A children’s story - Everything is connected in nature

Vitaly Bianki "Owl"

An Old Man sits, drinking tea. He doesn't drink it empty - he whitens it with milk. An Owl flies by.
- Hello, - he says, - friend!
And the Old Man to him:
- You, Owl, - a desperate head, ears sticking up, nose hooked. You hide from the sun, avoid people - what kind of friend am I to you!
The Owl got angry.
- Okay, - he says, - old man! I won't fly to your meadow at night to catch mice - catch them yourself.
And the Old Man:
- See what you decided to scare me with! Run away while you're still in one piece.
The Owl flew away, climbed into an oak tree, and won't fly anywhere from the hollow. Night has come.
In the old man's meadow, mice whistle and call to each other in their holes:
- Look, godmother, is there an Owl flying by - a desperate head, ears erect, nose hooked?
Mouse Mice in response:
- I don't see an Owl, I don't hear an Owl. Today we have plenty of freedom in the meadow, today we have plenty of freedom in the meadow.
The mice jumped out of their holes, the mice ran across the meadow.
And the Owl from the hollow:
- Ho-ho-ho, Old Man! Watch out, lest something bad happen: the mice, they say, have gone hunting.
- Let them go, - says the Old Man. - I guess mice are not wolves, they won't kill the heifers.
The mice are prowling around the meadow, looking for bumblebee nests, digging the earth, catching bumblebees.
And the Owl from the hollow:
- Ho-ho-ho, Old Man! Watch out, lest it get worse: all your bumblebees have flown away.
- Let them fly, - says the Old Man. - What good are they: neither honey nor wax, only blisters.
There is a forage clover in the meadow, hanging head down to the ground, and the bumblebees are buzzing, flying away from the meadow, not looking at the clover, not carrying pollen from flower to flower.
And the Owl from the hollow:
- Ho-ho-ho, Old Man! Watch out, lest it get worse: lest you yourself have to carry pollen from flower to flower.
- And the wind will carry it, - says the Old Man, scratching the back of his head.
The wind walks across the meadow, scattering pollen to the ground. If pollen does not fall from flower to flower, the clover will not grow in the meadow; The Old Man doesn't like it.
And the Owl from the hollow:
- Ho-ho-ho, Old Man! Your cow moos, asking for clover, - grass, listen, without clover, like porridge without butter.
The Old Man is silent, says nothing. The Cow was healthy with clover, the Cow began to grow thin, began to reduce her milk; she licks the swill, but the milk is thinner and thinner.
And the Owl from the hollow:
- Ho-ho-ho, Old Man! I told you: you will come to me to bow.
The Old Man scolds, but things are not going well. The Owl sits in the oak, does not catch mice. Mice prowl the meadow, looking for bumblebee nests. Bumblebees walk in other people's meadows, but do not look at the old man's meadow. Clover does not grow in the meadow. The cow grows thin without clover. The Cow has little milk. So the Old Man has nothing to whiten his tea with.
The Old Man had nothing to whiten his tea with, so the Old Man went to bow to the Owl:
- Oh, little Owl-widow, help me out of trouble: I, an old man, have nothing to whiten my tea with.
And the Owl from the hollow with her big eyes lop-lop, with her big feet tup-tup.
- That's it, - he says, - old man. Together, not too heavy, but apart, at least throw. Do you think it's easy for me without your mice?
The Owl forgave the Old Man, climbed out of the hollow, and flew to the meadow to scare the mice.
The Owl flew to catch the mice. The mice hid in their holes out of fear. The bumblebees buzzed over the meadow, began to fly from flower to flower.
The red clover began to fill out in the meadow. The Cow went to the meadow to chew the clover. The Cow has a lot of milk. The Old Man began to whiten the tea with milk, whiten the tea - to praise the Owl, to invite him to visit, to respect him.