes brightened somewhat. "I'm still scared of them. What good are they anyway?" "All creatures have a purpose," Chester-Nut grumbled. "I have to agree with your mom that those humans seem pretty nice. They don't bother us when were searching in our yard for seeds and nuts." Fudge-Nut looked at his mom to see if she agreed. "That's right, Fudge-Nut. The human called Day-vid uses a noisy thing that chops up grass. It's much easier to find seeds and nuts when the grass is not too high," Hazel-Nut said. "And remember what happened when you didn't stay on the grass like we told you?" Fudge-Nut nodded. "Yes, mom, the squirrel flattener almost ran over me." "That's right, Fudge-Nut, but the one they call, Soosan, stopped the squirrel flattener and let you scamper away," Chester-Nut said. "You were very lucky. Most of the humans roll down between our yards and won't stop their squirrel flatteners." "And the other human they call, Awd-rey, did something that helped squirrels in every yard. That's really why we named you, Fudge-Nut," Hazel-Nut said. "I don't understand," Fudge-Nut said, as his nose quivered as it always did when he was curious. "Awww, save it for tomorrow," Chester-Nut said. "I need to sleep in case it stops snowing." Hazel-Nut looked at her son and ignored her mate. "If I tell you the story, will you go to sleep?" "I really want to know," Fudge-Nut's said, as his nose quivered again. "Last year about this time when the first snow fell, the humans put up all those fancy lights outside their nest." "Don't forget to use the lights, to warm your paws while you're looking for food," Chester-Nut said, causing Hazel-Nut to sneer at him for interrupting. "Your father was up on one of the high branches looking into the human's nest. From there he could see what they were doing inside their nest. The humans are most interesting to watch. They actually bring a tree inside their nest and put lights and all kinds of things on the tree." Fudge-Nut's nose continued to quiver as he listened. "The human called Awd-rey was right by one of the openings and you know how good your father is at finding nuts. Well, Awd-rey had piles and piles of nuts. Naturally, he wondered if they would share those nuts with us." "Did they share? Huh, huh—did they share," Fudge-Nut interrupted. "Get on with the story, Hazel-Nut so I can sleep," Chester-Nut said. "Awd-rey spent a lot of time putting the nuts and a lot of other things in bowls," Hazel-Nut said. "It took her all day, and I could smell the nuts all the way up in our tree," Chester-Nut said. "Later in the day, when the bright light in the sky was almost gone, she put dozens and dozens of these little squares in fancy boxes." "And she wrapped each box in pretty paper," Hazel-Nut continued. "Then you know what she did?" "No, mom—what?" Fudge-Nut asked. "She put all those packages out on the back porch. The packages smelled so good, so naturally I went over to look," Chester-Nut said. "I ran down the tree and hopped through the snow and climbed up on the railing to look on the porch. There I saw a little hole in the screen door." "By this time I could smell the nuts and something else that smelled so sweet, all the way up in our nest. I was a little worried about your father as he made the hole in the screen a little bigger and went inside the human's nest," Hazel-Nut said. "Weren't you scared, dad?" Fudge-Nut asked. "Not me! I figured whatever was in those boxes were for us. Why would a human put them on the porch and then make a hole in the screen door if they didn't want us to get to the nuts?" "Whatddya do then? Huh, huh?" Fudge-Nut asked. "He nibbled away at the screen to get to those packages to get inside," Hazel-Nut said. "Yes, after I nibbled away at the packages, it was wonderful. I tasted what Awd-rey made. It was more than nuts. It was sweet and rich, and heavenly. Little dark brown and light brown squares to nibble on—I never tasted anything so good," Chester-Nut said. "Then what happened? Huh, huh?" Fudge-Nut asked. "I gave your mom the special signal to join me because there were boxes and boxes of these wonderful treats." "You know I don't like to run through the snow," Hazel-Nut said. "These treats were so good, I didn't mind getting my belly wet and cold. It was all I could do to get your father to bring some back to our nest. He wanted to stay and eat as many as he could." "They were terrific, but your mom was right. It was time to think about storing them for later in the winter," Chester-Nut said. "So we started bring the little squares back to our nest. At first, the snow made it so hard to go back and forth, but we made so many trips that the snow squashed down and it became easier," Hazel-Nut said. "Did you get all of them?" Fudge-Nut asked. "All of them! I wish—but you know how our nosey neighbor squirrels are. They could smell the nuts and sweetness too," Chester-Nut said. "The next thing we knew all our neighbor squirrels came to take away the little squares. We worked all through the night and most of the next day nibbling through the packages and carrying away the little squares." "That winter, none of the squirrels we knew starved and none lost their tales from the cold while trying to forage for food." "Well why did you name me Fudge-Nut?" "Well, when Awd-rey saw that we took away the little squares we heard her say My-fudge, My-fudge and she was so happy that she cried. Humans do that you know," Hazel-Nut said. "Since we had many squares for the winter and didn't have to search for food—well your father and I spent more time together and a little later you were born." "We were going to call you My-Fudge-Nut, but your mom thought that was a little too much—so we shortened your name to Fudge-Nut." "Do you think that Awd-rey will make more of those squares? Do ya, huh, huh?" Fudge-Nut asked. "I've been looking everyday, Fudge-Nut, but I don't think they have any nuts this year," Chester-Nut said. "Now that's the end of the story and you promised to go to sleep." "Yes, but if the humans don't have any nuts for the winter, won't they starve?" Fudge-Nut asked. Chester-Nut chuckled. "Maybe, but I think humans are pretty good at getting the food they need. Now go to sleep." Fudge-Nut nestled closer to his mom and felt the heat from her body. Chester-Nut soon fell asleep and snored a little as he always did. Fudge-Nut squirmed again to get closer to his mother's ear. "What is it, dear?" Hazel-Nut asked. "I'm worried about the humans," Fudge-Nut said and then whispered to his mom what he wanted to do. The next morning Susan, David, and Audrey left the warmth of their beds after a good night's sleep. David turned on the Christmas tree lights and played some beautiful Christmas music. Susan put on the coffee pot and helped her mom, Audrey, set the breakfast table. Soon the cinnamon-pecan sticky buns were ready—a special treat for the Christmas holiday. After breakfast, they left the dirty dishes on the table and gathered around the Christmas tree. Susan played Santa, and passed out the presents to her mom and her husband, David. There were packages from near and far, from friends, relatives and neighbors. There were sweaters and shirts, books and music, and good things to eat. There were piles and piles of wrapping paper and empty boxes. Susan, Audrey, and David laughed as they celebrated the glorious holiday. Later, David gathered the wrapping paper and a few boxes so they could move around in the living room. He took a double arm-load down to the garage for the garbage collection on Wednesday. "Get the newspaper, on the way back," Susan yelled to her husband. David opened the front door, but noticed a small package in torn red Christmas paper on top of the newspaper. "Hey, what's this?" he asked as he tucked the newspaper under his arm and showed Susan what he found. "It looks like a gift." "Open it up," Audrey suggested. David removed the wrinkled wrapping paper from the package and found three perfect acorns. "Who would leave us acorns for a present?" Susan asked. Then suddenly they knew. The small package was a gift of love, from the very culprits that took last year's fudge. Susan, David, and Audrey sat among the dirty breakfast dishes and discussed what they would do with the most beautiful gift they received for Christmas. Together they decided to plant the acorns so that sometime in the future, many acorns would fall from oak trees and many squirrels would have food for the winter. |
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