Coloring page story
Lily’s voice was as soft as a falling snowflake. At Whispering Pines Tree Farm, surrounded by the happy shouts of other children, her voice felt even smaller.
"Which one, sweet pea?" her dad asked, his breath making a happy puff in the cold air.
Lily just pointed a mitten-covered finger vaguely toward a forest of tall, proud fir trees. Inside, her heart wanted to shout, "The little one! The one with the funny bent branch!" but the words got stuck somewhere in her throat. She felt a frustrating tear prickle her eye. Why couldn't she be loud like the other kids?
She wandered away, her boots making soft scrunch, scrunch, scrunch sounds in the snow. She stopped by the crooked little tree she admired. It was barely taller than she was. A tiny grey squirrel with a very busy tail sat on its bent branch, nibbling a pinecone. Chit-chit-chatter!
The squirrel looked at Lily with its bright, black eyes. Lily looked back. She didn't need a loud voice for a squirrel. She pointed a finger at the tree. "I think you're the best," she whispered. The squirrel twitched its nose as if to agree.
Suddenly, an idea sparked. She ran back to her parents, tugging on her mom's coat. She didn't speak. Instead, she put her hands on her hips, puffed out her chest, and started hopping just like the squirrel. Then she pointed back toward the little tree and pretended to nibble a pinecone.
Her dad chuckled. "Are you a squirrel, Lily?"
Lily nodded furiously, her cheeks rosy with excitement. She took their hands and led them, hopping all the way, back to the little crooked fir. The squirrel was still there, a perfect living ornament.
"Oh," her mom said, her voice full of warmth. "I see. This one."
Lily beamed, her smile bigger and brighter than any words. That night, the littlest fir stood in their living room, its bent branch perfect for holding the heaviest, sparkliest star. Lily learned that sometimes, you don't need a loud voice to show everyone what's in your heart.