The Humongous Moose
 and the Teensy Fairy

by Adrienne F. Potter

Copyright July 2004 by Adrienne Potter.  All rights reserved. May be copied for classroom

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New Vocabulary words: humongous, lummox, infinitesimally

 

Once upon a time there was a very large, humongous moose in the forest.  A very small and teensy fairy happened upon him just has he was about to take a step.  “Ouch!” screamed out the little fairy in a teensy, yet very loud voice.  “You knocked me out of the air!”  She flew up into his face and hovered there, crying angrily, “Why don’t you look where you’re going, you big, clumsy lummox!”  A very large tear emerged from his very large eye and began to roll down his humongous, hairy cheek.  It fell down through the air and would have landed on the fairy had she not darted out of the way.

 

“Now look what you’ve done!” “You could have drowned me!” she shouted indignantly in her small voice. 

 

The moose was quite angry by now and forgot that his feelings were hurt.  “Well what do you want me to do?—Stop moving and breathing and roll over and die?!”

 

“No,” she answered, “because then you’ll smash the flowers and insects and the earthworms beneath you who help to make the forest so beautiful.”

 

“Oh gosh,” he answered sarcastically.  “I’ll try to never take another step.”  They were silent for a moment as each thought of what to do next.  Then the moose gave a great sigh and said, “I guess you were not aware that all the things beneath my feet exist to serve me.”

 

The fairy gave out a tiny, yet very loud exclamation of disgust.  “No! I was most certainly NOT aware of that.  That is beyond a doubt the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard.  The truth is that you exist to serve the forest!  And you should be doing that and not knocking about clumsily and killing things right and left with every step you take!”

 

“I exist to serve the forest?!  Ha, ha, ha!”  He laughed and laughed with deep bellows that made the nearby lake ripple.  You and what army are going to make me do that?” he asked the little fairy, who looked suddenly chagrined.  She quickly regained her confidence.

 

“I can make you!” she exclaimed, and she waved her wand defiantly and cast a teensy spell on him, which landed on his left ear in a teensy blaze of colorful, yet molecular stars, sent up a very tiny plume of small smoke, and disappeared in a poof.

 

“Well, I’m waiting,” said the Moose.

 

“OOOOH!” exclaimed the fairy, stamping her foot in exasperation.  She took a deep breath and tried again.  This time a slightly larger spell emerged from the wand and bopped him on the nose.  “That tickles,” he told her.  “Do it again.”

 

Now she summoned every ounce of strength and magic that she had, and every liter of determination, and thrust her whole body towards him with the wand outstretched.   Thousands of tiny stars shot out from the tip of the wand, whirled in circles above his head, and then descended on him like a crown.

 

“I AM the king,” replied the moose, who was now quite amused.

 

The fairy threw down her wand and burst into tiny tears.  The moose sat down next to her on a rock so he didn’t smash anything.  “There, there now,” he soothed her.  “It can’t be as bad as all that.  Chin up!  The world isn’t over yet, you know.”

 

But she sobbed on and on, and so he just sat and listened for a moment.  He noticed her tiny tears and saw her delicate hands clutched together and her teeny toes tensed.  Suddenly a cry was heard in the nearby lake and both their heads went up.

 

“Help! Help!  Save me!” cried a desperate voice.  The moose ran down to the lake with the fairy riding on his head, though he couldn’t even feel her weight.  A young boy was thrashing in the water where he had apparently fallen from a large branch extended over it.

 

“I can’t swim!” he cried in between large gulps of air.  The only thing that kept him from going under was a tiny, yet very strong twig attached to the tree that had snagged his shirt collar.

 

“We’re coming,” shouted the moose.  He splashed into the lake with the fairy fluttering above him and swam towards the boy, who was becoming hysterical.  As they neared the boy he said, “Grab onto my neck.”  The boy did so and the moose began to swim to shore, but in that moment the boy lost his grip as the small, firm twig still gripped his shirt. 

 

The fairy saw the problem and immediately zapped the tiny twig with her wand.  The twig broke, and a tiny wisp of smoke went up in a poof.  The moose went closer to the boy and this time he clung on for dear life as they swam back to shore.

 

“Thank-you, thank-you!” he cried into the moose’s furry neck.  “You saved my life!”

 

“You’re very welcome, I’m sure,” but I couldn’t have done it without this little, teeny, uh, fairy here,” the moose replied through upwards eyes.

 

It was then that the boy saw the tiny creature on the moose’s head and realized that two beings had saved him, not one.  He thanked the fairy also, and then ran off, his faith in the world restored.

 

The fairy and the moose became very good friends after that, and the fairy became his lookout, sitting on his head and warning him if he was about to step on someone or break something.  She learned to always fly above his head and he learned to always watch where he stepped, although the debate—more friendly now--continued as to who was king of what and who was the servant.   Sometimes you would hear tiny little mutterings of, “King of the Forest!?  Everyone here thinks he's a king!  And why would there be 4,000 kings and ten servants?!”

 

And the moose would respond, “What’s that buzzing I hear?”

 

THE END

 

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