The Fast River and the Waiting Pad
On a bright, sunny day, Max sat by the river with Fargo the frog. Fargo loved his big, soft lily pad. He said, "This is my home." Splash! A strong current pushed the lily pad away. It spun and slid down the rushing water. "Oh no!" Fargo said. He felt worried. "My home is going away!" Max stood up. "We can follow it," Max said. "Stay close." They hurried along the bank. The river went whoosh and gurgle. The lily pad bobbed past smooth rocks and bendy reeds. Fargo felt scared. Max felt steady. "We will find a safe place to stop it," Max said. They kept going, step by step, eyes on the drifting pad.
The river curved into a quiet pool where the rushing water slowed, and the drifting lily pad bumped the edge before beginning to rest. “Now,” Max said, watching closely. Fargo hopped from stone to stone—hop, hop, hop—until he reached the pad and held on tight. Max grabbed a long, sturdy stick and carefully pulled the pad closer: scrape, slide, stop. Fargo climbed onto his lily pad, his heart lifting as he settled in. “My home is back,” he said, smiling. Max smiled too. “When the river is fast, we go slow and think.” They sat together in the warm sun while the river sang a soft, gentle song. Calm and safe, they rested for a while, and soon they guided the lily pad to a quiet spot near the shore, where it could stay.
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