Pancakes for Little Bear – Read and Print

By Rachel Dunstan Muller, copyright 2021

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Little Bear woke up one morning with a grumble in his tummy. It was as if there were another little bear inside his stomach growling for food.

“I’m hungry,” said Little Bear.

“I can hear that,” said Mama Bear. “What would you like for breakfast? A bowl of berries? A serving of salmon?”

“I’d like a plate of pancakes,” said Little Bear.

“Mmm, I like pancakes too,” said Mama Bear. “But we need oil and eggs and baking powder and flour to make pancakes – and I don’t have any of those things in my cupboard.”

“I could go and get them from Mr. Owl’s store,” said Little Bear. “It would be an adventure!”

“Well, it is a lovely morning for an adventure,” said Mama Bear. “But do you think you can remember everything we need for pancakes?”

Little Bear puffed out his chest and nodded. “To make pancakes, we need oil and eggs and baking powder and . . . and. . .” But try as he might, he just couldn’t remember the last thing.

“And flour,” said Mama Bear. “But don’t you worry. I’ll write a list in case you forget, and you can give the list to Mr. Owl.”

“Thank you,” said Little Bear. “That’s a very good idea.”

So, Mama Bear wrote out the list. It said, oil, eggs, baking powder and flour. Little Bear held that list tight in one front paw, and a basket in his other front paw, and off he went to Mr. Owl’s store.

It was a lovely morning, a perfect morning to go for a stroll. Little Bear walked through a meadow full of wildflowers. He followed a dragonfly to the edge of a stream. He found a log over the stream and balanced his way across. And when he reached the other side, he bent over the rushing water to have a drink, the way that thirsty bears do. But as he was leaning over the stream Mama’s list slipped out of his paw, and fell into the rushing water. “Oh dear,” said Little Bear, as he watched the water carry the paper away.

“But that’s alright,” he said. “I still have my basket, and I don’t need a list to remember. I’ll tell Mr. Owl the four things Mama needs all by myself.”

Mr. Owl was sweeping the front step when Little Bear got to the store. “Hello, Little Bear,” said Mr. Owl.

“Hello, Mr. Owl,” Little Bear said proudly. “Mama Bear sent me to get four things. We need oil, and eggs, and baking powder . . . and . . . and . . .” But he just could not remember the last thing. “Wait,” Little Bear said. “I know. Mama needs flowers! But I don’t need to buy those in the store. I can pick my own flowers on the way home.”

So Mr. Owl put the oil, the eggs and the baking powder in Little Bear’s basket, and then off Little Bear went, carrying that basket very carefully. And as he went, he kept his eyes open for pretty flowers. He picked pink flowers by the stream, he picked red and orange and white flowers in the meadow, and he picked some blue flowers on the path that led up to his own front door.

“I’m back,” Little Bear called as he stepped inside. “And just in time. My tummy is hungrier than ever. I can’t wait for those pancakes.”

Mama Bear gave Little Bear a welcome home hug and then looked into the basket. There was oil, and eggs and baking powder – but there was no flour. “Where’s the flour?” said Mama Bear.

“Here,” said Little Bear proudly, and from behind his back he brought out his bouquet of flowers: red and orange and pink and white and blue.

“Oh, Little Bear,” said Mama Bear. “They are beautiful! The most beautiful flowers I’ve ever seen. But I need baking flour to make pancakes.”

Little Bear’s stomach growled like a Grizzly Bear. “Oh, no!” said Little Bear. “I got it wrong. I’m sorry, Mama. Now what are we going to do?”

Mama Bear smiled. “Don’t you worry, Little Bear. You are going to sit down right now and fill that hungry belly with berries and salmon. And when you’ve had enough to eat, we’re going back to Mr. Owl’s store together, and we’re going to buy the biggest sack of flour he has.”

And that is just what they did. And when Little Bear and Mama Bear got back from the store, they worked side by side to make the biggest batch of pancakes anyone in the forest had ever seen. All their neighbours came for supper that night, and they feasted on pancakes dripping with melted butter and warm maple syrup.

“I love pancakes,” Little Bear said, when Mama Bear tucked him in that night.

“Me too,” said Mama Bear. “Me too.”   

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