Poppy and the Far Lily Pad

The pond had lily pads big enough to stand on. Poppy hopped across them every morning in her yellow boots, hop, hop, hop.

Today a stranger sat on the very last pad. He was an old man in a green coat, with a woolly hat that had a bobble on top. He looked a little lonely, like a button in a drawer.

Poppy wanted to give him a kind word. She had one ready. I like your hat.

Hop, hop, hop, she went. But the next pad was far away, and her whisper was small.

"I like your hat," she whispered.

The old man did not hear. He was watching the water.

So Poppy tried again. She stood tall and called, "I LIKE YOUR HAT!"

"QUACK!" said a duck right beside her. Then three more ducks said it too. The old man cupped his hand behind his ear and shook his head.

Poppy's cheeks went pink. A frog on the next pad went plip, as if he were laughing.

"It's not funny," said Poppy. The frog said nothing. He was busy catching a fly.

Poppy stood still and thought. The ducks were loud. The pad was far. But the old man could see her. He had looked right at her yellow boots.

So she waved.

He waved back.

Then Poppy pointed at his hat. She opened her mouth very wide and said the words without any sound at all. I. Like. Your. Hat.

The old man's face crinkled. He pulled off his hat and looked at it, as if he had forgotten it was there. Then he put it on again and tipped it, just for her. The bobble wobbled.

He pointed to her boots and made a big round mouth. Nice. Boots.

Poppy grinned. The pad bobbed under her feet, and little ripples ran away across the pond, soft and slow, until the ducks went quiet.