The Little Owl and the Big Tree
By: Meg
Tags: Short Story, New York City, Childrens Books, Christmas, Childrens Stories

Once upon an unprecedented time, in a faraway land called Albany, a nest of eggs hidden in a woodpecker’s hole began to hatch. Five baby owls pushed their way through the shells and blinked at one another with big yellow eyes.

They were saw-whet owls, and like their parents and their parents’ parents and their parents’ parents’ parents, the new baby owls were quite tiny. Even as they grew older and learned to fly and live in the forest, they remained small. Because of their size, they were often picked on by the other more majestic owls.

But like their parents and their parents’ parents and their parents’ parents’ parents, the little owls became tough. Despite their size, or perhaps because of it, they learned how to fend for themselves. They also learned to have fun in the forest. They played owl-tag and jumped rope with pine needles. Sometimes they even played peek-a-hoo! All of them, that is, except one owl who was particularly small and particularly fearful.

This owl preferred the safe shadows of branches and could often be found hiding in them, away from the other owls where she felt safe.

“Be brave, my little owl,” Mother Owl always said, nudging her to go play with the others.

“Small can be powerful,” Father Owl would add, singing from a nearby branch.

The little owl did her best. She tried to fly and hunt like her siblings, and she paid attention in owl-school, but she often felt nervous or scared. She wished she could be braver, but it felt too difficult.

One day, the little owl was daydreaming, hiding in the shadows of the branches, when a large and scary metal monster made its way through the forest, clanking, and roaring. The others fled, but the small owl hid, tucking her head into her wings and clinging to the bark. She closed her big eyes until darkness settled over her and the cries of the metal monster were replaced with a different noise: the sound of a waterfall of air.

The little owl untucked her head from her wing and opened her big yellow eyes. She called for her mother and her father and her siblings, but it was dark and no one responded. She felt her way along the branch and realized something heavy was wrapped around it, constraining the tree and trapping her inside.

“Be brave, be brave,” she whispered to herself as she crawled along the branch and peeked her head out to see all of U.S. Route 9 passing by in a blur. The little owl crawled back into the darkness and did what she did best. She closed her eyes tight and hid.

Hours later, just when the little owl thought the worst was coming to an end, the metal monster awoke and lifted the tree into the air and out into a new kind of forest, one nothing like she’d ever seen before.

Giant gray, angular trees stretched above her and arched overhead. It looked as if they were growing down from the sky. They were extremely tall, extremely ugly, and seemed dead, at least from what the little owl could tell from her spot in the tree.

Suddenly, there was a scurrying sound, and a new creature appeared with a large, round face and the brightest orange fur the little owl had ever seen. The two looked at one another and blinked in surprise.

“Be brave, be brave,” the little owl whispered to herself, her feathers trembling with fear. The orange creature picked her up and lifted her gently out of the tree, carrying her to where more creatures in bright-colored fur stood.

The little owl thought about squeezing her eyes shut again to try and hide, but instead, she kept them open and studied the strange, smiling creatures with their funny voices and weird fur.

She didn’t know where she was, or what would happen next. She didn’t know she had just ridden the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree all the way into New York City. She didn’t know how hard a year 2020 had been for the creatures staring at her and smiling. What the little owl did know is she no longer felt the urge to close her eyes or climb back into the shadows of the tree and hide. Instead, she wanted to face the world, to be a part of it. She wanted to fly.

The little owl tried to move her wings, but one was injured. Still, she kept her big yellow eyes wide open. Though she was scared, the little owl felt something else, too. She finally felt brave. She trusted the strange creatures to help her recover for a long flight home to her family and friends to play owl-tag and jump pine-needle-rope.

While the little owl healed, the creatures of New York City celebrated her unexpected arrival. Her picture took flight across the internet, showing that small can indeed be powerful. They named her Rockefeller, and they ‘oohed’ and ‘awed’ at her big yellow eyes. Without realizing it, the little owl brought a little happiness, a little magic, and taught the big city that even when things are scary, always remember to be brave.