This is Ria. Welcome to Little Stories for Tiny People. I have a guest. Kind of. You see, I haven't had a guest in my studio in a while, and I suppose I wanted to ease back into it by having a quieter guest, someone who might simply listen and not offer a ton of commentary, if that makes sense. So, please give a hearty welcome to Tanya,

the sponge. Now you might be thinking, Ria, I use a sponge to clean the pots and pans

after dinner without being asked to. Sponges cannot be guests in studios. But I'm not talking about a dish sponge.

Tanya is a sea sponge, and she is, indeed, an animal. Right now, she's in a lovely seawater tank right next to me, so she cannot knock over anything

important, like my stack of breakable plates. Also, she can't say anything, which is a pleasant

bonus. Basically, she'll listen and exist while I tell you a story, which is really what I'm going for today.

Let's get to our story.

It's called The Forest Apothecary.

Take it away, Iolet.

Remember, there are no pictures.

You have to imagine the pictures in your mind. You can imagine them however you want. Okay, here we go.

Goldie could still remember vividly the day her gray-whiskered grandfather put a shaky paw on her shoulder, looked into her eyes, and said,

Goldie, my dear, you have the touch. She had protested. Oh, had she protested. Grandfather, I think you're mistaken. I don't know the first

thing about being an apothecary. He'd simply laughed, warmly, and shrugged. You'll learn. I knew less

than nothing when I started.

Grandfather Raccoon had 43 grandchildren to choose from,

to carry on the family tradition, handed down through the generations,

but he chose her.

Goldie had indeed learned.

She had, over many years, become the most trusted apothecary in the forest, known for her encyclopedic knowledge of illnesses and their symptoms, as well as the corresponding herbal mixtures and salves that

provided relief. Forest creatures came to her when no one else could help them. And somehow,

now, all these years later, years that showed in her own gray whiskers and in her achy right knee,

...