Bixby’s Unwatched Egg Parade — Before sunrise, when the tulip leaves still smelled like rain and the grass tickled his ankles, Bixby carried painted eggs through the patch in a basket made from bent reeds. Read the full story →
Before sunrise, when the tulip leaves still smelled like rain and the grass tickled his ankles, Bixby carried painted eggs through the patch in a basket made from bent reeds. He tucked a striped egg beside the molehill, a dotted egg under the robin’s favorite stem, and a wobbly zigzag egg near the place where beetles held their very tiny marching band. “No peeking,” he whispered to nobody, which made him grin so hard his whiskers lifted.
The meadow slowly brightened. Bees bumbled awake, tulips opened like cups, and Bixby sat in the middle to look innocent. He had one last job: keep his paws still while everyone discovered gifts he had not signed. Then something papery brushed between his ears. His daisy crown wriggled. From under the petals rolled a pea-sized blue egg painted with the words FOR THE SNEAKY GIVER.
Bixby blinked. A ladybug on a tulip stem polished her spots and pretended not to notice. Somewhere below, the beetle band went tum-titty-tum. Bixby placed the tiny egg where the sun could warm it, right beside his paws, and tried not to laugh too loudly. Next time you see that daisy crown, check carefully—generosity can hide in the place nobody thought to look.
