Wyatt’s Hat Waits — Every day, Wyatt set his dented cowboy hat beside the cactus road and waited for the noon whistle to puff through its tiny hole. Read the full story →
Every day, Wyatt set his dented cowboy hat beside the cactus road and waited for the noon whistle to puff through its tiny hole. The hat had belonged to his old burro, Biscuit, and when the wind blew just right, it went whoo-wheet like Biscuit saying hello.
Until one day, a road runner hopped by, grabbed the hat brim, and scooted off—zip, zip, zip! Because of that, Wyatt chased it past prickly cactus arms and warm red rocks. Because of that, he missed the first whistle and plopped down in the dusty road. “Fine,” he said, “you wait too.”
At last the road runner dropped the hat on the tallest letter, and the second whistle blew straight through: whoo-wheet! Wyatt laughed so hard the bird bowed. Next time you see that floppy hat, can you spot where patience made it sing?
