Chicken Little a personalized book with your child as the hero

One bright morning, a small golden chick called Chicken Little was scratching about in an oak grove. The leaves rustled, the sun spilled through the branches, and a child was sitting nearby, watching the breeze play in the grass.

Plink! Something small and hard dropped from above and landed on the chick's head. Chicken Little jumped and looked up at the wide branches. Then she looked down at the ground, where a shiny brown acorn lay beside her feet.

"Oh!" she cried. "Something hit me! The sky is falling! I must tell the king!"

The child came over and knelt down. "Wait," said the child kindly. "What happened, Chicken Little? Tell me slowly."

But Chicken Little was too flustered to be slow. She flapped her tiny wings and hurried off down the path. Soon she met Henny Penny, a white duck with a bright orange beak, who was paddling at the edge of a puddle.

"The sky is falling," said Chicken Little. "We are going to tell the king."

"Goodness," said the duck. "I shall come with you." She waddled quickly after them, and the child walked beside them both, with a thoughtful frown.

On they went. They met Ducky Lucky, who joined in with a quack of alarm, and then Goosey Loosey, a grey goose with a long pale neck, who stretched out her wings and honked, "The sky is falling!" Last of all came Turkey Lurkey, a brown turkey with a small red wattle, who puffed out his chest and said, "Then we must hurry!"

So the procession marched along the country lane toward the king's village: a chick, a duck, a goose, a turkey and one child at the back. Every bird chattered louder than the last, and each told the tale a little bigger than before.

At a bend in the lane they met a russet fox in a plain brown waistcoat. He tipped his head and smiled, showing a great many teeth.

"Good day, good day," said the fox. "Where are you all going in such a hurry?"

"The sky is falling," said the birds together. "We are going to tell the king."

"Ah, then you are on the wrong road," said the fox sweetly. "This is the long way. I know a shortcut." He pointed to a dark, narrow path that wound between the trees. "Follow me, and I will take you to the king in no time."

The birds began to follow, but the child stopped a few steps back. The narrow path was shadowy and silent, and the fox's smile did not look like the smile of a friend.

"Wait," said the child. "Before we go anywhere, I want to know whether the sky really is falling. Chicken Little, show me where it hit you."

The birds looked at one another. Then, a little shyly, they turned around and walked back to the oak grove, with the child leading the way.

Under the old oak the acorn was still lying in the grass. The child picked it up and held it beside a branch above. There, among the green leaves, hung dozens of acorns just like it, round and brown with tiny caps.

"Look," said the child. "This is an acorn from the oak. When one is ready, it drops. That is what landed on your head, Chicken Little. It is not the sky at all."

Chicken Little looked at the acorn. She looked up at the sky, which was blue and wide and perfectly whole. "Oh," she said in a small voice. "Oh, my."

"It was a very good bump," said the goose kindly. "It is easy to be frightened when something hits you."

The birds felt much better. They set off again, this time along the clear main road, with the sun on their backs. When the fox saw them, he gave a shrug, turned and trotted away into the trees, because there is little a fox can do with travellers who are paying attention.

In the village the king was sitting in a sunny courtyard, dressed in muted blue. He saw the odd little group coming through the gate and set down his cup.

"Your Majesty," said the child, holding out the acorn, "we came to tell you that the sky was falling. But we checked, and it was only an acorn from the oak."

The king looked at the acorn, then at the five anxious faces, and he smiled warmly. "It is always wise to tell someone when you are worried," he said, "and wiser still to look closely before you decide what is wrong. Thank you for coming. You have all done well."

Then the little group walked home together. Under the oak they spread out a blanket and shared a picnic, while acorns lay scattered on the grass and the blue sky stretched overhead, whole and bright.

Chicken Little nibbled a crumb and looked up at the leaves. "Next time," she said, "I will ask what happened before I decide the sky is falling."

The child laughed and held out another crumb. "That," said the child, "is a very good idea."