autumn

This story is called Little Pumpkin’s Thanksgiving by Madge A. Bingham. This is a LibraryCall adaptation and recording. It was the night before Thanksgiving. Big Pumpkin, Medium Pumpkin, and Little Pumpkin were waiting on their vines in Peter Piper’s pumpkin patch. They were fully ripe, so they knew their time in the garden must come to an end soon. “I’m worried,” Little Pumpkin said to his friends. “I overheard Peter say he’s planning to pick us tomorrow.” “There’s no need to be afraid,” said Big Pumpkin. “We will make delicious pies for someone’s Thanksgiving dinner.

Este cuento se llama El pequeño manzano escrito por Jasmine Stone Van Dresser. Esta es una adaptación y grabación de LibraryCall. En un hermoso huerto lleno de árboles cargados de brillantes manzanas redondas, un pequeño manzano suspiró. A diferencia de los otros árboles, sus manzanas permanecieron pequeñas, verdes y duras. "Todavía soy un árbol joven. Quizás mis manzanas madurarán más lentamente", pensó. "Debo ser paciente.

This story is called The Witch, written and recorded by LibraryCall. In a colorful neighborhood, there was a group of friends that spent almost all their time together. They loved spending their days at the park, gathering and telling stories on the playground. Some of them would skateboard, others would swing on the swing set. It was October, the most exciting month of the year.

This story is called The Little Apple Tree by Jasmine Stone Van Dresser. This is a LibraryCall adaptation and recording. In a thriving apple orchard full of trees heavy with ripening fruit, a little apple tree sighed. Her apples remained small, green, and hard. She couldn’t help but compare herself to the apple trees around her; their fruit was already so round and red. "Since these are my first apples, perhaps they will ripen more slowly," she thought. "I must be patient.

The Story of the Yellow Flowers by Frances Weld Danielson. This is a LibraryCall adaptation and recording. Once there were a great many weeds in a field. No one appreciated the weeds and they felt as though they had no place in the world. The cows would not eat them, the children would not pick them, and even the bugs did not seem to like them. “I don’t see what we’re here for,” said one of the weeds.