The Bear Who Shared His Last Marshmallow
- LettersLetter
- May 28
- 5 min read
The fire made soft crackling sounds.
Mallow the bear sat close to it. He held a small bag in his paw.
He shook it.
Shake, shake.
He peeked inside.
He blinked.
“Oh,” he said softly.
“There is only one left.”
He tipped the bag upside down.
One round, white marshmallow fell into his paw.
Mallow looked at it for a long time.
“Hello,” he said.
The marshmallow did not answer.
Mallow smiled anyway.
“You are my last marshmallow.”
He picked up a small stick.
Very slowly, he pushed the marshmallow onto the tip.
“There,” he said.
“Just right.”
He leaned closer to the fire.
The flames flickered orange and gold.
Mallow held the stick out.
“Not too close,” he whispered.
“Not too far.”
He turned the stick a little.
The marshmallow began to warm.
Mallow’s nose twitched.
“Soon,” he said.
“Very soon.”
A soft breeze brushed past him.
The leaves whispered.
The fire danced.
Mallow did not look away.
“Almost,” he said.
The breeze grew stronger.
The trees swayed.
The fire flickered faster.
Mallow blinked.
“Hm,” he said.
The wind gave a sudden push.
WHOOSH!
The marshmallow slipped off the stick.
It flew into the air.
Mallow gasped.
“My marshmallow!”
He jumped to his feet.
The marshmallow bounced once on the ground.
Then it rolled.
Then it kept going.
“Wait!” Mallow called.
He hurried after it.
The marshmallow rolled over a root.
It popped into the air again.
“Come back!” Mallow said.
A blur of gray zipped past him.
“I’ll get it!” shouted Fizz.
Fizz the rabbit dashed ahead.
His feet moved very fast.
“I see it! I see it!”
Fizz leaped.
He stretched out his paws.
He missed.
“Oh!”
He landed in a bush.
The bush shook.
Leaves flew everywhere.
The marshmallow bounced off a rock.
It rolled the other way.
Mallow hurried after it again.
Fizz popped out of the bush.
“I meant to do that!” he said.
“You did not,” said a smooth voice.
Slyra the fox stepped onto the path.
Her tail swayed behind her.
“This is clearly a problem that needs a plan,” she said.
“No time!” Mallow said.
“It’s getting away!”
Slyra lifted a paw.
“Step one,” she said.
“No steps!” Fizz shouted.
He ran again.
Slyra sighed.
“Fine. We do it the fast way.”
She darted forward.
The marshmallow rolled down a small hill.
Mallow followed.
Fizz slipped past him.
Slyra tried to cut ahead.
They all bumped into each other.
Bump!
Thump!
Oof!
The marshmallow popped into the air again.
It landed near a tree.
A small shape dropped from above.
“Ooo! What’s that?” said Skitter.
Skitter the squirrel grabbed the marshmallow.
He stared at it.
“It’s round,” he said.
“And soft.”
“That’s mine!” Mallow said.
“Oh!” Skitter said.
He blinked.
“Right.”
He tossed it up.
Then he looked at something else.
“Wait. Did I leave an acorn over there?”
The marshmallow fell.
It hit the ground.
It rolled away again.
“Oh!” Skitter said.
“Marshmallow!”
He chased after it.
Then he stopped.
“Acorn?”
Then he ran again.
“Marshmallow!”
Mallow hurried after them.
“Please don’t lose it!”
A loud voice echoed nearby.
“What is all this noise?”
Quabble the duck waddled out of the grass.
He looked at the group.
He looked at the marshmallow.
He frowned.
“This better be important,” he said.
“It is!” Mallow said.
“It’s my last marshmallow!”
Quabble’s eyes widened.
“Your last one?”
“Yes!”
Quabble puffed up.
“Well then,” he said, “you clearly need help.”
“I am very helpful.”
“You just got here,” Fizz said.
“I am still helpful,” Quabble replied.
The marshmallow rolled toward a stream.
“Oh no,” Mallow said.
“Not the water.”
Quabble waved a wing.
“This way,” he said.
“I know a shortcut.”
He stepped onto a stone.
He slipped.
Splash!
Cold water sprayed everywhere.
“QUABBLE!” Fizz shouted.
“I meant to do that!” Quabble said.
