Winter

“The Lantern in Clara Thimblewick’s Window”

/ jrmilson / Leave a comment

A Short Christmastime Story from Little Red Bear’s World

INTRODUCTION —

There is a certain way winter settles over Honey Hill — not with fanfare, but with a soft hush, as though the whole forest is catching its breath before Christmas.

On mornings such as this, Little Red Bear likes to take an early stroll, merely to wander through the quiet and listen to what his heart might be trying to tell him before the day unfolds. And every now and then, something small and unexpected offers a gentle reminder of the kindness still humming through the hollers.

This little story is one of those moments — a simple winter vignette featuring a neighbour you’ll soon be seeing more of in our Hearth & Holler Gazette.

“The Lantern in Clara Thimblewick’s Window”

by James Milson

A soft snowfall had drifted through Honey Hill in the night, leaving the world brushed in white. The morning felt quieter than usual — the sort of quiet that invites you to walk slowly and listen. Little Red Bear bundled up for his stroll and stepped outside, his breath rising faintly in the frosty air.

As he came round the bend near the edge of town, a warm glow caught his eye. There, in the window of Clara Thimblewick’s cottage, a lantern flickered against the early dawn.

It surprised him. Clara was an early riser, yes, but the lantern wasn’t usually lit so long after the sun had pushed up over the ridge. Little Red Bear paused a moment, then decided to stop in — just to make sure everything was all right. Kindness, after all, begins with paying attention.

Clara opened the door before he could even knock fully.
“Well now, Red,” she said, her smile warming the morning even more than the lantern’s glow, “aren’t you a sight of winter cheer.”

“I saw your lamp burning,” Little Red Bear replied, “and thought I’d better check on you to make sure everything is okay.”

“Oh, that,” she said, waving a gentle hand. “Every year when the days get short, I keep a lantern in the window. A bit of welcoming light can make a world of difference for someone lost and wandering in the cold.”

They chatted for a few minutes — nothing urgent, nothing dramatic — just neighbourly warmth shared over the doorway. Before Little Red Bear turned to leave, Clara reached for a neatly folded scarf from a basket near the stove.

“Take this along,” she said, reaching up and slipping it over his shoulders before he could protest. “I made extra this year. Winter is too long a season not to keep someone else warm when we can. You really should dress warmer when you are out in this cold, Red.”

Little Red Bear thanked her — though he insisted he already had a perfectly good scarf — and set off down the snowy path again, the new one settling warmly around his shoulders as he walked.

Halfway home, Little Red Bear paused beside an old fencepost overlooking the lower meadow. The wind, cold and steady now, was picking up across the open stretch. Little Red Bear thought about Clara’s lantern burning in the window, and how she had lit it not for herself, but for anyone else who might need to feel its glow.

Carefully removing the scarf from around his neck, Little Red Bear tied it gently around the fencepost, letting its soft red wool flap a little in the breeze. Maybe someone would come along who needed it more than he did, he thought. Perhaps a traveller, or a creature searching for a warmer night to shelter from the cold.

Kindness, he remembered, has a way of echoing. And Clara would like that, he figured.

Little Red Bear took one last look at the splash of red flapping in the breeze against the snowy field, and then headed home, feeling even a little warmer now.

Closing Reflection — 

It’s not always the grand gestures that make a difference, is it? More often than not, it’s the small, everyday kindnesses — a lantern in the window, a warm word at the door, a scarf left for the next passerby — that help us feel less alone in the world. As we move nearer to Christmas, may we each find simple ways to brighten the path for someone else. Sometimes that’s all the season asks of us. And we can certainly do that for someone, can’t we?

Little Red Bear and I hope Clara’s lantern brought a touch of light to your day, and that a bit of warmth follows you along your own winter path. From our little corner of Honey Hill to yours, Little Red Bear and I wish you warmth, kindness, and a peaceful path as Christmas draws near. Thanks for settin’ a spell with us today.

