Riverbank Home

The sun shone down on the riverbank, where the sound of gently lapping water filled the air, and the smell of wet earth rose up, and the big willow tree always seemed to lean a little too far out over the water. Ivy, with her curly brown hair tied back in a loose knot, stood on the riverbank, feeling the warm wood of the dock beneath her feet.

This afternoon, the family of otters that lived in the den beneath the willow tree had begun to cause a small trouble. They had taken to swimming right up to the dock, trying to get to the fish that Ivy's family kept in a big wooden bucket. Ivy wanted to feed the fish, but the otters kept getting in the way. She felt frustrated, and her hands were clenched into fists.

"You're getting upset," said her mother, standing beside her on the dock, "I can see that." She didn't try to shoo the otters away, but instead handed Ivy a small handful of rocks. "Why don't you try skipping these across the water?" she said.

Ivy took the rocks, and began to skip them, one by one, across the river. The otters, startled by the splashing, swam away, and Ivy was able to feed the fish. As she did, the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the riverbank.

As the stars began to come out, Ivy and her mother sat down together on the dock, watching the water. The sound of the river was quieter now, and the smell of the earth was sweeter. From that day on, whenever Ivy felt frustrated, she would skip rocks across the river, and her mother would sit with her, watching the water, and the willow tree would lean out over the river, a constant presence in their lives.