Stories are essential tools for verbal development, social-emotional learning, and character education. Intentional parents can use family movies as a basis for storytelling.
Repeat the story of the movie at bedtime, on a rainy day, or at any quiet time. Let your child correct you if you make a mistake and, better yet, encourage your child to tell you the story. Both of you can invent new adventures for Carl, Russell, and all their friends. Your child’s imaginative and verbal capacities will be enhanced if you invent new characters and create situations that are not in the movie. To learn more about enhancing growth and development through stories told to children, go to How to Tell Bedtime Stories . . . Any Time.
Here is a story to read to your child. If you read it at bedtime and your child falls asleep before you are finished, complete the story some other time.
Goodbye, Grandpa
Lola was a young rabbit who lived in a warren under a big oak tree. Her soft brown fur was speckled with whites and grays, and her dark eyes often glimmered with excitement.
The big oak tree stood tall and strong. It grew in the middle of a field where cows grazed on sweet grass. Under the thickest root of the tree was a small den where Lola lived with her mom, dad and grandpa. Mom had dark gray fur and was plump and cuddly. Dad was long and lean. His fur was pale brown, and could easily blend in with the dirt. Dad’s brown fur had saved his life many times. Usually, it was when he was eating tender shoots of lettuce in a garden and the farmer suddenly appeared. Dad would simply lie down, very still. The farmer could look right at him, but couldn’t tell him from the ground.
Grandpa was gray; “silver” he proudly said. He had a glimmer in his eyes, like Lola, and long, long ears that drooped down to his chest. Sometimes, if he was feeling tired, they dragged on the ground when he hopped. Grandpa used to tell Lola that when he was a little bunny, his ears stood straight up and they would touch the leaves on the trees. Lola was never certain if he was telling the truth. She’d never seen a rabbit’s ears stand up that tall; but then again, Grandpa’s ears were the longest in the warren.
Lola’s den was warm and cozy. Every morning, especially in the winter, Lola was the last to wake up, preferring the warmth of the den over the cold air outside.
When she’d finally wake up, Lola would hop slowly to the entrance of the den. She would rest on her back legs and peek out, ears up, pink nose twitching, looking for any sign of danger. Before she could scan the entire field, Grandpa would pop up a few feet away and say “All’s clear over here, scout!”
“Okay,” she would call back, “I’m just gonna go back inside!” But often she wouldn’t go back inside. Instead, crouching down and crawling on her belly, she would sneak up behind Grandpa. When he was least expecting it, she’d pounce and tickle him behind his long gray ears.
Ever since she was a baby rabbit, Lola and her grandpa had a special connection. After all, they had that same twinkle in their eyes. Lola thought that Grandpa was probably her best friend.
There weren’t enough dens in the warren for all the new rabbit families that wanted homes. And so, when Lola was very young, the Chief Rabbit sent her parents to help dig dens for a new warren several fields away. They were gone for four days and Lola stayed at home with Grandpa. When Mom and Dad came back, the den was filled with white clover flowers and there was almost no place for them to sleep. In their absence, Grandpa had shown Lola the clover patch near a small creek that wound through the field. Lola had tasted the white flowers of the clover and, right away, they were her favorite treat. She and Grandpa had spent the days her parents were away collecting white clover flowers and bringing them to the den for a welcome home feast. As the family nibbled happily on their delicious dinner, little Lola told Mom and Dad that white clover blossoms were called “Grandpa flowers”.
Lola’s love for clover flowers, and for Grandpa, continued to grow as they both got older. Sometimes, if he was feeling strong enough, Grandpa would hop with Lola to the creek. They would explore all the different types of flowers, ferns, grasses and bugs. Grandpa would show Lola the best way to pick a clover flower, firmly and with a quick snap of the teeth, in order to get the juiciest, freshest taste. Lola thought that her grandpa was the smartest rabbit in the world.
As Lola continued to grow, the light of summer evenings allowed the rabbits to stay out later than normal. Lola and Grandpa would spend the day exploring nearby fields. Grandpa told Lola stories about Grandma Lola, Grandpa’s wife. Before Lola was born, Grandma had been caught in a trap and ended up in a rabbit stew. Lola was named after her Grandma.
Grandpa would talk about the plans that he and Grandma Lola had made to explore places that few rabbits had ever visited; places that they heard about when traveling rabbits stopped by the warren on their way to distant fields. The travelers kept the rabbits up all night, telling stories of their adventures.
On lazy summer days, as they rested in the safety of a thicket, Grandpa would tell Lola about the far away fields that he and Grandma had planned to visit. After awhile, Lola’s eyes would begin to close, and grandfather and granddaughter would nap in the warm summer sun until calls of “Looolllaaa!! Grrraaaaannndddppaaa! Dinnnnnnerrr!” drifted over the warm grass.
