Sing It, Bug!
Practice Words
Words with the silent 'w' in the 'wr' combination, where only the /r/ sound is heard.
Spring had come, and Bug had a wriggly feeling in her belly. A fizzy, buzzy, can't-sit-still feeling. She gripped her branch and grinned so wide her face nearly split in two. 'I want to sing!' Bug told no one at all. But there was one problem. Bug had never sung a single note. Not one.
Bug found Duck by the pond, singing in the pouring rain. 'Quack la la la quack!' Duck sang at the clouds, rain splashing off his feathers. Bug wrinkled her face. 'That song is all wrong for me,' she said. Duck shook his head and told her she could not sing without rain, because rain made a song wet and wonderful. Bug looked at her dripping wings and muttered that she wanted a fun song, not a wet one.
Frog sat at the edge of the pond, chest puffed out. 'BRRR-UP BRRR-UP BRRR-UP!' His song went on. And on. And on. It had been going since breakfast. 'That's... very long,' said Bug from the bank. 'Can you teach me a shorter one?' Frog blinked. 'Shorter? My song has forty-seven parts! I'm only on part twelve!' Bug felt that was all wrong for her, and she backed away slowly.
Big Bird threw back her head and sang. The branch shook. The leaves shook. Bug's antennae wrenched sideways. 'TRILL-A-RILL-A-REEEE!' Bug clapped and clapped. 'That was grand!' she cried. 'Teach me that!' She took a deep breath. She opened her mouth. Out came a tiny squeak, thin as a bent blade of grass. Big Bird patted her gently. 'Try something smaller, dear.'
Sad Bird drooped on the branch, singing low and slow. 'Ohhh, the worms are gone... the sky is gray... I feel so wretched every single day...' Bug drooped too, and tears slid down her cheeks. 'What if we made it a happy song, with a bit of bounce?' Sad Bird stared at her. 'Why would anyone sing a happy song?' he whispered. 'Sadness is best.' 'Well, not for me,' Bug muttered, and hopped away.
Then Bug heard a bright sound, like a tiny bell. 'CHIRP chirp-chirp CHIRP!' Crick sang, bouncing on his feet. Bug ran so fast she tripped on a leaf. 'That's the song I want! Not wet, not long, not loud, not sad. Just fun!' Crick grinned. 'Want the secret? You don't find your song. You open your mouth and let it wriggle right out. There's no wrong way.'
Bug climbed up on a rock, her heart hammering and her legs wobbling. She opened her mouth and let the song wriggle out. One bright note rang across the trees, and Bug's eyes went wide. She tried again, and this time it wasn't long or loud or sad, but it rang like a bell, and it was all hers. 'I can sing!' Bug shouted, raising one tiny wrist high in the air.
Bug had a wild idea. What if everyone sang together? She ran back to every friend. 'Come sing with me!' she told them all. At first, it was a wreck. Duck quacked. Frog bellowed. Big Bird drowned them all out. Sad Bird sang about rain clouds. Crick chirped as fast as he could. 'Stop!' Bug yelled, waving her arms. 'Listen to each other, not just yourselves!' One by one, they tried again. Duck went soft. Frog kept it short. Big Bird hummed low. Slowly, voice by voice, the song began to ring.
Big Bird, Sad Bird, Duck, Frog, Crick, and Bug sang together on the hilltop, and the sound rolled out over the land like a wave. Frog kept it to four parts. Sad Bird gave a wry little smile, and nobody fainted from the shock. Duck sang without a single raindrop. Right in the middle, one tiny chirp held them all together like a thread. 'What a thing!' Bug laughed. And they sang it all again from the top.
That night, and every night after, Bug sang her song. She sang to the flowers. She sang to the rocks. She sang to a worm, who didn't look glad but listened anyway. She flung her arms wide and let that bright little chirp ring out. Her song was not the longest. It was not written in any book. But walk past her hill on a spring night and listen close, and you'll hear it. And you'll find yourself singing along.