“You did not,” said Slyra.
Mallow stepped carefully onto a stone.
Fizz hopped across quickly.
Skitter jumped, then stopped.
“Water,” he said.
“Shiny.”
“Skitter!” Mallow called.
The marshmallow rolled over the last stone.
It reached the other side.
Everyone hurried after it.
They climbed up a small hill.
The marshmallow slowed.
It wobbled.
It stopped.
Mallow reached it.
He picked it up.
He held it tight.
“Oh,” he said softly.
“I got it back.”
Fizz ran up.
“I helped,” he said.
“I almost had it.”
Slyra stepped closer.
“My plan worked,” she said.
“You did not have a plan,” Fizz said.
“I was about to,” Slyra replied.
Skitter looked around.
“Did we find it?” he asked.
Quabble shook water from his feathers.
“I am very wet,” he said.
“This was not a good shortcut.”
A small voice spoke behind them.
“We chased one marshmallow.”
They all turned.
Thimble the hedgehog stood nearby.
“We made a lot of noise,” Thimble said.
“And a lot of mess.”
Fizz looked at his feet.
They were muddy.
Quabble looked at his feathers.
They were dripping.
Slyra’s tail had leaves in it.
Skitter had a twig stuck to his head.
Mallow looked at the marshmallow.
It was a little squished.
But it was still there.
Everyone looked at it.
No one spoke.
“I think,” Fizz said slowly, “I should have it.”
“I ran the fastest.”
“No,” said Slyra.
“I was the smartest.”
“I held it,” said Skitter.
“I found a shortcut,” said Quabble.
“It was not a good one,” said Thimble.
Mallow looked at all of them.
He opened his mouth.
Then he closed it.
He looked at the marshmallow again.
“It’s very small,” he said.
“Yes,” said Quabble.
“So I should have it.”
“No,” said Fizz.
“Me!”
“No, me,” said Slyra.
“Wait,” said Skitter.
“What are we talking about?”
“Marshmallow!” everyone said.
“Oh!” said Skitter.
“Right!”
Mallow took a slow breath.
He looked at his friends.
He looked at the hill.
He looked back toward the fire.
“Come,” he said.
“Let’s go back.”
They followed him.
No one argued.
Not this time.
They walked together.
Step by step.
Back through the trees.
Back over the stones.
Back to the clearing.
The fire still glowed.
Soft and warm.
Mallow sat down.
The others sat with him.
The marshmallow rested in his paw.
Everyone leaned closer.
“What now?” Fizz asked.
Mallow smiled.
“We share it,” he said.
Quabble blinked.
“All of us?”
“Yes,” said Mallow.
“It is small,” said Slyra.
“We will make it work,” Mallow said.
Skitter nodded.
“I like sharing,” he said.
“I think.”
Fizz grinned.
“Okay,” he said.
Mallow broke the marshmallow.
It stretched.
It pulled.
It made tiny, sticky pieces.
“One for you,” he said.
“One for you.”
He passed each piece around.
Fizz took a bite.
“Small,” he said.
“But good.”
Slyra tasted hers.
“Hm,” she said.
“Not bad.”
Skitter ate his quickly.
“Gone,” he said.
“Wait. Did I eat it?”
“Yes,” said Thimble.
Quabble nibbled his piece.
He paused.
Then he smiled a little.
“Alright,” he said.
“That was nice.”
Mallow ate his piece last.
He looked at the fire.
He looked at his friends.
“It tastes better,” he said softly.
“Together.”
No one argued.
No one rushed.
The fire crackled.
The night grew quiet.
Fizz yawned.
“That was fun,” he said.
Slyra curled her tail.
“My plan worked,” she said.
“You still did not have one,” Fizz said.
Skitter looked around.
“Did we have a marshmallow?” he asked.
Quabble huffed.
“Yes,” he said.
“And I got wet for it.”
Thimble smiled.
“We all did something,” he said.
Mallow leaned back.
The stars shone above them.
The fire glowed low.
His paws felt warm.
His heart felt full.
The empty bag rested beside him.
He looked at it.
Then he looked at his friends.
He smiled.
The night grew softer.
The forest grew still.
And by the quiet fire,
They stayed close together.
The LettersLetter "Free Bedtime Stories Club" Team
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