Olek the Owlet and the Good Night

Deep in the Białowieża Forest in Poland, where the great bison roam, there grows an old oak tree. In the oak there is a hollow, and in the hollow lives Olek the owlet — a grey, fluffy ball with big round eyes.

Every evening Mummy Owl smooths his feathers and says, "I'm going hunting. You wait here at home. I'll be back before sunrise."

And off she flies — softly, softly, without a single feather rustling.

And Olek stays behind. The night is big, and Olek is small.

Tonight it grew dark again. The wind swished through the leaves: shhh. Somewhere a branch creaked: creak. Olek pressed himself against the wall of the hollow.

"Moon!" he called. "Please shine a bit brighter!"

But the moon had just slipped behind a cloud, as if it had gone to bed too.

The night is big, and Olek is small.

So Olek squeezed his eyes shut, tight, tight, tight. "If I can't see the dark, it isn't there," he thought. But with his eyes closed, the dark only got darker. The shhh got louder, and the creak got closer.

The night is big, and Olek is small.

So Olek decided to be brave. He puffed out his chest and hooted as loud as he could: "HOO-HOO-HOOOO!"

And back from the forest came: "…hoooo…"

Olek got such a fright that he tucked his head under his wing. He didn't know it was only his own "hoo" wandering about between the trees.

The night is big, and Olek is small.

He sat under his wing and thought. Mummy always said, "Owls have the best eyes for the night." And he kept shutting his!

Olek poked his head out. And he opened his eyes. Wide, wide open, round as two coins.

And all at once, he could see the night.

Down in the clearing a bison was sleeping — big and warm, like a hill. Little clouds of breath puffed from his nose: pff… pff… In the ferns, curled up tight, a deer was sleeping with her fawn. From a nest in the next pine dangled a red squirrel's tail. And in the hollow across the way, a woodpecker was snoring very quietly: zzz… zzz…

"Good night, Bison," whispered Olek. "Good night, Deer. Good night, Squirrel. Good night, Woodpecker."

Nobody answered. They were all asleep. But that didn't feel scary. It felt warm.

Then the moon peeped out and turned the oak silver. And across the sky, without a sound, flew Mummy.

"Olek, are you still awake?"

"Mummy," said Olek, "the night isn't empty at all. It's full of sleeping friends."

Mummy wrapped him in her wing.

The night is big. And it is full of friends.

Olek yawned — hoo-hooo — very, very softly, so as not to wake anyone. And he fell asleep.