Timko Goes to Kindergarten

That morning Timko’s mom woke up before everyone else and put an apple pie in the oven.

“I’ll bake a pie, just in case,” she said. Because today Timko was going to kindergarten for the very first time.

Timko tied on his red scarf and put on a brand-new little backpack. Inside were an apple, some nuts, and a piece of Mom’s pie.

Acorn Kindergarten stood on a sunny glade. Little ones squeaked, laughed and stomped about. Timko stopped and snuffled his nose.

“Breathe in, breathe out, and off we go!” he whispered.

But his feet would not go. Timko clung to Mom’s apron, and tears went plip-plop down from his eyes.

A tall silver-grey hare in a purple cardigan came out to meet them. She crouched beside Timko, and her long ears bent right down to his little nose.

“I’m Miss Hare,” she said softly. “I can see you’re sad. It’s okay to be sad.”

Mom hugged Timko tight, tight.

“Now I’m going, Timko. And I’ll come for you after lunch and nap. You’ll eat your lunch, you’ll have your nap, and I’ll be here.”

“After lunch and nap,” Timko repeated, and sniffled.

Mom waved to him from the gate, and Timko waved back. He felt sad. But he knew when Mom would come.

Just then — whoosh! — a little orange fox cub in a striped T-shirt rushed past him.

“Me first!” he shouted, and pressed his nose to the window.

“That’s Rusty,” Miss Hare smiled. “He always runs to the window first.”

Under the bench sat a tiny grey mouse with a daisy behind her ear. Timko recognized her: it was the very same mouse he had once walked home to her burrow with his lantern!

“Pip! Are you scared?” Timko asked.

“Just a teeny bit,” the mouse said honestly.

“Me too,” Timko sighed. And both of them felt a little better.

They built a little house out of pine cones and made pies out of sand. And every now and then Rusty shouted “Me first!” and ran to the window again.

“Clap, clap, is everyone here?” Miss Hare clapped her paws. “Time for lunch!”

Lunch was baked apples and nuts. Timko took out Mom’s pie and shared it three ways: for himself, for Pip and for Rusty.

Then it was time for the nap. The little ones lay down in their beds. Only one bed stood empty. Rusty was at the window again. Quiet as a mouse. And sniffling.

“What’s wrong?” Timko came over.

“I’m watching for my mom,” Rusty whispered. “I want to be the first to see her.”

So that was why he kept running to the window! Rusty was sad too, only he hadn’t told anyone.

Miss Hare heard that sniffle with her long ears. But Timko got there first.

“Moms come after lunch and nap,” he said, just like his mom. “Lunch is already over. Only the nap is left.”

Rusty thought about it. He wiped his nose. And lay down in the bed next to Timko.

“I’ll fall asleep first!” he whispered.

And he did fall asleep first.

The little ones woke up, and outside the window the moms were already waiting. Rusty jumped up:

“I saw them first!”

And Timko’s mom was standing by the gate exactly when she had said: after lunch and nap. Timko raced to her, his backpack bouncing behind him, hop-hop.

In the evening Dad stood Timko against the board on the kitchen door frame.

“Now where’s my pencil?” Dad muttered.

“Behind your ear!” Timko laughed.

Dad drew a little line and sketched a tiny backpack beside it. Little Lily squeaked in Mom’s arms, as if she wanted a backpack too.

“Will you go to kindergarten tomorrow?” Mom asked.

“I will,” Timko nodded. “Rusty doesn’t know when the moms come without me.”