As time went on, the clovers stopped growing as thick and plentiful as they had when Lola was young. Humans had started to spray the fields and meadows with chemicals to stop the clovers from growing; it wrecked their crops, they said. While the rabbits still found plenty of grass to eat, it was “Grandpa flowers” that Lola really wanted. At first she would cry and whine to anyone who would listen, asking why there were no tasty clover flowers. Eventually she realized that clover was hard to come by, and could only be found after a dangerous journey across the road and into the far away fields six farms over.
It was getting close to Lola’s birthday and one morning after a walk along the stream, Grandpa asked Lola what she wanted for her present.
“If I could have anything in the whole wide world?!” she asked, blinking her dark, shining eyes.
“Anything!” her grandpa replied, his eyes glimmering back.
Lola grinned, and at the same time, both she and her grandpa yelled, “Grandpa flowers!”
When Lola woke up on the morning of her birthday, Mom and Dad were busy at their work. Dad was laying out grass for breakfast, and Mom was digging, enlarging the den. When they heard Lola stir, Mom and Dad stopped what they were doing and tossed wildflowers onto her sleepy face. “Happy birthday!” they sang in unison. Lola giggled as the rainbow of petals showered down.
They had a breakfast of fresh water and sweet grass.
“Where’s Grandpa?” Lola asked. Mom and Dad just smiled and kept eating. Lola asked again. And again. And again. And was just about to ask again, when Dad sighed. Lola knew her dad was giving in.
“Well . . . he wanted it to be a surprise . . . but he went to get you clover flowers for your present,” her dad said.
Lola couldn’t believe it. Fresh clover flowers! It had been so long. She closed her eyes and imagined their sweet taste.
Lola waited all day for Grandpa to return. By nightfall, he still had not come back. Lola began to worry. What if a hawk had snatched him up? Or he had gotten caught in a trap like the one that took Grandma? Or what if the stories were wrong, and there weren’t any clovers at fields six farms over and he wound up wandering forever, like the traveling rabbits who told stories of dangerous adventures in far off places?
Lola could tell that something wasn’t right, because Mom and Dad were talking to each other in hushed voices. They only did this when there was a problem or if something very important was going on.
Lola didn’t sleep much that night. She kept waking up and looking around for Grandpa, but he still wasn’t home. By the time the sun rose the next morning, Dad had left to go look for Grandpa. Lola and Mom snuggled quietly all day.
It was hours and hours before Dad came back, looking sorrowful and tired. Lola hopped out to greet him but something was wrong. “Lola, honey, go wait inside,” her dad said. He seemed so sad she didn’t even think to disobey.
Peeking out from around the opening of their den, Lola could hear Dad and Mom talking behind the oak tree in low voices. She couldn’t make out what they were saying. They talked for what felt like ages, before slowly hopping back to the den. Mom had tears in her eyes. They told her that Grandpa loved her very much, and that she meant a lot to him. Lola still wasn’t sure what was going on, but found that she was crying. “I’m scared,” she said between sobs.
Mom and Dad hugged her tight and Dad said, “Honey, Grandpa died. I went to go look for him because we were getting worried, and when I made it to the field over the road and six farms away, some rabbits found me and told me what had happened. He was picking clover flowers when he fell down, and didn’t get back up.”
Lola sobbed and sobbed. She, Mom and Dad sat in their den, crying together. Mom and Dad held her tight, saying “It’s okay, little baby.” Lola couldn’t understand. Grandpa was dead. It wasn’t okay.
Lola couldn’t believe that this was really happening. She wondered if maybe her mom and dad were lying and playing a mean trick. She cried hard, saying “no, no, no, no” over and over again. Eventually, with tears in her eyes, she fell asleep.
During the night, Lola woke up and thought that if she had never asked for clover flowers for her birthday, Grandpa would never have gone away. He died because he took that long journey. It was her fault; she was sure of it. Another idea came to Lola- maybe he was still out there, maybe he wasn’t really dead.
The sad little rabbit got up very quietly, trying to not rouse Mom or Dad. She crept out of the hole and looked at the field. A full moon lit up the sky. Surely, he was still out there. Just as Lola was about to hop away to find her grandpa, she felt a nip on her tail.
“Where do you think you’re going, my love?” said her mother.
“To find Grandpa. It’s my fault he went over there. I was the one who wanted clover flowers. If I hadn’t asked for clover flowers for my birthday, he would still be alive.” Tears came again. “And he would still be here, and I would still have him! It’s all my fault! He must hate me. You and Dad must hate me!” Lola broke into a loud fit of sobbing and buried her face in her mom’s soft fur.
