Why there is Fog by Linda M. Whipple (read book TXT) đź“–
- Author: Linda M. Whipple
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Why there is Fog
By
L. M. Whipple
A long, long time ago, there lived a small cloud named Foggy. Every day Foggy went to a school for clouds, where all clouds learned how to make rain.
Foggy would try his very hardest, but no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t make any rain. Instead, he would just float down to the ground and slowly spread out, covering everything.
The other clouds in school would laugh and make fun of him, making him feel sad.
“Foggy can’t make any rain!” They laughed.
He always felt bad when the day was over, until he met his friend, West Wind. She would always meet him after school to help him float safely home. When he told her why he was sad, she smiled at him.
“You’re going to be a very important cloud someday,” she said, “You just wait and see.”
“It’s hard to be important when you can’t do what everyone else does.” Foggy said sadly.
They finally reached the small patch of sky that was Foggy’s home, and West Wind told him to keep trying. “Things will be alright, just you wait and see!” She blew him a kiss and raced away.
Foggy smiled as he turned to look for his mother. West Wind really was a very good friend.
“Mom, I’m home!” He yelled, as he floated to her.
“Good Foggy,” She said wrapping him in a hug,” now get yourself all cleaned and puffed up! We’re going to the Great Meeting tonight!”
OH! The Great Meeting! “I forgot about that!” He said, and went to get himself ready.
Once every fall, all the clouds would gather together to plan out where each Storm, Rain and Snow cloud would go for the next year.
Long before even Foggy’s own mom and dad were born, the biggest, loudest and stormiest cloud in the sky would go to the meeting place and storm down on the earth below. His name was Big Thunder, and he always made sure the people who lived down below couldn’t see what they were doing.
Foggy thought he must be very old by now, and how exciting it is to be able to see him!
He was just about finished, when he heard the sound of West Wind racing toward him as fast as she could.
“Terrible news!” she called, “Big Thunder isn’t coming this year, he can hardly stay afloat! The other winds have taken him to rest, and no one else is ready to take his place!”
“Oh no!” said Foggy’s dad. “What will we do?”
“Goodness!” said his mom, “they’ll have to cancel the Meeting!”
All of the grownups looked very worried.
Foggy was very sad again. He had really wanted to see Big Thunder. He looked up at West Wind, who was staring at him with a very big smile.
“Foggy, you need to come with me right now!”
West Wind gathered Foggy and his parents up, and carried them as fast as she could to the Meeting place.
The other clouds there were all very upset. Some of them were trying to make rain and thunder like Big Thunder could, but they were not as big, or as loud as he was.
Some of the clouds looked a little bit afraid. The Cloud who was in charge of all the meetings, Headmaster Cloud, was very angry! He was making rain go up instead of down!
“Headmaster Cloud!” Shouted West Wind, “I have the answer to our problem!”
She scooted Foggy right in front of everyone.
Foggy was scared, he didn’t know what West Wind was thinking, but he was starting to think maybe she wasn’t such a good friend!
“What!” The Headmaster Cloud stared, “I have no time for games West Wind,” he bellowed.
“Listen to me, let Foggy try, just one chance, and you will see our problem is fixed!” She was scooting Foggy along in front of her.
“What are you doing West?” asked Foggy. “I can’t do anything!”
“Yes-you-CAN! Just try like you did at school!” she said, backing away. “I believe in you Foggy.”
Foggy looked at Headmaster Cloud. “You get ONE chance like everyone else, little cloud,” He nodded to Foggy, “Begin.”
Oh, poor Foggy felt so clumsy with every one staring at him, he wanted to run and hide. What could he do? His mom and dad were watching him, and he couldn’t let them down. He could try.
Foggy closed his eyes tight and thought about rain falling to the ground.
Rain, make rain! He thought over and over.
He felt himself shiver, and then, he began to float down toward the ground, slowly stretching longer and wider.
“Oh, I’m a failure!” He mumbled, “I’ll never be able to make rain, and now EVERYONE knows!”
Foggy stopped, hearing noise from the clouds above him. Were they all laughing?
He saw West Wind racing to him. “What do you want?” he asked sourly. “You made me do this in front of everyone, and now they’re all laughing at me!”
West Wind was smiling at him.
“Oh Foggy! They’re not laughing at you, listen,” she said, “They’re all CHEERING for you!”
“I knew you could do it!” she shouted, and she hugged him only as wind can hug a cloud. “They can still have the meeting, Foggy look,” she pointed around them, “You’re covering up everything down here! The people can’t see us there at all!”
He thought about all the other clouds who made rain and snow, and thunder. He was just as good as the others, only a little different, and that made him feel very happy. He didn’t have to make rain.
Foggy saw his mom and dad smiling down at him and he smiled right back, stretching himself as far as he could across the ground.
He saw the other clouds in the sky that had made fun of him, all very quiet and hiding behind their mothers. They all felt bad for how they had teased him.
As time passed, Foggy helped all around the world, helping the clouds get things done. He was the only cloud that could hide the meetings as well as Big Thunder ever had. He even got to meet Big Thunder after he got better.
In fact, it was Big Thunder who gave Foggy his nickname, the one you and I know him by.
Fog.
Foggy liked that nickname very much.
Foggy is still around. Look outside at night sometime, or in the very early morning, and you might be able to see him, covering the earth while the clouds have their meetings.
(Don’t say anything to him though; we aren’t supposed to know any of this.)
And that, my friends, is why there is FOG.
The End.
Text: (c) 2008
Publication Date: 12-16-2009
All Rights Reserved
Dedication:
To my mother, who always listened
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