Once upon a time, far far away, where the trees are green and the skies are blue, there was a great big forest. And in the middle of the great big forest there was a great big mountain with snow on the top that shone like polished gold in the evening sun.And at the bottom of the great big mountain there was a great big lake, all deep and dark and mysterious. And in the middle of the great big lake there was a little island. And in the middle of the little island, hidden away amongst the trees where no-one could see, there was a little house. 

  This was the house where Boris the Frog lived. Boris the Frog known faaaaaaar and wide all around the lake, over the mountain and up the river, because Boris could do magic. He could make anything, anything at all, so long as it started with the letter “B”. He could make buckets and bowls and basins and bats and belts and baskets and bears and beds and baskets, did I say that already? Well anyway… the thing that Boris liked making most of all was boats and he had made himself an extra special boat with lots of his Boris magic in it, and he called hios boat “The Bountiful”. Every day Boris would take the Bountiful and go sailing over the lake or up the river to see what adventures he could find and what new friends he could meet. 

​

  One golden autumn day when the sun was smiling down on the world and the cold winter wind was still on holiday Boris was out on the lake in the Bountiful. He had been up to the village early that morning to post some letters and was just beginning to ease into the rest of the day when he realised he was getting a little peckish. Not hungry you understand it was no where near lunchtime yet, but well, you know, peckish. It was only the merest twinge of his tummy but it made him remember the tree. That beautiful kindly old apple tree he had seen the day before , it wasn’t far from the side of the lake. He remembered its curving branches and mossy old trunk, the way the leaves whispered secrets to the sky with every breath of the breeze and the sound of the blackbirds that lived amongst them. But most of all he remembered the small pinky red and green apples that hung from each of those branches. 

  Yes, a nice juicy apple would be just the thing to tide him over to lunch, excellent! With that thought Boris turned the Bountiful and headed for the far side of the lake. Very soon he had tied the boat to an old tree branch that leaned over the water and hopped over the side to swim ashore. When he got out of the water he quickly found the path he knew that led gently away from the lake and into a golden tunnel of sunlight and tree trunks. He had followed the path a little way when he suddenly stopped dead still on the path and listened. Somewhere, not too far away, he could hear a baby crying. Now normally Boris would be the first animal to hide whenever there was a hint of human in the air, but there was something about the sound that made him want to find out what was wrong and see if he could help.

​

  “I must be mad!” he thought as he turned off the path and began hopping between the trees towards the babies cries. Slowly the cries got louder until finally Boris hopped out of the trees and into a small clearing with a wood cutters log cabin in the middle of it. A thin trail of smoke was coming from the chimney and the cries were coming from the slightly open door. 

  Carefully Boris went over to the door and peered inside. He saw a small room with a stove, a scrubbed square table, 2 chairs, a bed and a crib. Sitting on one of the chairs looking grey and tired out sat the woodcutter. His wife was sitting in the other chair with the baby in her arms and also looking grey, tired and tearful. 

“I don’t know what to do “ sobbed the woman as she rocked back and forth on the chair.

“ she just won’t stop crying and I’m so tired”

“ I know, I know” comforted the woodcutter gently, he stood and took the baby from her. As soon as he did she began crying and threw her head down onto her hands. The wood cutter tenderly touched her head.

“ You rest a bit now love, I’ll take her outside for a while, maybe the fresh air will tire her out.”

His wife smiled gratefully up at him and Boris dived behind a broom as the woodcutter headed for the door. 

  The woodcutter came outside and sat on the top step of the porch.

“What am I going to do with you” he said to the baby on his lap “what am I going to do?” 

The baby looked up at him for a moment then screwed her face up and said “waah, waaaaah, waaaaaaah!!”. The woodcutter stood up and and went to the bottom of the steps putting his daughter over his shoulder and patting her back. She took another deep breath and said “WAAAAH, waaaaaaaaaah, WAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!” 

​

  “Goodness me” thought Boris “What on earth is wrong? I can see they are very poor but the hut is nice and warm and she looks (and sounds!) very well fed, I’m sure they are caring for her properly so why on earth is she crying so much?” Boris began thinking, something else he was very good at. He thought about what he had seen inside the hut, the tired parents, the stove, crib and bed and slowly a small idea began to come to him. 

“hmmm , I wonder” he thought. Before he could think anymore the woodcutter came back up the steps and went inside. He gently lowered his baby (who was still crying) into the crib and went over to his wife. 

“I’m so sorry darling I have to do some work so we can eat tonight, can you cope for a little while longer?” His wife smiled through her red, teary eyes.

