Speaker 1: Hello friends, come gather around for lessons on happy ground. With kindness in our hearts, we'll find our way and practice being brave every day. They're Rosado Little Lessons, fun adventures for our friends.

Speaker 2: Hello, friends. I am Ms. Amy, and I have a question for you. What would you do if a circle kept breaking before it could close? Picture yourself on Gingerbrick Roofwalk. Under your feet, the bricks feel bumpy like dried toast. A copper drainpipe hums as if a bee is tucked inside. White chalk dust drifts from a roof ledge. Someone has drawn six careful curves there. But the seventh curve is gone. Who keeps trying to finish it? Her name was Nessa.

Nessa was a secretary bird with long gray legs and black head plumes. She loved drawing toe-circles on old bricks. Each circle began with one neat tap. Then came another tap, and another, until her long toes had marked a white ring. The chalk smelled sharp, like the inside of a wooden pencil box. Friends, Nessa loved circles because they gave each busy roof a place to rest. A circle could hold a bowl, a pot of thyme, or a stack of notes. It could say, This belongs right here. "Tap-tap, my toes know the turn," said Nessa. She tucked a chalk nub under one wing. Then she studied the blank roof ledge. Today, she wanted to draw her widest circle yet.

The blank ledge had room for seven toe-steps. Nessa placed her first mark. Then she placed her second. On the third step, her chalk scraped over a grain of roof grit. The white line jumped sideways. Nessa tried again. It jumped once more. Her black head plumes quivered. "My circle will look like a broken bowl," she said. Her long toes curled against the brick. She stood still while chalk dust settled on her dark feathers. Friends, have you ever wanted something neat, then watched it go wrong? Nessa looked at the six fine curves. The seventh space seemed much too wide.

Nessa did what she always did when a line slipped. She pressed harder. She bent one tall leg. She held the chalk low between two toes. Then she dragged it across the brick with all her care. The chalk made a rough squeak. A thick white clump formed near the grit. Nessa lifted her foot, then set it down again. The clump spread into a crooked smudge. "Tap-tap," she said, but her voice sounded flat. She pressed once more. The chalk nub snapped in two. Nessa sat beside the marks. Her long legs folded under her. She had thought more force would make a clean line. Now she saw that she had not looked at the brick itself.

A round dung beetle came along the drainpipe seam. His name was Merrin. Merrin counted backward whenever he moved. He counted roof tiles, crumbs, steps, and dots on his own shell. "Ten, nine, eight," said Merrin, as he rolled a pea-sized clod of mud. He stopped by Nessa's chalk marks. Friends, Merrin did not point at the smudge. He looked at the bare brick around it. "I count from the end," said Merrin, "when my mud ball nears a crack, I watch the ground ahead." Nessa watched his small legs cross one clean space at a time. She did not know how to fix her circle yet. But she saw the ledge in a new way. It was not only a place for chalk. It was a place that had to be ready for chalk. Her curled toes loosened against the brick.

Nessa picked up the larger chalk piece. This time, she did not begin with a mark. First, she leaned close to the roof ledge. A dry seed husk rested in one crack. She lifted it with the tip of her beak. Grit sat by the drainpipe. She brushed it aside with three light toe-sweeps. A red brick crumb lay near her first curve. Nessa nudged it away. Gray pits and rust-brown specks showed on the bare brick. She drew one small test curve. It slid without skipping. Nessa placed her toes at the start of the wide circle. She tapped the first mark. Then she tapped the second. At the sixth mark, her chalk neared the empty space where every line had broken before. Nessa held her foot above the brick, one toe-step from the end.

Nessa lowered her foot. The chalk slid across the cleared brick in one smooth bend. It met the first mark with a tiny white touch. The circle was whole. Friends, Nessa did not hop at once. She looked down at it. The line was not thick. It was not crooked. It looped around the roof space like a bright chalk fence. Her head plumes settled behind her. "Tap-tap, my toes know the turn," said Nessa. This time, she knew something more. Her toes could make the line. But her careful looking had made room for it. Merrin counted backward as he went on. Nessa watched him leave, then swept one more clean space for tomorrow.

"Nessa learned that day that readying her space helped her work with care." And friends, I think we all work with more ease when we ready the space before we start.
"Thank you so much for listening today, friends. I am Ms. Amy, and remember - here at Rosado Little Lessons, every little story carries a big lesson. Until next time, clear, steady, and begin!"

Speaker 1: Our story's over. Hip hooray. Hope you learned something new today. So come on back and join the fun. More lessons for everyone. Rosado Little Lessons. See you next time, everyone.