Tola the Little Dragon and the Golden Sparks

High above the river Vistula, in a warm sandy cave, lives a little dragon called Tola. She is green like young moss, with golden freckles along her back, and her wings are still tiny, like two leaves. There is one thing about Tola: when she feels wobbly inside, she gets the hiccups. Hic! — and golden sparks fly out of her nose. Tola's sparks don't burn. They are warm and tickly, like sunbeams dancing on a wall.

Today is Tola's very first day at the forest nursery. That morning, fog lay over the meadows by the Vistula — thick and white, like milk in a mug.

"Mum, what if I hiccup there?" asked Tola.

"Then you'll hiccup," smiled Mum. "What's wrong with that?"

"Hic!" said Tola. And three sparks floated off into the fog.

The forest nursery stood at the edge of the woods, under an old beech tree. The teacher, a badger in a striped apron called Pani Borsukowa — that's "Mrs Badger" in Polish — met Tola at the door.

"Hello, Tola. This is Jeżyk the hedgehog, this is Lisiczka the fox, and this is Wiewiórka the squirrel."

Jeżyk snuffled, Lisiczka swished her tail, Wiewiórka nibbled a nut.

"Hic!" said Tola. Sparks scattered all over the floor. Jeżyk gasped. And Tola blushed right to the tip of her tail.

I must hide them, she decided.

First, Tola took a huge breath and held it. Her cheeks puffed up like two apples. She held on, and held on… and — hic! The sparks shot out of her ears. Lisiczka snorted with laughter.

Hic — and sparks. There's no hiding them.

Next, Tola picked a big burdock leaf and pressed it over her mouth. Hic! — the leaf lit up from inside like a lantern. Wiewiórka stared at it with round eyes.

Hic — and sparks. There's no hiding them.

So Tola went behind a tree stump in the far corner of the clearing and sat there all alone. Nobody will see me here, she thought. Or my sparks. Hic. Hic. The sparks faded quietly into the grass.

Hic — and sparks. There's no hiding them.

After lunch, Pani Borsukowa took everyone down to the stream to gather acorns. Tola walked at the back. But while they were filling their baskets, the fog came creeping up from the Vistula again. It crept as quietly as a cat and swallowed the stream, then the bushes, then the path. It was so white that Jeżyk couldn't see his own paws.

"Pani Borsukowa!" squeaked Wiewiórka. "Where are you?"

"I'm here!" called a voice from the fog. "But I can't see the path!"

"I'm scared," whispered Jeżyk, and rolled into a ball.

Lisiczka gave a small whimper.

And then, because she was so worried, Tola hiccuped. Hic! Three golden sparks drifted through the fog — bright and warm, easy to see from far away.

"Oh," said Wiewiórka. "Look! Little lights!"

Tola froze. Hide them? Or… She took a deep breath and hiccuped on purpose, as hard as she could: "HIC!"

A whole cloud of sparks rose up around her, and the fog turned gold.

"Follow me!" called Tola. "Follow the sparks!"

She felt for the path with her paws and set off. Hic — a spark. Hic — another one. The golden dots hung in the fog like beads on a string, and everyone followed them: Jeżyk, Lisiczka, Wiewiórka, and last of all Pani Borsukowa with her basket of acorns. Step by step, spark by spark, until the old beech tree loomed out of the fog.

"We're back!" cried Lisiczka.

Jeżyk uncurled and said, "Tola, your sparks are golden."

"The best lanterns in the whole forest," nodded Pani Borsukowa.

That evening, Mum tucked Tola into her soft moss bed.

"So — did you hiccup?" she asked.

"A hundred times," said Tola. "And do you know what? It was good."

"The thing you were hiding helped others see," said Mum, and kissed her warm forehead.

Fog settled over the Vistula once more. Tola yawned and — hic! — let out one small, sleepy spark. It twirled beneath the cave roof, twinkled like a star, and quietly went out.

And Tola was already asleep.