The Beach House

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Once, along a beach, not far from forest grounds, there stood a beautiful beach house. Although it was small, it was just right for a person to spend a holiday there, and that person was Mr. Jones.

The beach house was a gift from Grandpa Jones. Grandpa Jones grew up in a town near the ocean and loved taking long walks in the forest.

Since he was a young boy, the forest was always a magical place for Grandpa Jones. The forest was always full of life, beauty and wonder.

He loved the little squirrels that always gathered nibbles. He loved the birds and bees, flying in the ocean breeze.

He loved the moss and ferns, and vines that twist and turn. But most of all, He loved the tall and mighty, wise and gentle old trees.

For years Grandpa Jones would talk to the trees, and they would always smile calmly, swaying their leaves gently in the wind. Whenever he felt sad or tired, a walk in the forest always made him happy and healthy again.

Grandpa Jones knew the forest took care of him, and he loved taking care of the forest too. Some days, he would plant new trees and gave little animals new homes.

One night, a great big storm came pouring down on the forest! There were thunderclouds and lighting, and strong gusts of winds. All the animals were so scared that they hid in their homes all night long.

The winds were so strong that the squirrels lost all their nibbles. The winds were so strong that the birds and bees struggled to fly. The winds were so strong that the plants tangled into scribbles. The winds were so strong that the trees started to fall and cry.

The next day when the storm had passed, Grandpa Jones ran into the forest to check on his forest friends.

When he saw the trees that had fallen, he was so sad that he broke down into tears and cried with them all day long.

After thinking for days, Grandpa Jones decided he would give a new life to these fallen old trees and build a home for himself by the sea – a small wooden beach house.

He spent years building the house by himself. He treated the trees with love and care, and lived in his wooden beach house for a long, long time before giving it to Mr. Jones.

Now, Mr. Jones enjoyed staying by the beach, but not in the old rotting beach house. So he knocked down the old beach house, and spent years designing this new one. Mr. Jones worked hard to make sure his new house was perfect and would not rot like the old beach house. So, the walls were made to look like wood, but it was not wood.

All the materials and furniture for his house were brought from far, far away. Tonight, he is finally spending his first holiday here. But something else is happening here tonight... Something quite magical‌

Brrr… Bisss… Crackle and hiss… A tiny ball of fire opened his eyes to the world. He nestled within the fireplace, nibbling eagerly at fire logs, and as he was enjoying his first meal, he looked around for the very first time.

A fluffy white sofa sat on top of colorful threaded rugs. Big glass windows with steel frames hid behind thin laced curtains. The concrete floor sparkled as light and shadow danced all across it.

The ball of fire loved everything in his home and the fire place that surrounds him. But most of all, he loved his new friends that lived on the tall white walls.

There were tiny rubber fishes, that swam in golden dishes. A big iron whale, with two fins and a tail.

Glass starfishes, with little smiling faces. And a shiny plastic seagull, hanging by a nail.

The fireball tried to talk to his new friends, but for some reason, they never said a word. He blazed and crackled, he huffed and puffed, but his new friends did not move at all.

The fireball did not mind, he was still happy with his new friends in his new home.

But, there was one thing in the room that just looked different: An old wooden door that stood quietly on the opposite wall. The dirty door had carvings of flowers and leaves, and her edges were slowly rotting away.

“Hello little fireball, welcome to your new home,” said the old door. “Surely Mr. Jones will get rid of you one day, you look too ugly to be with the rest of my friends in my beautiful beach house,” snapped the fireball. The old wooden door smiled softly. And from then on, the fireball never spoke to her again.

Years passed, and the fireball was comfortable in his new home. Once a month, he would wake up every night for a few nights to chat with his friends. And although they never said a word, he was happy nonetheless.

The old wooden door would stand quietly across the room, listening to the waves singing next to her.

One night, as the fireball was just waking up, he heard a loud SLAM, and Mr. Jones was nowhere to be seen. He continued to crackle and blaze, enjoyed his meal and chatted with his friends. The windows were slightly opened that night, and for the first time, he listened to the waves singing near the beach house. The fireball was happy.

Suddenly, a stack of papers was blown and scattered all across the room. The fireball was excited as he was eager to meet these new flying friends. He reached out and hugged the first piece of paper that landed in his fire place.

To his surprise, he could touch and hold the paper for a while before it broke into two. He also felt stronger and brighter after touching the paper, something he had never experienced before. Then, the fireball had an idea.

He climbed on to the half of the paper and waited for the next gust of wind to blow. WOOOOOOOOSSHHHHHH!!

The fireball was blown high into the air! He grabbed on to the paper firmly as he tumbled and tossed in circles. He waved to his friends as he floated gently downwards, landing at the edge of the tall white walls.

The fireball was excited as he started climbing slowly up the walls to meet his friends. The higher he climbed, the bigger he became. The more he touched, the stronger he grew. The brighter he burned, the hungrier he felt.

By the time he reached his friends, the fireball had crazy in his eyes!

He swallowed the rubber fishes, that swam in golden dishes. He chomped on the iron whale, and ate her fins and tail.

He cracked the glass starfishes, and broke their smiling faces. He melted the plastic seagull, which fell down from his nail.

The fire loved feeling powerful and got greedier and greedier. His beautiful home was burning but the fire did not care. He was strong and powerful, and he was glowing brighter than the moon and stars. He looked at the waves crashing next to him but he did not mind at all.

The fire was happy as he used up all of his friends, but there was one thing in the house that just felt different: The old wooden door that stood quietly on the entrance wall.

The fire laughed as he approached the rotting door, ready to eat her up. But as he came closer, he noticed a small signature that says: “Carved by Grandpa Jones�. He climbed up carefully to admire the flowers and leaves engraved into the wood.

The old wooden door said to the fire: “Hello little fireball, oh my, how you have grown! Do you realize that you have eaten up all of your friends? And after finishing me, you will have nothing left!”

“I don’t care,” said the fire, “I feel strong and bright and powerful!”

The old wooden door smiled softly and said: “Little fireball, everything in this world is connected in a magical way. The moon makes waves in the ocean so that they can sing and dance.

The water rises up to the sky so that they become fluffy clouds. The clouds send water back down when it rains so that the forest grows big and healthy. The forest gives you oxygen so that you can burn bright.

You are connected to this magical world too! But be careful, without your friends and the trees, you will dissapear too!�

The fireball laughed and said: “What nonsense! I will prove you wrong!

Now that I have eaten up all my friends, I will eat up the trees! I have the whole world at my disposal! �

The old door replied: “Oh fireball, you do not see! This magical world is created for you and me, and all the living creatures of this earth. But to keep this magic healthy, we must all love and respect each other.

Your greed will bring harm to all of us, but it will harm you the most!�

The fire was so angry that he ate the wooden door in one big bite! He crackled and blazed as his home crumbled beneath him.

Slowly, he realized he was getting weaker and weaker. The trees were too far away from him, and he had nothing left. He tried eating the sand, but it did not help at all. He tried eating the waves but the waves ate him instead!

The fireball became smaller and smaller as the winds blew all the ashes away. He sat on the beach in regret when he realized that he had gone too far. With every breath, he noticed that the trees were still giving him oxygen, but his greed harmed his friends and himself.

The fireball finally understood what the old door was saying as he looked around carefully at this big, magical world for the very last time.


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