Ellie and the Secret of the Forest

Ellie and the Whispering Woods Ellie

Oakridge had a gift. She could hear what others couldn’t. Not in a spooky way—no ghosts or monster voices or anything like that. Ellie could hear the soft things. The things most people missed. Like the whisper of trees when they shivered in the breeze. Or the way flowers sighed when they were thirsty. Or the grumble of a

beetle trying to flip itself over in the grass. She never told anyone. Not even her big brother Leo or her pet parakeet, Skippy. People already called her “forest girl” because she loved walking alone in the woods behind her house, collecting fallen feathers, twigs shaped like letters, and pebbles with tiny stars inside them. But Ellie didn’t mind. The woods were her favorite place

in the world. Especially the part her mom told her never to go. The Whispering Woods. They weren’t on any map. Just deep, dark, and tangled in green. Her mom said, “Too many wild animals.” Her teacher said, “Too easy to get lost.” Her neighbors said, “Bad energy.” But the trees called to her. Not loudly. Softly. “Ellie…” they rustled. “Please come…” And one cloudy

Thursday, when school was closed and everyone was napping after lunch, she went. She packed a granola bar, her flashlight, her favorite feather pencil, and her green sketchbook with “WILD THINGS ONLY” written on the front. Skippy chirped as she climbed over the stone wall and tiptoed into the part of the forest where no one ever went. At first, it looked like any other

woods. Tall pines. Mushrooms. Crinkly leaves. But then the air grew thicker. Warmer. Like a secret was hiding in the trees. Ellie slowed her steps. Suddenly, a voice—not a human one, but deep and slow—echoed through her mind. “Another listener… It’s been years.” Ellie spun around. “Who’s there?” The trees rustled. Leaves danced. She followed the sound. That’s when she saw the first one. A

small fox with golden eyes, trapped in a net of twisting vines. It struggled, but the more it moved, the tighter they pulled. “Shhh,” Ellie whispered. She pulled out her pocket scissors and snipped gently, carefully. The vines hissed as they loosened. The fox blinked up at her. “Thank you,” it said. Ellie gasped. “You… you can talk?” The fox chuckled. “Only to listeners.” He

licked his paw. “I’m Rook. And you’re in more danger than you know.” Rook led Ellie deeper into the woods, past mossy rocks shaped like bears and trees that leaned toward her like old friends. He told her about a spell cast long ago—a whispering curse that made humans forget how to listen. A curse that turned animals and trees invisible to their hearts. “But

sometimes,” Rook said, “a Listener is born. Someone who can still hear.” Ellie felt a shiver run down her spine. They reached a clearing where animals huddled together—squirrels, owls, a deer with one missing antler, and even a turtle with a cracked shell. “They’re all stuck,” Rook said. “Hurt or lost or afraid. The forest used to care for them. But the spell made it

forget how.” Ellie knelt beside them. She could hear tiny heartbeats. Quiet sniffles. Whispers. “I want to help.” Rook nodded. “That’s why the forest called you.” For hours, Ellie worked. She made slings from her scarf. Cleaned wounds with damp leaves. Tied twigs into splints. Hugged. Listened. Each time she helped, the trees grew brighter. Greener. The moss turned a rich emerald. The sky peeked

through with bits of gold. Then a storm rolled in. But not a normal one. This storm growled. Winds ripped through the branches. Trees twisted. Shadows surged. Rook’s ears flattened. “It’s the Whisperer.” “The what?!” “The one who keeps the spell alive. He feeds on silence—on forgotten kindness. If he finds you helping us…” BOOM. A tree cracked nearby. Ellie stood tall. “No one hurts

my friends.” She ran. The animals followed. Twisting through roots and over fallen logs, Ellie reached a tree shaped like a spiral. She climbed it as fast as she could. The Whisperer rose behind her. A swirling black shape, with eyes like frozen lakes and breath like smoke. “Stop listening,” he hissed. “Close your ears. Be like the others.” Ellie clutched the tree. “No,” she

said. He howled. “You’re just a girl!” “I’m a Listener.” And with that, she pulled out her sketchbook. Inside were drawings of all the creatures she had helped—sketched in crayon and leaf ink. Every smile. Every mended paw. Every grateful tail. She held it up like a shield. “This is who I am.” The pages glowed. One by one, the animals behind her began to

speak. “I’m not forgotten.” “She helped me.” “She heard me.” The Whisperer shrieked, but the sound began to fade. The forest stood taller. The winds quieted. And then… silence. The good kind. The soft kind. Ellie climbed down, her heart pounding. Rook touched her hand. “You broke the spell.” The forest bloomed like never before. Vines turned into ladders. Stones glowed like lanterns. The old

magic had returned. “Will the others see it now?” Ellie asked. Rook shook his head. “Most won’t. But some will feel it. A sudden urge to help. To look closer. To listen.” “And me?” “You’ll always hear. But now, you won’t be alone.” Ellie hugged each animal goodbye. Sketched one last tree. And followed the glowing trail back home. No one noticed she’d been gone.

But Ellie did. She saw how the leaves near her window curled toward her. How her parakeet chirped three soft notes she’d never heard before. How her brother quietly put the bigger cookie on her plate. Something had changed. Not loudly. Softly. Ellie wrote in her journal that night: “Some people wait to be heard. Others choose to listen first.” And in the Whispering Woods,

the trees smiled. Because their Listener had returned. Moral of the Story: Listening is a superpower. When we stop to really hear others—whether animals, people, or even trees—we discover the kindness that changes everything.

The End

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Let's Talk About a Story!

Ellie could hear "soft things" that others missed. What kind of soft things do you think we can hear or see if we pay close attention to the world around us?

Why do you think the Whisperer was trying to stop Ellie from listening to the animals?

Ellie's sketchbook with drawings of the animals she helped became her shield. What does this tell us about the power of kindness and remembering good deeds?

The story says, "Some people wait to be heard. Others choose to listen first." What does this mean to you, and why is listening a superpower?