Angel Bear Gets His Wings

by Anne Lindsay Kerr
(Marlton, NJ, USA)

“I have to go to school today, Angel Bear,” said Margery. She climbed into the school bus and left Angel Bear behind.

What would he do without her? Angel Bear walked along the road to the mailbox.

He sat at the edge of the pond and skipped pebbles across it.

He sat on the porch in the rocking chair.

He felt very alone. It just wasn’t the same without Margery.

Angel Bear wondered if she thought of him while she was gone. He thought of her every minute. She was his only friend. He had never needed any other.

How could he find another friend?

One afternoon Angel bear walked along the edge of the pond with his head down.

He felt alone and sad. Ahead of him he saw a light green frog hopping near the pond.

Angel Bear shouted, “Stop! I want to play with you.” He ran toward the frog.

The frog saw that Angel Bear was much bigger than he was. So he jumped faster and higher, trying to get away.

Angel Bear chased him, but the frog was always a few jumps ahead of him. Just ahead he saw a big bush with many thorns along the stems.

He shouted, “Watch out for the bramble bush! Those thorns are very sharp…”

But he was too late.

The frog had leapt into the air and landed right in the middle of the brambles. He was stuck on a thorn and hung there, waving all his legs.

“Ow! Help me, I’m caught” yelled the frog as he struggled to get free.

He saw Angel Bear coming toward him, and yelled again, “Please don’t hurt me!”

“I’ll help you, little frog,” said Angel Bear. “I don’t want to hurt you. I want to be your friend.”

The courageous bear went into the brambles to save his new friend. He got caught on one of the prickly brambles, and tore off a patch of fur from his right side.

But he kept going and pulled the frog off the thorny bramble that held him kicking in the air.

“Thank you, thank you,” said the frog. “I don’t have any family or friends. Do you really want to be my friend?”

“Oh yes. My name is Angel Bear. What is your name?”

“My name is Joe,” said the frog. “Do you live near here?”

“Yes, I live in that little house near the pond.”

Just then Angel Bear heard the school bus stop at the bottom of the lane.

“My friend Margery is home from school now,” he said. “Let’s go see her.”

The bear walked back to the cozy house where he lived with Margery. Joe perched on his shoulder. Angel Bear introduced his new friend.

Then Margery saw how Angel Bear’s fur had been torn off his right side. Angel Bear and Joe told how it had happened.

Margery patched him up with a piece of red plaid fabric. Then she made a couple of red plaid fabric bandages for Joe’s legs where they had been stuck with thorns.

“Angel Bear, you really are an angel for rescuing Joe,” she said. “I’ll make angel wings for you to wear.” And she did.

The friendly bear with the angel wings and the lively frog played every day in the woods and by the pond. When Margery was home, they all played together.

But they never went near the bramble bushes again.

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Sep 04, 2010
by: Tina

A really delightful story. The characters are very real and you covered important issues like being a good friend, taking care of the things you love etc. so deftly. I, too, could imagine painting the illustrations.

Sep 03, 2010
I loved it!!!
by: sara dean

Fantastic job! I could just imagine the illustrations to go with your story while I was reading it! Keep up the great work!

Sep 03, 2010
Beautiful Story
by: J.L.Conlon

I love the dynamic between a child and their toys, which are very real to them. (I know mine was). I always wondered (as a child and to this day) what happens to our special things when were not around. This is a beautiful tale, especially one to be read aloud. Well done!

Aug 30, 2010
Sweet - Sweet story
by: Don Nelson

Hi Anne,

This is such a nice gentle story. Well done. Great title also.
I liked the visual images I got when reading this.

I hope you continue to rework it and refine it. Short stories are among the hardest things to write well. Each word must propel the story forward. Concise writing is also a critical element.

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