Pip the Hedgehog and the Lost Acorn Cap

Pip was a small hedgehog with a round nose and bright black eyes. He lived under a big oak tree at the edge of the wood. The oak was very old. Its roots were thick and twisty, and between two of them was Pip's little front door.

Every autumn, the oak dropped its acorns. And every acorn wore a tiny hat. Pip called them acorn caps. He loved them more than anything.

Pip did not eat the acorn caps. He used them as cups. When it rained, he set them out in a long line beside his door. Plink, plink, plink went the raindrops. By morning, every cap was full of fresh, cool water.

"One cup for breakfast," Pip would say. "One cup for lunch. And one cup for a sleepy sip at bedtime."

One golden morning, the leaves were falling all around. Red leaves, orange leaves, yellow leaves. They floated down like slow, soft feathers. Pip shuffled through them. Crunch, crunch, crunch.

He was looking for acorn caps, of course.

Then, under a big yellow leaf, he saw it.

It was the best acorn cap Pip had ever seen. It was round and deep. It was smooth and shiny, like it had been polished. And on one side it had a little curly stem, just like the handle of a real cup.

Pip held his breath. He picked it up very gently.

"Oh," he whispered. "You are perfect."

He turned it this way. He turned it that way. It fit his paws just right.

"This one is mine," said Pip. "This one is my very best cup. I will never, ever let it go."

He hugged it close to his tummy. Then he trotted down the path toward the stream, so he could fill it with water for the very first time.

The stream was singing its usual song. Burble, burble, splash. Sunlight danced on the water. Golden leaves sailed along on top like tiny boats.

But someone was sitting on a flat stone by the water. It was Lula the mouse. Lula had soft gray fur, big pink ears, and a long thin tail. Usually, Lula was the busiest mouse in the wood. She was always running and hopping and gathering seeds.

Today, Lula was not running. Today, Lula was sitting very still. Her ears drooped. Her whiskers drooped. Even her tail drooped.

Beside her sat a much smaller mouse. He was so tiny that he was almost all ears.

"Good morning, Lula," said Pip. "What is wrong?"

Lula sighed. "This is my baby brother, Nib," she said. "He is thirsty. He has been thirsty all morning."

Nib gave a small, dry squeak.

"But the stream is right here," said Pip.

"Look," said Lula. She pointed at the bank. The bank was steep and slippery. The water was far down below. "Nib is too little to climb down. And I have nothing to carry the water in. I tried using a leaf, but the water just ran right off."

She showed Pip a wet, droopy leaf. It was empty.

Nib squeaked again, even smaller this time.

Pip looked at Lula. He looked at Nib. Then he looked down at his shiny new acorn cap.

It was his very best cup. It was round and deep. It had a little curly handle. He had only just found it. He had not even had one sip from it yet.

Pip held it a little tighter.

"It is mine," he thought. "I found it. I have been looking all autumn."

But then Nib gave a tiny cough. And Lula patted his back softly, softly, the way big sisters do.

Pip thought about how it felt to be thirsty. Dry mouth. Scratchy throat. It was not a nice feeling at all.

He took a deep breath.

Then Pip held out his paws. In them sat the shiny acorn cap.

"You can use this," he said.

Lula's eyes went wide. "Your new cup? But Pip, it is so beautiful."

"It is a cup," said Pip. "Cups are for water. And Nib needs water."

Lula took the cap very gently. She held it by its little curly handle. She leaned over the bank, carefully, carefully, and dipped it into the stream.

The water swirled inside. It was clear and cool and sparkly. The cap held just the right amount. Not a drop spilled out.

Lula carried it to Nib with tiny, careful steps. Nib wrapped his paws around it. He drank, and drank, and drank.

Then he looked up with a wet little nose and gave the happiest squeak in the whole wood.

Lula filled the cap again, so Nib could have a second drink. Then she filled it for herself. Then she filled it one more time, and held it out to Pip.

"The first sip from your best cup," she said.

Pip took a sip. The water tasted cool and sweet. Somehow, it tasted even better than he had imagined.

When it was time to go, Lula tried to give the cap back.

Pip shook his head. "Keep it for Nib," he said. "He is small. He will need a cup more than I do."

Lula did not say anything. She just gave Pip a big, warm hug. Her whiskers tickled his nose.

That night, Pip curled up in his bed of moss. His line of old acorn caps waited by the door. There was a gap in the middle where the best one would have been.

But Pip did not feel empty. He felt warm all over, like a cup of something cozy.

The next morning, Pip opened his little door and stopped.

There, on his doorstep, was a pile of acorn caps. Big ones and small ones. Deep ones and round ones. Some were brown, and some were golden. They were tied together with a long piece of grass, like a bundle. And right on top sat a tiny white flower.

Lula peeked out from behind the oak. Nib peeked out from behind Lula.

"We looked for them all evening," said Lula. "Up and down the path, under every leaf."

"I found three!" squeaked Nib.

Pip looked at the bundle. He looked at his friends. And he laughed, and laughed, and laughed.

Now Pip had more cups than ever before. One for breakfast. One for lunch. One for a sleepy sip at bedtime.

And best of all, he had friends to share them with.