— Jim (and Red!)

You’ll be seeing more of Clara Thimblewick soon — she has a gentle way of adding light to the hollers, and we’re excited to feature her in an upcoming Hearth & Holler Gazette story next week.

And if you’re wandering back through Honey Hill next week, Little Red Bear and I hope you’ll join us again on Tuesday, December 16th. We’ve got a special birthday post waiting — and we’d sure love to share it with you.

“Christmas Lives On Honey Hill”

/ jrmilson / Leave a comment

A Christmastime Poem from Honey Hill Country

There’s something about this time of year, isn’t there? When the evenings grow still, the air turns crisp, and the world seems to lean just a little closer to the heart. Christmas has a way of stirring memories long tucked away — quiet moments, warm gatherings, and the gentle light of home.

As we move through December together, I thought I’d share a little holiday verse from Honey Hill Country — a simple reminder that Christmas isn’t found in the rush or the noise, but in the places and people who help us feel rooted. Perhaps you’ve known that feeling, too?

Please enjoy this Christmastime moment from Little Red Bear’s world.

“Christmas Lives On Honey Hill”

The moonlight drifts through the walnut trees,
Soft silver on Honey Hill,
And something familiar keeps whispering there
In the quiet, deep, and still.
Down in the towns the lamplights glow,
And wagons roll through the square —
But my heart keeps turning to holler paths
And to all my friends who gather there.
For Christmas lives in these winding woods,
Where the creek runs slow and mild,
And stories rise like chimney smoke
From every home-bound child.
I’ve walked through cities dressed in lights,
And felt the winter’s bite —
But nothing warms a wanderer’s heart
Like a hearth fire burning bright.
So, I’m heading back through the frosted pines,
Where the evenings smell of tea,
Where Little Red Bear keeps an extra chair
At the table — just for me.
Where neighbors stray in two by two,
Old tales are passed around,
And laughter spills like fiddle tunes
Across the snowy ground.
Where the young and old lean shoulder-close
As the carols rise and fall,
The golden glow of candle lanterns
Shining hope for one and all.
And I’ll remember those gone on ahead,
Their love still here to guide me —
For love still lingers in these hills,
And guides my spirit home.
Yes — Christmas lives on Honey Hill,
In every heart and hand.
A place where the season’s truest gifts
Are easy to understand.
So let the moonlight drift through the walnut trees —
It knows where I long to be —
Back among friends in the quiet holler,
Where Christmas comes gentle and free.

Thank you for sharing a few quiet December moments with me today. Isn’t it comforting how a simple poem can call up warm memories when we least expect it? Wherever you may be this season, I hope a little Honey Hill spirit finds its way to your home and heart.

— Jim  (and Red!)

If this poem brought a little warmth or comfort your way, I’d be honored if you shared it with someone who might need the same.

And this Saturday, I will be sharing a brand-new Little Red Bear Christmas vignette — “The Lantern in Clara Thimblewick’s Window.” It is a gentle story of light, kindness, and the spirit of the season. I hope you’ll drop in and join us for it.

Pen-and-ink illustrations created with the assistance of AI and lovingly styled for Little Red Bear Land.

Accepting Winter’s Welcome

/ jrmilson / Leave a comment

There is a moment every year when Autumn quietly hands the reins to Winter. No trumpets, no grand announcement, just that subtle shift you feel more than see. The air turns sharper on your cheeks, the last stubborn leaves skitter across the yard, and you suddenly notice that your favourite jacket has become a necessity instead of a choice.

Have you felt that little turn of the season tugging at your sleeve lately?

Winter has a reputation, of course — cold winds, long nights, and frosty car windows that need scraping when you’re already running late. But there is another side to it, a gentler, kinder Winter that comes to the door not as a hardship, but as a welcome guest. That’s the Winter I like to greet each year, and maybe you do, too.

It’s there in the simple things.

