The Christmas Robin

The little robin redbreast had a good start in life, being born into a warm nest at the top of a tree in the big park. His parents weren't rich by any means but they foraged well and provided the robin and his brothers and sisters with enough food to help them grow big and strong - for a robin. When he was young he always admired the bright red breasts of his parents and their beautiful singing voices. He hoped he'd grow up just like them. And he did.

When he was old enough, he flew off one day to find his own place to live and start living independently. On his travels he found a small woodland in one part of the park and found the perfect tree, an old, large holly tree with lots of places for a snug nest and he chose a place on a high bough that would be protected from the winter winds and had a good view. So he moved in.

He got to know his neighbours and happily chatted to them about the world of the park, things he saw as he flew over the park and the strange world beyond the expanse of green that was his home. He got to know the big crows at the best feeding ground on the edge of his little woods and started chatting to them, despite them being a bit scary and very big. He made friends with a young fox cub but always made sure he sat on a branch high up, just in case. And he got to know the squirrel families in the surrounding trees - they were always busy but liked to pass the time of day with the little robin who always had interesting tales to tell.

The summer passed and the autumn arrived, turning the leaves on the trees golden before they floated to the ground in great drifts of colour. But the holly kept it's strong green leaves that protected the robin's nest from the cold winds and the rain. He was a sensible robin and had chosen his home wisely.

The cold frosts started and the robin took out an old muffler his mother had made for him and he wound it round his neck and instantly felt warmer. One day, the snow came. The robin had never seen snow before but instinctively knew what it was and he flew to the edge of his woods to see the green turn to white as the snow lay everywhere. He was astonished and delighted and flew down to the ground to make footprints in the snow, dancing around and singing at the top of his voice in joy and wonder.

As the days wore on and the cold deepened, the days grew shorter and the frost and snow came more often and the robin liked to look at the night sky and count the stars. The ground grew harder and there was less food but the robin knew there would be left-overs at the small cafe in he middle of the park. He landed on the edge of a table with an old man with a beard - the robin knew that old people usually gave him some scraps to eat. Especially if they had old dogs resting their chin on their knees, like this one. The old man was writing on the hard paper that humans gave to each other for some reason. When he finished the little robin hopped closer and saw that on the front was a portrait of his Dad! Tweep, he said, and flew off to find his Dad to tell him he was famous.

One day the robin woke from an afternoon nap to the sound of bells from the big tower at the end of the park. They were very tuneful and the robin sang along. He decided to visit the big tower to see what kind of strange creature was making the beautiful sound and he flew to the edge of the wood and then onward, across the park. He reached the tower and set down on an open window and started singing along to the glorious, uplifting sound, perfectly matching the sound of the bells and then moving into harmonies. Eventually the bells stopped but the robin kept singing. He became aware of a small group of humans looking up at him and he stopped singing to look at them. Then they started clapping. How strange, the robin thought. He was a polite robin so he bowed in thanks and then flew off, back to his warm home and a good night's sleep.

The next morning he was up early to open his present that had appeared miraculously and to see the new covering of snow. He flew to the lake to sit on a park bench to have a chat to his friend, Dad Goose. Dad knew the humans better than the robin and he wanted to find out what the humans had been doing when they put their hands together to make a noise. Dad was at least five years old and so very old and wise indeed and explained to the robin that what he'd seen was clapping and the humans liked his singing. The robin's cheeks flushed as red as his breast at the compliment. As the sky grew brighter on the chilly morning they heard the sound of the bells again, welcoming the new day, and the robin said goodbye to Dad Goose and flew off to the big tower to sing along once more.

The robin flew into the tower and spiralled down, lower, so he could bask in the sound of the bells and perched on the lintel above one of the doors at the bottom of the tower and began to sing. The bells rang out to welcome in Christmas Day and one by one the humans turned to watch the robin as he sang. One of the humans pushed a metal thing closer to the little robin and suddenly he heard himself bigly, singing all over the place very loudly.

He didn't know what was going on but took a deep breath and started singing even louder as the humans watched him. Everyone who heard the bells, the humans and the creatures on the big green, looked up and smiled, wondering at the new sounds the bells were making, not realising it was the little robin singing his heart out. The humans clapped him again and slowly left the bottom of the tower, taking the metal thing with them. Then the robin saw the little plate of scraps left on the doorstep and he flew down to feast on the left-overs. That's when he saw the old man from the cafe again, smiling at him, and then the old man left as well so the robin could enjoy his feast.

The robin flew back to his home in the holly tree and got cosy in his nest, patting his full tum from his feast. What a strange day, he thought, but I liked singing along to the bells, maybe I'll go there again. He sat on a snowy bough and looked up at the sky to see all the stars twinkling and seeming merry and he started singing for the stars. One day, he thought, I'll fly up there and visit the stars and sing for them. But now it's time for bed, and he hopped back into his nest, snuggled down and was soon asleep. And the stars smiled and twinkled.