A Button for the Snail

Hello, and welcome back to Thimblewick Lane. Snuggle down under your blanket. Wiggle your toes, and then let them be still. Tonight’s story is called A Button for the Snail.

At the very bottom of a big green garden, under the biggest leaf of an old, tall plant, there is a little lane made of smooth, flat pebbles. Grey and white and pale pink. Along each side are tiny shops, no bigger than teapots, with round windows and little doors.

This is Thimblewick Lane.

Do you remember the little snail who fell asleep beside Pip’s golden button, down by the pond? Pip let him borrow it for the night, like a tiny golden pillow. And she made a promise. She said she would bring him a button of his very own.

Pip Hazel the hedgehog always keeps her promises.

So, at the end of the next day, when the sky above the big leaf had turned the colour of peaches again, Pip stood in her button shop and looked at all her jars.

“Which button would a snail like best?” she wondered.

She opened the jar of red buttons. They were bright and cheerful. “Too loud,” she said kindly, “for someone so quiet.”

She opened the jar of wooden buttons. They were smooth and warm. “Nice,” she said. “But a little bit heavy for a snail to carry.”

Then she opened the jar of shell buttons. They were thin and light, and they shone pink and silver and pale blue, like the inside of the sea.

Pip picked one up and held it to the window. The evening light shone through it, soft and pearly.

“This one,” she whispered. “This one is just right.”

She wrapped the shell button in a tiny square of cloth, and tied it with a piece of thread. Then she opened her little door. Ting-a-ling went the bell. And out she stepped onto the cool, smooth pebbles.

Next door, at the teacup bakery, Juniper and Fen were putting the last loaves on the shelf. The bakery smelled of warm bread and honey.

“Where are you going, Pip?” asked Juniper.

“To give the snail his button,” said Pip. “I promised.”

Fen’s eyes lit up. He signed quickly to his sister, and Juniper laughed. “Fen says the snail might be hungry after such a long sleep. Wait one moment!”

Fen hopped to the oven and came back with something very small. It was a crumb of honey bread, no bigger than a pea, still a little bit warm. He wrapped it in a leaf and gave it to Pip.

For the snail, he signed.

“Thank you, Fen,” Pip signed back. “He will love it.”

So now Pip had two little parcels. A button, and a crumb of bread. And Juniper and Fen came with her, because a walk is nicer with friends.

Further down the lane, Nana Moss the badger was sitting outside her boot library, reading a book in the last of the light. She looked up over her glasses.

“Off to see your snail?” she asked.

“Yes,” said Pip. “But Nana Moss, I don’t know his name.”

Nana Moss closed her book slowly. “Then you’ll have to ask him,” she said. “Names are one of the nicest things to learn about a new friend.” And she wrapped her blanket round her shoulders and came along too.

The four friends walked down the lane together. Not quickly. There was no hurry. Pat, pat, pat went their feet on the pebbles.

The sky was turning lavender. The moths were out, drifting slowly in the air. Somewhere, a cricket began to sing, very softly, as if it did not want to wake anyone.

At the bottom of the lane, beside the pond, Grandpa Odo the lamplighter was waiting with his long pole and his stick.

“Good evening, friends,” he said, in his warm, croaky voice. “I thought you might come.”

And there, on the flat lily pad at the edge of the pond, was the little snail. He was awake this time. He was holding the golden button carefully, and looking at it, and looking at the friends.

“Hello,” said Pip gently. “I’m Pip. I came to say hello. What’s your name?”

The snail blinked his little eyes on their stalks. He spoke very slowly, because snails do everything slowly.

“My… name… is… Dewdrop,” he said.

“Dewdrop,” said Pip. “That’s a lovely name.”

Dewdrop held out the golden button. “Thank… you… for… letting… me… borrow… it,” he said. “It… was… the… best… pillow… I… ever… had.”

Pip took the golden button and put it safely in her apron pocket. Then she gave Dewdrop her little parcel.

Dewdrop opened it slowly. Very, very slowly. Everyone waited, and nobody minded, because waiting can be peaceful too.

Inside was the shell button, shining pink and silver and blue.

Dewdrop gasped a tiny gasp. “For… me?”

“For you,” said Pip. “To keep.”

Dewdrop rested his head on the shell button. It was the perfect size. It was cool and smooth, like a pebble in a stream.

Then Fen stepped forward and gave him the little leaf parcel. Dewdrop opened that one too, slowly, and found the crumb of honey bread. He nibbled it, and closed his eyes, and smiled.

“This… is… the… best… evening,” said Dewdrop.

Grandpa Odo chuckled softly. “Every evening on Thimblewick Lane is a good evening,” he said. “And now, I think, it is time to light the lamps. Dewdrop, would you like to watch?”

“Yes… please,” said Dewdrop. And he settled down on his shell button pillow to see.

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