In the warmth of a mug of hot cocoa cupped in cold hands after coming back inside from raking the last of the leaves or filling the bird feeders. In snow boots by the door and a little trail of dried leaves that somehow hitchhiked in with you. In the quiet satisfaction of tugging off your gloves, your fingers tingling back to life as the house wraps around you like a familiar quilt.

Outside, if you listen, you can almost hear Winter humming to itself. Wood smoke lingers on the air, drifting from chimneys as neighbours coax old stoves and fireplaces back into service. Maybe you have taken that early morning walk with the dog — bundled up, breath frosting into little clouds — watching thin ribbons of wood smoke curl lazily into the pale sky. The streets seem softer, somehow, as if the whole world is padding around in thick socks, speaking in a whisper.

And then, as it always does this time of year, Winter begins to guide us indoors.
The cold stays on the other side of the windowpane, and the house takes on that warm, lived-in feeling we somehow forget until the season reminds us.

Inside, the kitchen becomes its own small refuge, full of the little rituals Winter invites back into our lives. There is a certain relaxation — a kind of peace of mind — that comes from kneading bread. The steady, rhythmic stretching and folding, the gentle push and turn. It all feels like something our hands were meant to remember. After a few minutes, the world quiets down a little. The dough softens, your thoughts soften with it, and the simple act of rounding and working it smooth becomes its own kind of comfort.

I don’t bake much bread in the summertime anymore. It’s too hot to turn on the oven most days. But come Winter — well, Winter is prime time for homemade bread. The house is grateful for the extra warmth, and there are few scents that say “home” quite as quickly or as surely as the smell of a fresh loaf baking in the oven.

That’s the heart of Winter, isn’t it? A season that encourages us to gently ease back into ourselves.

Inside, the house starts to change its clothes. Sunlight throws longer shadows across the floor in the late afternoon. A favourite throw blanket migrates from the back of a chair to a permanent spot within easy reach of “your” corner of the sofa. Perhaps a crockpot on the counter simmers a stew, or a pan of something comforting bubbles away in the oven.

And oh, that smell — not just something baking, but something becoming home.

Winter is really good at that, isn’t it — inviting us to slow down, look back, and look around? To breathe in, and savour the moment.

Maybe, in the warmer months, we rush from one thing to another, mowing lawns and trimming hedges, running errands under a hot sun. But Winter has a way of gently closing a few doors and whispering, “Stay in tonight.”

The early darkness nudges us to pull out the puzzle we’ve been meaning to start, to open that book waiting patiently on the nightstand, or to finally write a letter — yes, a real one on paper — to someone we’ve been thinking about for far too long.

In the soft glow of a table lamp, the wind a muffled moan against the windows, home feels a little more like a nest. We snuggle under comforters and warm blankets on chilly evenings, maybe with a crackling fire or the soft hum of a heater doing its best. A simple cup of tea or cocoa becomes a small ceremony. A favourite sweater feels like a dear old friend.

These are not grand occasions, yet they are the quiet stitches that hold a season together. That hold us together.

Of course, Winter isn’t always easy, is it? There can be loneliness tucked in with the long nights and worries that don’t simply vanish with the first snowflake. Sometimes the world outside our front doors feels a little too loud, a little too uncertain. All the more reason, I think, to be intentional about creating small islands of warmth and welcome wherever we can.

We may not be able to fix everything “out there,” but we can light a candle on the kitchen table. We can stir a pot of soup and share a bowl with a neighbour. We can check on someone who lives alone. We can watch the birds at the feeder for a few extra minutes and feel our shoulders relax just a little.

Maybe a Winter Welcome isn’t a big event at all. Maybe it’s simply an attitude — a quiet decision to meet the cold and the dark with warmth and light. To greet this season not with dread, but with a gentle sort of hospitality. To say, in our own way —
“Come in, Winter. Wipe your feet and sit a spell. Let’s make the best of things together, shall we?”

