Rhea and the Wind – Read and Print

By Rachel Dunstan Muller, copyright 2021

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Rhea had a new umbrella, a blue umbrella – the colour of a bright spring afternoon. And it was a bright spring afternoon when Rhea asked if she could take her new umbrella outside, while her mother worked in the garden.

“But it’s not even raining,” said her mother.

Rhea wanted to take her umbrella outside anyway – in case it did start to rain.

“Alright,” said her mother. “But be careful. Don’t let the wind steal it from you.”

“I promise,” said Rhea.

Rhea sat on the back step with her umbrella, twirling it slowly over her head.

“That is a very nice umbrella,” said a robin, as it hopped near Rhea’s feet.

“Thank you,” said Rhea.

“Oh, I like your umbrella,” said the sun.

“I like it too,” said Rhea.

“Ooooh. What a pretty umbrella,” said a playful breeze. “I wish I had an umbrella like that. If I did, I would blow it up and up, into the sky – like a kite.”

Rhea held on a little more tightly. “You’ll have to get your own umbrella,” she said. “This one is mine.”

“Could I just play with it for a little while?” said the breeze. “I’d bring it right back.”

“Sorry, not today,” said Rhea.

“Are you sure?” said the breeze, as it blew past Rhea’s fingers, and the back of her neck, and through her curly hair.

“Oooh, that tickles,” said Rhea. But she did not let go of the umbrella.

The breeze blew harder, until it became a gust of wind. It blew so hard, that it began to lift the umbrella, so that Rhea had to hold on tight with both hands.

“I am not letting go,” said Rhea, “no matter how hard you blow. But I have an idea. If you’d like – I could hold on tight, and you could take us both for a ride.”

“Hmm,” said the wind. “That sounds like fun.”

“Just one thing,” said Rhea. “I need to be home by dinner,”

“Of course,” said the wind. “Are you ready?”

Rhea nodded, and the wind began to blow. It blew just hard enough to lift Rhea and her new umbrella up into the air, up and up, until they were as high as the house.

Rhea’s mother looked up from the garden. “Rhea! What are you doing up there?”

“The wind’s giving me a ride,” said Rhea. “Don’t worry. I’ll be back for dinner.”

“Alright,” said her mother. “But hold on tight!”

The wind blew Rhea over her house, and over her front garden, and then out over the street. When the neighbours saw Rhea floating above them, they gasped – and then waved with both hands. Rhea couldn’t wave back – since she was holding on to her umbrella – but she smiled and said hello!

The wind carried her over more houses, and more streets, then right over the center of town. “Hello,” Rhea called to the woman sitting on a bench. “Hello,” she said to the man walking his dog. “Woof, woof,” said the dog.

Everywhere she went, people smiled and waved. Some of them got out their phones and took Rhea’s picture.

“Where shall we go next?” said the wind.

“Everywhere,” said Rhea.

“Alright,” the wind said. “Hold on!”

Rhea and her blue umbrella floated over a church, and a school, and a playground. They floated over a soccer field, and a golf course, and then down along the harbour. “Hello boats,” Rhea called. “Hello seagulls. Hello fishermen.”

Past the harbour they went, then out over the rolling hills of the countryside. “Hello horses, hello cows, hello chickens,” Rhea called. “Squawk!” said the chickens. They seemed very surprized to see a girl and her umbrella floating above their farm.

Rhea floated over a forest – and saw an eagle in its nest. She floated over a marsh with ducks and a beaver dam. She floated over a meadow, where a family of deer were grazing.

But finally, it was time to go home. The wind gently carried Rhea and her umbrella back over the hills, and the harbour, and the center of town; back to her own street, and her own house, and her own mother, waiting to welcome her home. Then very gently, the wind lowered Rhea and her umbrella down to the ground.

“Thank you,” said Rhea. “That was so much fun.”

“Thank you,” said the wind. “Perhaps we could do it another time, when I blow back this way again.”

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