Since Beavers love stories, here's one from a Northwest
Territories Council bulletin, complete with a bad witch.
Once upon a time, there was a tiny village nestled between two
mountains. Each person in the village was very happy because he
was given a bag of Warm Fuzzies at birth. You could reach into
your bag and pull out a Warm Fuzzy whenever you wanted, and
everybody wanted to all the time. Warm Fuzzies were given to
other people on the street, at home, everywhere. Warm Fuzzies
made you feel just like they sound - warm, happy and contented.
Everyone in the village was happy, everyone but the bad witch.
Now we all know that bad witches are growly. They like us to be
unhappy, sad. The bad witch in this village was no exception. She
tried and tried to make the people stop giving away Warm Fuzzies.
One day she whispered in the ear of little Johnny Brown, "If you
keep giving away all of your Warm Fuzzies you won't have any left
for yourself." Johnny didn't listen at first, because everyone
always had lots of Warm Fuzzies. The more you gave away, the more
you got. Then the witch said to Johnny, "If you give COLD
PRICKLIES you will be able to keep all of your Warm Fuzzies."
Well, Johnny got to thinking about this, and noticed that his
mother was always giving away Warm Fuzzies. So was his father,
and his sister. Soon he thought they would have no more for him.
So Johnny started saving his Warm Fuzzies and started giving COLD
PRICKLIES. Soon the whole village was giving COLD PRICKLIES.
Everyone was gloomy and sad and very grouchy. The village was no
longer happy, and there wasn't a Warm Fuzzy to be found!
This had been going on for years and years, and the wicked witch
was very happy. One day an old man came to visit the village.
When he spoke to anyone they frowned at him and turned their
backs, often walked away. The old man continued to be friendly,
polite, pleasant, and one day a very young boy smiled back at the
old man. It made him feel good - so good that he patted his dog,
and the dog didn't bite him! This was the first Warm Fuzzy given
in some time, and the little boy dug into his bag of Warm
Fuzzies, as they were much nicer than the COLD PRICKLIES, and he
started giving them away. The townspeople grumbled and growled
for a while, but soon they felt like giving Warm Fuzzies. One by
one people went home to find their Warm Fuzzies and soon everyone
was again giving Warm Fuzzies. The bad witch was so upset and
disgusted that she left the village and took her COLD PRICKLIES.
After all, they didn't stand a chance against Warm Fuzzies.
To this day that village is happy and contented. Maybe, just
maybe, if we give enough Warm Fuzzies our world can be as happy
and pleasant as that village.