So as the days grow shorter and the nights draw round your house like a soft wool blanket, I hope you will find your own ways to welcome Winter this year. Light a lamp a little earlier. Put on the kettle. Bake that loaf of bread, even if it’s from a mix. Pull a favourite story off the shelf. Reach out to someone who might need a kind word.

After all, Winter doesn’t just bring cold winds and bare branches. It brings an invitation — to slow down, to draw closer, to remember what truly warms us.

And that’s a Winter Welcome worth accepting, don’t you think?

What little rituals help you welcome Winter each year? I’d love to hear how you make the season warm and comforting where you are.

And come Thursday, December 11th, I hope you’ll join me again for something special — a fresh holiday poem titled “Christmas Lives on Honey Hill,” capturing the spirit of Christmas as it wanders through our woods, hollers, and warm kitchen windows.

Pen-and-ink illustrations created with the assistance of AI and lovingly styled for Little Red Bear Land.

 

A Cozy Basket of Free Christmas Stories & Features for You

/ jrmilson / Leave a comment

Heartwarming Holiday Tales, Seasonal Features, and Festive Reads to Enjoy This December

The Christmas season has arrived again — lights twinkling in windows, cookie tins appearing on counters, and December settling over everything like a soft quilt. And after easing my way back into writing the other day, it felt like the right moment to open the doors wide and share something a little cheerful, a little familiar, and maybe even a little fun.

So today, I’ve gathered together a warm basketful of past Christmas and Holiday Features from the Writing Pages — stories, poems, memories, and old-time favorites all in one easy place. Think of it as a “help yourself” buffet of seasonal comfort. No need to dress up. Pajamas are fully acceptable.

Little Red Bear wandered in while I was putting this together, just to see what all the fuss was about. When he realized I was collecting Christmas pieces for folks to enjoy, he gave me a gentle poke and said, “Now, don’t go forgettin’ my Happy Christmas Left/Right Gift Exchange Game. Folks always seem to have a good time with that one.”

He’s right — it’s one of the most popular little treasures we’ve ever shared, so it’s tucked safely into the basket for you. Just be ready for a bit of silliness… and maybe a few giggles as the game bounces left and right and back again.

So pour a cup of something warm, find a comfy chair, and settle in. Whether you’re looking for a smile, a bit of nostalgia, or something to share with little ones, I hope this collection adds a touch of brightness to your day.

And if a stray cookie or two goes missing while you’re reading… well, Red has been known to wander.

 

 

Christmas Holiday Writing Features & Gallery Summary Page
“Love’s Candle in the Night Poem”
“The General Store Christmas Poem”
“Fireside Questions for Santa Poem”
“Blue House on the Hill” — a Christmas Poem
“What To Do On A Christmas Week Night?” — A Christmas Poem
“Christmas Thru The Window Glass” — A Nostalgic Look Back at Christmases of My Childhood
“Christmases Of My Childhood” by the Award-winning Author Kathleen Creighton
“Christmas — It’s in the Singing Of A Street Corner Choir . . .”  Featuring The Muppets
“Haddon Sundblom, Coca-Cola, and Santa Claus” — About How the Well-known Modern Image of Santa Claus Came To Be
“Christmas Trains and Memories Beneath the Tree”
“That’s What Christmas Is All About, Charlie Brown . . . .”
“Yes, Virginia, There Is A Santa Claus . . . . . . And So Much More!”
“Deciphering Old-fashioned Terms In Favorite Christmas Carol Lyrics”
“Susie’s Bear” — a Holiday Season Short Story
“Little Red Bear’s “Christmas & Holiday Season” Coloring Pages for All Ages”
“Pine Holler Christmas” — a short story for the holiday season featuring Little Red Bear and his friends, available on Amazon for Kindle and eReaders

Little Red Bear asked me very politely—well, as politely as a bear hopped up on Christmas excitement can manage—to be sure this favorite made it into the basket. His Happy Christmas Left/Right Gift Exchange Game is one of the most-visited features on the Pages every year, and if you’re looking for a good laugh with family or friends, it’s ready and waiting.