“Of course I can” she sat up and wiped her face, “You go on, we’ll be fine” 

“Waaaah waaah WAAAAAAAAAH!!!” Said the baby. 

  Boris had seen (and heard!) enough, as quickly as he could he went back out of the clearing and into the forest. Boris had a plan, he went straight to the old apple tree he had been thinking of that morning and began scraping together lots of the fluffy moss that grew on its branches. Then he found some young pieces of ivy that were growing across the ground nearby. “Excellent string!” he thought to himself. Next he found a magnificent old oak tree and bowed low to it as he came near. “ May I have two of your acorns old father oak?” he asked the tree. As soon as he said the words a squirrel raced across the branches high above and 2 fresh acorns fell to the ground in front of him. “Thank you!” Said Boris and added the acorns to the other things that were now piled in front of him. 

​

  Now Boris began making a moss dolly. There was no magic in his work, not yet, just patience and care. He shaped the moss, making a head and wrapping it with ivy. Next he made the body and arms, and finally the legs. Then he put the whole thing together. With the two acorns for eyes the moss dolly looked like a shaggy and rather scary ivy troll. 

“Hmm “ thought Boris, “ I think I’d better finish it nearer the hut.” So carrying the dolly with him, he set off once more for the woodcutters cottage. 

  “Waaaaah, waaaah waaah!” 

“Getting closer!” thought Boris as he came to the edge of the clearing “ now to sort you out!” and he put the dolly down onto the ground. Very carefully he started stroking the bits of moss where sticking between the strands of ivy, and then the magic started. The bits of moss got thinner and thinner and the ivy seemed to melt away into the dolly. Small sparks began to shoot from Boris’s fingers and the whole thing got softer and rounder. The acorns flattened to become two brown buttons with strong stitches holding them in place and a strange shiny fog began to swirl around Boris and the dolly. Suddenly there was a terrific “BANG!” and a flash of light and there in front of Boris was a beautiful toy bear. It had brown fur that somehow looked green when the sun caught it, four soft paws the shape of ivy leaves and two button eyes the colour of acorns in the autumn. It was very soft and just floppy enough to be extra huggable. 

  Boris picked up the bear and carried it across to the open door of the woodcutters hut. Inside the baby had finally fallen asleep and her mother was gently lying her in the crib before turning to get out the things for the woodcutters tea ready for when he got home. 

“Waaah waaah waaaaaaah!” said the baby waking up in her crib. 

“Goodness me” thought Boris “ she must be waking up like that all the time!” As the woman went over to the crib and picked the baby up Boris pushed the bear into the house and hid to see what would happen. 

“Waaaaaaah, Waaaaah WAAAAAAAAAAH!”

“Hush little baby don’t you cry, daddies gonna be here bye and bye…” As the woman sang she glanced over to the door and saw the bear lying on the floor. She frowned and went over to it still crooning gently to her baby. She opened the door wide and looked out, of course there was nobody there so she came back inside and picked up the bear. As soon as she did the baby stopped crying. It was very strange, maybe she could feel the friendly old oak tree who had given his acorns, or maybe it was the smell of apples in the moss, or aybe it was the memory of the gentle autumn sun on the ivy. Or maybe it was all of them or none of them, but whatever it was, baby liked bear!

​

  Her mother put them both back into the crib and waited for the crying to start. But it didn’t! After a few minutes she went to check and there was baby sleeping peacefully cuddled up to the warm soft bear. She smiled, and suddenly she wasn’t a grey tired woman anymore. As the sun shone in throught the door she became a young mother glowing with joy and happiness. She walked back over to the door and looked out “Thank you!” she said to the world outside “whoever you are, thank you so much!” Then as Boris hopped unnoticed past her she closed the door, went to her chair and fell fast asleep next to her now very peaceful baby. As she sat down baby woke up but the bear was warm next to her and its fur was so soft and its button eyes were so kind that she didn’t cry at all, she just gurgled, smiled and went back to sleep. 

  Boris felt good. He made his way back to the Bountiful and untied her from the branch. As he sailed back across the lake to his island he suddenly remembered the apples. “ Oh well” he shrugged and grinned, they’d still be there tomorrow! 

  Once he got home Boris made himself some toast and honey and settled down in his armchair in front of the fire. Before too long feeling full and warm he fell fast asleep. Meanwhile on the far side of the lake a mother slept while her baby stirred, clutched a handful of lovely soft fur and quietly went back to sleep.