It was mid-November, and fall had arrived. The rural landscape had fallen under its spell. Foliage showed off shades of red, gold, and orange. Crops of fruits and vegetables stood tall and proud after months of growth. At four o’clock, Farmer Peterson’s truck grumbled over the bridge overlooking his farm. Beyond the bridge, a creek ran through a large, wooded area shaded by trees. Here, small noises echoed: a crow’s caw, leaves rustled by some rabbit’s scamper, or the sudden plop of a nut.

The latter of these sounds alerted local squirrels to where it fell. Tiny paws scurried across the ground and pattered atop long branches. They scampered down tree trunks in spirals. All this activity so they could gather nuts for their harvests. When winter befell the land, each filled up on private stashes to avoid starvation. One of these creatures, named Hazel, also searched. She stored all kinds, from acorns to butternuts. The most delectable were chestnuts. Any forest denizen would give up their bushy tails to eat one.

At last, Hazel reached the area where she had buried her collection and pawed at the dirt. There was nothing in the hole. Surprised, she checked the other spots, and they were empty as well.

Hazel eyed the other squirrels with suspicion; theft was not uncommon. Suddenly, human footsteps sounded. The animals scattered. A rugged man whistling, collected chestnuts, including Hazel’s, never noticing the disappointed glares from hiding eyes. It was one thing to steal from a fellow squirrel, but when committed by a human, retribution was in order.

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“What a haul!” The man, Jeremy, exclaimed. He sat at the kitchen table and counted one hundred eighty nuts. “This will make delicious Thanksgiving stuffing! That’ll show Cousin Wendy she’s not the only cook!”

Suddenly, the lights went out. Jeremy remained unconcerned. “There must be an outage; it’ll return soon.” Ten minutes later, there was still no power, and darkness crept further inside as the sun sank. He checked the fuse box. Using a flashlight, he proceeded to the basement and discovered that the lever was down. Jeremy pushed it up, but as he turned to leave, it dropped again.

“What the hell?” Jeremy set it back up again, this time not letting the lever go, and felt tiny claws on his hands. He shone the light on the culprits, three squirrels, who chirped and bit his fingers. “Yeouch!” Jeremy cried and saw more squirrels had entered through the basement window. Confusion gave way to fear as the creatures advanced towards him. He ran back up the steps and closed the door.

Jeremy mopped his brow, then heard tiny teeth chewing on the door. Soon, cracks appeared in the frame, and furry heads poked out. “Nope!” He ran to the kitchen to find a reddish squirrel sitting up on the table, surrounded by chestnuts. She chirped loudly. Dozens of relatives entered. They pinned Jeremy to the linoleum.

“Please! Don’t hurt me! I have company coming over! I want them to eat up, not throw up!” He teared up.

Hazel sighed, then bopped Jeremy’s forehead with a large nut. It took the puzzled man a few minutes to piece together what they wanted.

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On Thanksgiving Eve, Jeremy greeted his family.

“Well, Jeremy,” Cousin Wendy said, “I admit that you’re an amazing cook. The stuffing is delicious! Sorry for doubting you.”

Jeremy beamed. “It’s no trouble! I’m so glad you enjoyed it!”

“Hey, Uncle Jeremy, what are these for?” Little Polly asked, pointing to two large pails filled with nuts and bread.

“Oh, they’re for some friends.” Jeremy tugged at his collar, picked up both buckets and walked outside. He left them in a forest clearing, then hurried back home to serve dessert.

Soon after, the squirrels, led by Hazel, happily devoured their meal. Sharing brought peace, and Hazel enjoyed her chestnuts at last.

Reader, if you’re ever in the woods with nuts strewn about, don’t steal them. Sharing with nature is better than becoming a target.

Editor: Lucy Cafiero