They camped out beneath the stars, surrounded by trees and mildly annoying blind gnats. Atticus, the royalty he was, spread out a blanket for himself to sleep on. Bernard climbed a nearby tree and stretched himself across a low hanging branch. He always chose the lowest branch of a tree for sleeping, just in case he fell. He did this ever since he was seven and a bear chased him up an elm tree. Fortunately for the child, this particular bear missed the day of class when all the other little bears were taught about climbing trees. So, he waited up in the tree while the bear waited down on the ground, scratching the bark and gazing up all the while. Being seven and inexperienced in the ways of tree refuge, little Bernard climbed as high as he could before laying down for a nap. It was dark after all, and he was pretty tuckered out from all the running and climbing. But the dummy didn’t secure himself, so all it took was a slight roll to the left to send Bernard plummeting to his doom. He awoke while falling. It was the third most terrifying experience he ever had while waking up. “This is it”, he thought, “I’m going to die. I’m going to fall and break my neck. Mother will be so mad at me.” Then he saw the sleeping bear below him. “Oh good. Maybe I won’t break my neck. Maybe I’ll land safely and that stupid bear will eat me. How did that bear not have anything better to do than wait for me at the bottom of this stupid tree? I hate that bear. I know hate is a strong word and we shouldn’t use it lightly, but I do. I genuinely hate that stupid bear.” And then Bernard landed, right on the only thing he had ever hated. It saved his life too. That stupid bear that he hated so much in the moments leading up to his inevitable demise gave its life, unknowingly, to break his fall. He wanted to thank it for saving his life, for having nothing better to do than wait around to be his living landing pad, but as I told you, it was dead. Bernard dug a six-foot hole in the earth and properly buried the bear. He prayed over its freshly filled grave. He even made one of its dislodged teeth into a necklace as a reminder to always pick the lowest branch. And so he sleeps.

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