Just a fair warning from seasoned players — little ones have been known to insist on reshuffling the gifts and playing again… and again… and again. Holiday joy comes in many forms, doesn’t it?

“Little Red Bear’s ‘Happy Christmas Left/Right Gift Exchange Game” 

Perfect for Family Gatherings, Classrooms, Holiday Parties, and Christmas Eve Fun — enjoy the laughter, the chaos, and the magic!

Tap Here to Download the FREE “Little Red Bear’s Happy Christmas LEFT/RIGHT Gift Exchange Game” (PDF)

 

 

Little Red Bear asked me to remind you that good stories—much like good cookies—are always better when shared. He even suggested I hide a cookie or two inside this post to make things more interesting, but I told him we’d save that mischief for another day.

Still, if one of these Christmas features brings you a smile, a chuckle, or a warm memory, I hope you’ll pass it along to someone who might enjoy a little seasonal cheer. A simple story shared at just the right moment can be a small kindness — and goodness knows the world can always use more of those, can’t it?

Thank you for making this little corner of the world such a welcoming and friendly place. Your visits, your warmth, and your company here on the Writing Pages mean more to me than I can say.

From both Red and me, warmest wishes for a holiday season filled with joy, peace, and the gentle magic that seems to hover in the air this time of year.

— Jim  (and Red!)

And if you’d like to stop back by on Tuesday, I’ll have another warm December visit waiting for you. A nice way to continue the season together, don’t you think?

x

 

Stepping Back Into the Light of December

/ jrmilson / 2 Comments

A Warm Return, A Fresh Season, and a Snow-Dusted Hello from the Writing Pages

Hello, Friends — I’m back.

It feels good to say that again. And it feels even better to step back onto the porch here on the Writing Pages, pull up a chair, and visit with you once more.

I’ve been away for a while — partly because the past year handed me more than the usual share of medical miles to walk. One thing after another kept showing up on the calendar, and I found myself spending far more time in surgeries and waiting rooms than at my writing desk. It took a good long while to heal and regain my footing, but I’m grateful to say the energy has been returning, piece by piece. And that is a good feeling, isn’t it?

We had our first big snowfall here over the past weekend. The first snowfall always brings back a memory from when I was very small, walking between my father and uncle on a winter’s day. The ground ahead looked perfectly flat — or so I thought — until I stepped confidently forward and disappeared straight down into a hidden ditch, neck-deep in snow. One moment I was strolling along, the next I was swallowed by winter. My father and uncle, each on the high side of the drift, reached down, grabbed an arm apiece, and popped me back up like a cork.

Life still does that now and then — letting you tumble into a drift when you least expect it, doesn’t it? And then, just when you need it most, it seems to offer a couple of steady hands to lift you back out again. This little return of mine feels something like that — a gentle rescue from life’s snowbank and a renewed chance to step forward once more.

To those who have checked in, left kind notes, or simply stayed subscribed and waiting — thank you. Your quiet encouragement means more than you know. And to new readers just finding your way here, welcome. There’s always room for one more at the table. It feels nice to gather again, doesn’t it?

I’ve always loved this time of year. How about you? Something about early December brings a gentle hush to things — a peaceful feeling that settles in like the first snow on the evergreens. Lights go up in windows. Neighbors wave more often. Even the shortest days seem to glow with their own kind of soft magic. It feels like the right moment to return.

And return we will, with a full month of stories, poems, reflections, seasonal pieces, and cozy visits from Honey Hill Country. And for those new to our pages here, Honey Hill is where my lead story character (and friend in my head) Little Red Bear lives. Red and his friends have plenty to share, and I’m delighted to be writing again with a clearer head and a more grateful heart.

We’ll also be building toward something special — the upcoming “Hearth & Holler Gazette,” arriving a little later in January. It’s been a joy to create, along with no small bit of work, and I look forward to offering you a few small peeks as we move closer to launch. Exciting to think about, isn’t it?

