Franklin helped Harriet make a card, but he did most of the work.
Sometimes he wished he was little like Harriet. She never worried about anything.
Early the next morning, Franklin had an idea.
He would do everything his friends suggested.
He made his mother a pretty brooch.
He drew her a picture with double X’s and O’s.
He cut fresh flowers from her garden.
And he put her breakfast on a tray.
Franklin tried his very best.
Franklin and Harriet sang “Happy Birthday” to their mother.
Then she ate her breakfast in bed and brushed away the crumbs.
She pinned her brooch on her pajamas.
She said she loved Harriet’s card, Franklin’s picture and the tool kit from Franklin’s father.
“You’ve made this a wonderful day,” said Franklin’s mother.
But Franklin wasn’t finished giving presents. He planned one more thing — something he’d thought of all by himself.
Franklin gave his mother a hug and a kiss, and then he said, “I love you.”
“Those three little words are better than any fancy present,” said Franklin’s mother.
Right then, Franklin knew he’d found the best way of all to show his mother he loved her.
For my neighbour, Amanda — P.B.
For my mother, who still worries about thunderstorms — B.C.
Franklin and the Thunderstorm
Written by Paulette Bourgeois
Illustrated by Brenda Clark
Kids Can Press
FRANKLIN could count by twos and tie his shoes. He could name the months of the year and all the seasons. He could read the thermometer, and he checked the barometer every day. Franklin worried about the weather because he was afraid of storms.
One day, Franklin was supposed to play at Fox’s house, but the sky was getting dark and the clouds were thick.
“Maybe I shouldn’t go,” Franklin said to his mother.
She looked out the window. “It probably won’t rain until later,” she said. “You have time to get to Fox’s.”
Franklin put on his boots and took the umbrella.
As Franklin hurried to Fox’s house, he kept looking at the sky. The clouds moved quickly, and wind swirled dirt in the air.
Franklin felt all jumpy inside.
Fox was playing outside when Franklin arrived.
Franklin pointed nervously to the sky. “I think we should go inside, don’t you?” he asked.
“Not yet.” Fox grinned. “I love watching the clouds move and feeling the wind blow. It’s exciting!”
“I think it’s scary,” said Franklin.
Beaver, Snail and Hawk came over to play, too.
“My fur feels funny when it’s about to storm,” said Fox.
“My feathers get all ruffled,” said Hawk.
Beaver sniffed. “I can smell a storm coming.”
The wind became stronger.
Hawk flew loop-the-loops. “Whee!” he cried.
Franklin held on to his hat and shivered.
It was almost as dark as night when big fat raindrops began to fall.
“We should go in!” shouted Franklin.
“No,” said Fox. “Follow me.”
They raced to the tree house, where it was dry.
“Fox!” called his mother. “Time for everyone to come in.”
“It’s all right,” Fox shouted back. “We’re in the tree.”
Fox’s mother was there in a second. “It’s dangerous to be near a tree during a storm,” she said. “Lightning strikes tall things first, and you might get hurt.”
Franklin held on to Fox’s mother all the way from the tree to the house. They were barely in the door when there was a flash of zigzag light.
“Lightning!” shrieked Franklin. He trembled.
KA-BOOM!
“Thunder!” he screamed.
“It’s okay, Franklin,” said his friends. “We’re safe here.”
But Franklin had crawled deep inside his shell.
Fox’s mother brought treats. Still, Franklin wouldn’t come out.
Franklin’s friends begged him to play. But Franklin stayed put.
Then, with a flash and a crash, the lights went out.
“Don’t worry,” said Fox’s mother. She lit candles and turned on a flashlight.
“Won’t you come out now?” she asked Franklin.
“No thank you,” he mumbled.
“Don’t be afraid,” said Hawk. “All that noise is just cloud giants playing drums in the sky.”
Franklin peeked out. “Really?” he asked.
“No it’s not,” giggled Snail. “That noise is made when the giants go bowling.”
Franklin came out of his shell. “But what about the lightning?”
“That’s easy,” said Hawk. “The cloud giants are turning their lights on and off.”
Fox smiled. “I think it’s the giants swinging from their chandeliers.”
Franklin laughed.
“Giants! That’s ridiculous,” said Beaver. “Mr. Owl says lightning is a big spark of electricity that travels from the sky to the ground. The spark is so hot that it makes the air around it POP! That’s the sound of thunder.”
“Amazing!” said Franklin.
Franklin felt a little better. He even played flashlight tag with his friends.
Soon, there was hardly any lightning. The thunder was a low rumble from far away, and the rain stopped.
Then the lights went on.
“Storm’s over!” said Fox. “Let’s go outside and play.”
“Look,” said Franklin. “A rainbow!”
“I know why the storm is over,” Franklin said. “Those giants heard there’s a pot of gold at the end of every rainbow, and they’ve gone to find it.”
Even Beaver had to smile.
Franklin is a trademark of Kids Can Press Ltd.
All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this ebook onscreen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of the publisher.
Text © 1986, 2011 (Franklin in the Dark); 2002 (Franklin Says I Love You); 1998 (Franklin and the Thunderstorm) by Contextx Inc.
Illustrations © 1986, 1991, 1994, 1995, 1996, 1997, 1998, 2000, 2002, 2011 (Franklin in the Dark); 2002 (Franklin Says I Love You); 1998 (Franklin and the Thunderstorm) by Brenda Clark Illustrator Inc.
ISBN: 978-1-4532-1727-6
Originally published by Kids Can Press Ltd.
25 Dockside Drive
Toronto, ON M5A 0B5
www.kidscanpress.com
This 2011 edition distributed by Open Road Integrated Media
180 Varick Street
New York, NY 10014
www.openroadmedia.com
Franklin in the Dark, Franklin Says I Love You, and Franklin and the Thunderstorm Page 2
