Milo hopped through the sunny meadow. Tall grass waved beside the friendly forest, and bees hummed among the flowers.
A shy butterfly tumbled into the tall grass. Her wings went flick, flick, but the thick blades blocked her path.
Milo stopped and bent closer. “Try again,” he whispered.
Milo pushed one blade aside with a paw. The butterfly fluttered forward, but another blade sprang back and tickled her wings.
Milo cleared a tiny path, one blade at a time. Swish, swish—the grass opened toward the forest.
A seed puff popped up and dusted Milo’s nose. “Achoo!”
The butterfly gave a small, surprised flutter. Then she waited beside the next clump of grass.
Milo gathered fallen twigs and nudged the last thick stems aside. The butterfly followed the winding path.
Bees buzzed nearby as the butterfly reached the forest edge. Milo watched, ready to help again.
At last, the butterfly lifted above the grass and soared safely home. Golden wings sparkled in the sunlight.
Milo waved as the butterfly disappeared among the trees. Then he hopped along the open path with a bright smile.
The meadow swayed behind him. Ahead, the open path shone all the way home.