Before we dive into all of that, I hope you’ll stop back by this Saturday — I’ll be sharing a warm basketful of Free Christmas and Holiday Season Features from the archives, gathered together for easy holiday reading and revisiting old favorites. A nice way to start the season, don’t you think?

For now, I simply wanted to open the door again, turn on the porch light, and say how glad I am to be back. I’ve missed this place — and more importantly, I’ve missed you.

Here’s to December, to new stories ahead, and to finding comfort, hope, and good company as the year winds down. I’m looking forward to walking through the season with you.

Thank you for being here — it means the world.

— Jim (and Red!)

If you haven’t visited Little Red Bear’s world yet, this might be a nice time to wander in for a spell — you’ll find his books filled with warmth, kindness, and a little old-time charm. Sounds inviting, doesn’t it?

Pen-and-ink illustrations created with the assistance of AI and lovingly styled for Little Red Bear Land.

 

Small Little Unexpected Acts of Kindness (And a Teabag Squeezer Thingy)

/ jrmilson / 6 Comments

Winter paid us a visit with 7″ of snow over the past few days here outside of St. Louis.  Had I known the storm would take so long in passing I would have installed a ‘Take-A-Number’ system at the bird feeders. What crowds we have had!  I trudged out to top off each feeder at sunset each evening to be ready for the next morning’s rush.

In a recently-moved-into new apartment, I now live on the third floor overlooking my feeders at ground level, below. At one point late in the afternoon one day, two purple finches perched on my windowsill and began tapping on my window. I wasn’t sure if they had sought me out to express their gratitude for the feeders or to possibly convey the message — “Hey Jim, we need the Safflower Seeds refilled again. Right now!”

As it turned out, the little finches were right about the Safflower Seeds. Thru the combined efforts of Purple Finches, House Finches, Cardinals,  Juncos, Titmice, Chickadees, Nuthatches, Assorted Woodpeckers, and more, they had emptied the entire Safflower Feeder in one day! Surrounding trees were filled with chattering birds waiting their turn at the feeder. Safflower Seeds are an excellent choice for feeding the wild birds in winter because so many different backyard birds love these seeds, while squirrels, at least right here, do not bother with them at all.

Before the “Snowpocalypse” began, a friend unexpectedly stopped by simply to deliver a gift, totally out of the blue. Knowing that I am an inveterate tea drinker, she dropped off a Stainless Steel Tea Bag Squeezer. A simple little thing made for squeezing out the last drops of brewed tea from a teabag (or in my case and how I will use it since “squeezing out the last few drops” is not really the best thing to do) for reaching in and grabbing those bothersome teabags that come with no strings attached.

(Yes, I am looking at you, Celestial Seasonings. I love your herbal teas and truly appreciate and respect your environmental protection stance, eschewing the paper or foil bag covers and tags used by so many other companies as you do, but is a thin little string attached to pull the bags out with really too much to ask?)

A life-long tea drinker and frequent sufferer of scalded fingers from reaching into hot teacups of boiling liquid to retrieve the bags, I was not aware that such a clever device even existed, and immediately wondered why in the world I hadn’t invented one years ago myself.

Later, I researched the little squeezer on Amazon and found one listed for only $2.67. I tend to think that my friend more than likely just picked it up on a recent visit to the Dollar Store, though.

(As an aside — are things still really a dollar at the Dollar Store, or more costly now perhaps with the pandemic? I have heard rumors about things that were previously a dollar not necessarily being only a dollar any longer. If so, should they change the name to “Slightly-Or-Somewhat-More-Than-A-Dollar Store,” perhaps? That would make for a much larger sign in front though, wouldn’t it?)

But the Tea Bag Squeezer is not really the most important thing here, and to be honest, unless rushed I have usually used a spoon to fetch out hot teabags over the years, having learned to avoid scalded fingers over time. So I may have exaggerated a bit about the scalded fingers, above. (But c’mon — Celestial Seasonings — really, a simple little string, no tags attached. Think of all those dedicated tea sippers who are not yet blessed with a nifty little teabag grabber. Please?)

