Once upon a time there was a family of Grumps. Papa Grump, Mama Grump, Sister Grump, and Brother Grump. Everyday they would grump at each other from morning to night.

Papa grumped at breakfast, “My porridge is too hot!”

Brother grumped at lunch, “My soup is too cold!”

Sister grumped at dinner, “It’s no fair. Brother got a bigger piece of cake than me!”

As for Mama Grump, she would roll her eyes, bang the plates down hard, and grumble, “If you don’t like what you’ve got, go fix it yourself!”

No one ever said, “Thank you!” No one ever said, “Please!” No one ever said, “I’m sorry!”

As you can imagine, all that grumping had a terrible effect upon the Grumps looks. Their faces were wrinkled up sourly, as if they’d been sucking on lemons. Their hair stuck out in all different directions because of their pulling at it in fits of temper. When they walked, their heads hung down so low, all they could see were their belly buttons; so every other step they would bump into something, getting scrapes and bruises on top of scrapes and bruises. It’s no wonder the Grumps hardly ever looked at each other.

The Grumps lived in the middle of a dense and gloomy woods. Under the great trees night and day seemed almost the same, except for the chill that night brought with it. Mama Grump often warned Brother and Sister not to wander away from the house, because they could get lost so easily in the dark tangle of trees and underbrush.

One morning Sister was feeling particularly grumpy. Brother Grump had stepped on her mud pie, because she had broken his stick, because he said, “You smell!” because she had sat on him thinking he was a mossy rock. Sister decided that she was going to leave her family to go wherever she pleased on her own.

So she headed into the woods muttering to herself, tripping over tree roots, scraping against pricker bushes, and aimlessly wandering this way and that, until her head bumped up against a tree. “Waaaaaah!” Sister stumbled, fell backwards, and landed hard on her sitter. She looked up ready to let loose a terrible grump at the tree, when “huh!” she saw something she had never seen. Before her was a small clearing, and stretching from the tops of the trees to the patch of ground in front of her were bright shafts of light.

Sister forgot all about her grumble. Looking into the brightness she could see the green of leaves, the yellow and blue of flowers, and a sudden flash of red as a bird flew past. She picked herself up and lurched forward into the light, feeling its warmth upon her.

In the middle of the clearing sister stumbled upon a spring. As she peered down into the calm water at its edge, she was startled by a dirty, twisted face peering back at her. At first she drew back, but then she realized the face was her own. Full of wonder, she began to smooth back her hair, and wash the dirt off her skin. Ever so slowly, her mouth untwisted and began to curve up at the corners while a good feeling warmed inside her.

Suddenly Sister wanted her family with her. She hurried back through the darkness and prickers trying to remember the way she had come. She would surely have been lost forever if her family’s grumping hadn’t been so loud, penetrating even the darkest and densest of thickets. Led on by her Papa’s roar, “Who’s been sitting in my chair?” she reached the house at last.

Sister rushed through the door. In her haste she knocked over Brother’s chair, and one of its rockers came off. “Look, my chair’s all broken! Sister did it!” Brother wailed.

“I’m sorry!” said Sister.

Mama, Papa, and Brother all stopped and stared at her in surprise. There she was all smiling and shining at them like she’d discovered the bees secret for making honey.

Somehow Sister managed to lead her family back through the tangled darkness to the clearing of light. Perhaps it was the red bird who signalled the way. Finally, there the Grumps were; blinking in the bright light, surprised by beauty, and warmed to their forgotten hearts. It wasn’t long before Papa, Mama, Brother, and Sister were all splashing and preening in the spring water, delighted with themselves and each other.

From that day on the Grumps made their home in the light. They held their heads up when they walked, hardly ever tripped, and looked upon each other with new warmth. They said, “Thank you!” “Please!’ and “I’m sorry!” quite often. In fact they were no longer Grumps. On their mailbox they printed in neat letters “Smith.”