Kids & Fables

by Scribe Leaf Library · 1 min read · 0 views

Everyone assumed Ollie the owl loved the dark, being an owl, and Ollie never corrected them, because admitting an owl who is afraid of the dark felt like admitting a fish afraid of water. He flew every night anyway, wings trembling slightly at the edges, telling no one. It was the small mouse, Fen, who finally noticed and asked him plainly why an owl's eyes looked so wide with worry every dusk. "I don't love the dark," Ollie admitted. "I just fly through it because that's when I'm needed." Fen thought about this for a while. "Maybe that's braver than loving it," she said. "Loving something easy isn't brave. Doing the thing you're scared of, every single night, just because it needs doing — that's the actual brave part." Ollie had never thought of it that way. He still isn't fond of the dark. But he flies a little steadier now, knowing the trembling was never the same thing as failing.