As they say, it is really not the gift but the thought that counts. I was blown away by the unexpected gift, regardless of what it may have been or not.

Being unexpected as it was, associated with no predictable holiday or event, made being remembered and someone going out of their way to deliver such a simple little thing even that more special. It was a kindhearted way to show that someone was thinking about me and cared. And that in itself is the really cool and nice part of it all, yes? Simply to know you are on someone’s mind now and again.

And that is the way with Kindness. It really doesn’t take that much effort or cost to spread it around. A telephone call, text message, greeting card, or a short note sent along. Simply to let someone know that they are important enough in your life that you are thinking about them and took a few minutes to let them know it.

The benefit, both to the receiver and sender, is enormous.

Will you give Kindness a try today, reaching out to someone you know? A lot of folks find themselves shut-in, confined, and feeling isolated from the world during these COVID days for one reason or another.

Merely being a little more patient and friendly with the stranger checking out your groceries at the market goes a long way in spreading Kindness, as well. Along with our invaluable Healthcare Workers, Service Workers have had a rough go the past few years, too.

The past couple of years during the pandemic have been tough on everyone. We can all do our share to make a simple effort to brighten someone’s day.

And at some point, I can guarantee that you will quite unexpectedly find yourself on the receiving end of a kind gesture made by someone else, just for you.

It might even be a little Tea Bag Squeezer/Grabber/Thingy.

Thanks for stopping by today for this short message from my story character friend Little Red Bear and me to simply let you know that we have been thinking about YOU today. Go out, spread a little Kindness, and make it a great one!

Take care, best wishes, and God bless! ‘Til next time  — Jim  (and Red!)  🤠 🐻

If you enjoyed this piece, you may also like — “I Will Greet This Day With Love In My Heart”  and  Wishing You Deep Peace, Love, Happiness, and Joy –  And A Very Good Day! 

(New Visitors — Welcome! To find out what we are all about, please check out — “Welcome To My Writing Pages!” and “About the Blog, Jim & Little Red Bear” — and sign up to follow and be notified of every new post! Because really, why in the world wouldn’t you?)

            “Life is not so short but that there is always time enough for Courtesy.”           –  Ralph Waldo Emerson 

“Remember there’s no such thing as a small act of kindness.
Every act creates a ripple with no logical end.” – Scott Adams

Meet Little Red Bear & His Friends —  “Once Upon A Time In A Very Special Woods . . . .”

Old-fashioned, Family-friendly Stories and Fun for All Ages! 
About an Uncommonly Special Bear and His Friends.
Tap Here For A Free Preview!
“Kindness is the sunshine in which virtue grows.” — Robert Green Ingersoll

This is a purposefully non-monetized, ad-free site to be able to offer the most enjoyable reading and viewing experience for everyone, with all content freely shared, and generates no income to offset the costs of maintaining and operating.

If you enjoy your visits and time with us, I invite you to Join our new Patron Community today, because together we can do so much!

With the help of patrons, we are able to donate free print copies of “The Adventures of Little Red Bear: The First Holler!” to Senior Citizens,  School Libraries and Classrooms, and to those who could otherwise not obtain a copy.

Patrons also help my friend Little Red Bear and me to continue this as a Non-Monetized site free of distracting advertisements,  dedicated solely to entertainment and educational purposes while sharing positive messages of Happiness, Inspiration, Kindness, Environmental Awareness, and Conservation with everyone.

We invite you to Join Us In Making A Positive Difference In The World!

“It seems to be from my own personal experience that there is kindness everywhere.” – Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Thank You for visiting with us!
Please feel free to share with family and friends. Likes, Shares, & Comments are truly appreciated and help expand our reach and encourage new readers to visit!
Because together, we can do so much!