Deep in the heart of the pine forest, where tall trees whispered secrets to the wind and the air smelled of moss and bark, a tiny bear cub named Koda was about to experience the scariest day of his young life.
Koda lived with his mother, a strong and gentle brown bear, in a cozy den tucked under a fallen tree. Every morning, they would go out together to explore, forage for berries, and splash in the river. Koda was playful and curious, always sniffing new things and climbing over logs, while his mother kept a close eye on him.
One bright morning, as golden sunlight streamed through the trees, Koda and his mother set out for the river. It was a beautiful day—the birds chirped cheerfully, and the grass glistened with dew. Koda was particularly energetic that day. While his mother dug for roots, he scampered off toward the sound of buzzing bees.
“I’ll be right here, Mama!” he called.
But as Koda followed the bees, hoping to find a sweet honeycomb, he wandered farther and farther from his mother. He chased butterflies, rolled down a hill, and got completely distracted by a family of chipmunks having a squabble over acorns. When he finally turned around to return, he realized—he had no idea where he was.
The forest suddenly didn’t look friendly anymore. The shadows seemed darker, and the trees felt taller. Koda’s little heart started to pound. He let out a tiny roar—“Rrrawr!”—hoping his mother would hear him. But only the echo of his voice returned.
He was lost.
Panic rose in his chest. Koda ran in one direction, then another, calling for his mama. He sniffed the air, but her scent was gone. He scrambled up a boulder to look around, but all he saw was an endless sea of trees. The forest, which had once felt like a playground, now felt like a maze.
Tears welled up in Koda’s eyes, but he remembered something his mother always told him: “If you ever get lost, stop, breathe, and think.”
So, Koda sat down on a mossy rock, closed his eyes, and took three deep breaths.
Inhale… Exhale.
Inhale… Exhale.
Inhale… Exhale.
Once he calmed down a little, he opened his eyes and listened. The forest had many sounds—birds chirping, wind in the leaves, and the distant burble of the river. “The river!” Koda gasped. If he could find the river, he might find his way back.
Koda carefully made his way toward the sound of water. Along the way, he met a wise old owl perched on a branch.
“Who are you, little one?” the owl hooted.
“I’m Koda, and I’m lost. I can’t find my mama.”
The owl blinked slowly. “Follow the river downstream. Bears like water, and she may be searching for you there.”
Koda thanked the owl and continued. His little legs grew tired, but he didn’t give up. As he walked, he met a deer drinking from the stream.
“Hello,” Koda said shyly.
“Hello, little bear. You look tired.”
“I’m looking for my mama. Have you seen her?”
The deer shook her head gently. “Not today. But don’t worry—mothers never stop looking for their cubs.”
Her words gave Koda hope. He walked a little further, then noticed a familiar scent in the air—berries! And not just any berries, but his favorite kind, the ones his mama always found for him. He followed the scent up a small hill.
Suddenly, from behind the bushes, he heard a loud rustle. His fur stood on end. Then he heard it—a deep, familiar voice calling his name.
“Koda!”
“Mama!” he cried.
He bounded through the bushes, and there she was—his mother, with her worried eyes and big warm paws. Koda rushed into her arms, nuzzling her fur.
“I was so scared,” he sniffled.
“I was too,” she said gently, licking his head. “But I knew you were strong and smart, just like I taught you.”
They sat beside the river, cuddling and watching the sun lower in the sky. Koda told her about the owl, the deer, and how he remembered to stop and think.
“I’m proud of you,” she said.
That night, they returned to their den, safe and together. Koda had learned a lot that day—not just about being brave, but also about staying close, listening carefully, and believing in himself.
And though he still loved chasing butterflies and exploring the woods, he never again wandered too far from his mama.
Because he knew that nothing in the forest—not honey, not chipmunks, not even the most exciting adventure—was as important as being safe, loved, and home.
