Divya Srinivasan

Little Owl enjoys a lovely night in the forest visiting his friend the raccoon, listening to the frogs croak and the crickets chirp, and watching the fog that hovers overhead.

A young narrator describes herself as many things at the same time - a girl, a granddaughter, Indian, American, both selfish and generous, mean and kind - and these seeming contradictions are precisely what makes her a unique individual.

El pequeno buho descansaba en su rama. ELe gustaba tanto el bosque de noche! La rana croaba suavemente, y el grillo cantaba con pasion. "Mama - susurro el pequeno buho - cuentame otra vez como acaba la noche".

Little Owl looks forward to his first snowfall