“Lola, look at me” said her mom, holding Lola’s face in her paws. “I love you. Your dad loves you. Grandpa loved you very much, too, and knows that you loved him. It’s absolutely not your fault. Rabbits die when it’s their time to go, and it was Grandpa’s time. It would have happened soon, whether he went to find clover flowers or not. Trust me, Lola; it has nothing to do with you. Grandpa had a long and very happy life.” Lola’s mom pulled her tight and the two rabbits hugged and cried.
What Lola’s mom had said helped the little rabbit, but Lola was still very sad. She spent the next few days absentmindedly hopping around the field. She felt a lot of different things. Sometimes she felt okay, but every now and then, she would see something that reminded her of Grandpa, and Lola would cry all over again. Crying eventually gave way to anger, and Lola started to pounce back and forth, kicking leaves and twigs for no reason. She sent her friends away when they came over to play. She snapped at Mom and Dad whenever they said anything. Mom and Dad tried to talk to her about why she was so grouchy, but Lola was certain they wouldn’t understand. “You just don’t get it!” she would yell at them.
An older rabbit who lived on the other side of the oak tree was watching Lola. This rabbit was named Felicity, and she was the oldest rabbit in the warren. Felicity was a large rabbit, with deep gray, almost blue, fur. One of her eyes was a milky white and never blinked, and she spoke in a shaking, low voice. All of the rabbits in the warren knew that Felicity was a very wise old rabbit.
Lola saw Felicity watching her. The older rabbit sat under a bush, taking shelter from the sun. She motioned for Lola to come over to where she sat. Lola hopped over.
“I heard about your grandpa, Lola. I’m very sorry. You must be hurting.”
Lola nodded. Felicity tried to hug her, but Lola backed away. She wasn’t sure what Felicity wanted, and frankly, Lola was in a sour mood and didn’t feel like being hugged.
“How are you feeling?” Felicity asked, as she picked Lola a thick blade of grass to chew on.
Lola shrugged. “Tired, I guess,” she said. This was true, but it wasn’t the whole truth. Lola really wanted to say, “I’m angry, and I’m sad, and I’m lonely, and I feel empty inside, and I feel so confused. Why do I feel sad, and mad, and okay, and broken hearted, all at the same time?”
Felicity smiled. “Well, I grew up with your grandpa. He was a very smart rabbit, a very kind rabbit. He will be missed by all who knew him.”
Since her grandpa’s death, everyone had been telling Lola how wonderful her grandpa was, how nice he was, and how smart he was. Lola started to get angry. “Yeah?” she snapped, “If he was so smart, why did he decide to hop so far when he was so old?” She took a deep breath and yelled, “Why did he die, if he was so smart? Why did he leave me? I hate him!”
After the words had escaped her lips, Lola wished she could take them all back. She couldn’t believe she had said such a horrible thing.
“I know you didn’t mean that, Lola,” Felicity said, as she pulled Lola into a hug, “and I know that you are having a hard time right now. Everything you’re feeling is normal, and it’s okay. It’s okay to feel sad, to feel angry, even to feel happy when you look back at good memories. You’re grieving, Lola.”
Lola had never heard that word before. Grieving. It didn’t sound like it was much fun. It sounded hard. “How long will it last?” she asked quietly.
“For as long as it needs to. You’ve lost someone very important to you. Your heart needs time to heal. Some days will be very hard for you but other days will be better. Eventually all that will be left is your love for your grandpa and your special memories of him.”
“I miss him.” Lola started to cry again.
“I know,” said Felicity, hugging the little rabbit. “I miss him, too.”
As the days and weeks passed, it got a little easier for Lola. She still cried, but not as much. She began to play games with her friends again. At odd moments, memories of Grandpa would come flooding back and Lola would feel tears in her eyes. Sometimes she just wanted to be alone, to be by herself with her thoughts. Sometimes she wanted to be next to Mom or Dad all day long, never leaving their side. Sometimes she would remember a funny joke her grandpa had told and would laugh. And still sometimes she felt hurt and angry and she knew that was okay, too.
Months later, on a crisp fall morning, Lola woke up after having a wonderful dream about Grandpa. She dreamed that he had taken her on a trip collecting clover flowers and they had found clovers as tall as trees. In her dream, Grandpa had lifted up his long, long ears and reached the tops of the giant clover trees. He grinned at Lola and his eyes sparkled.
Thinking of the dream brought a smile to Lola’s face. Lola stretched, top to bottom and bottom to top. She hopped to the opening of her den, and sat back on her hind legs, ears up and nose twitching, looking for any sign of danger. Dewdrops glistened on the grass, while yellow and orange leaves rustled in the breeze. She smiled. “All’s clear over here, scout,” she said to herself, and then hugging herself tight, she said “I love you, Grandpa.”
As swirling leaves swept through the field, Lola was certain that, carried on the wind, she heard her grandpa’s sweet voice whisper, “I love you, too.”
The End