The Meeting

Once there was a young wombat named Benson, who lived in a nice little hole in the ground with his mother and his two aunts, Lillibet and Moss.

Benson’s mother was going to a council meeting.

“What’s a council meeting?” asked Benson.

“It’s when a lot of wombats go to a meeting and argue a lot and then they go home,” said his mother.

“Can I come?” Benson asked.

His mother thought about it. “You aren’t old enough to be able to vote, but you can come and watch if you like.”

They both walked to the meeting together. Benson’s mother sat at the top of a table and looked very stern. She said, “Let’s begin the meeting. We need to decide whether we should plant more trees.”

Everyone started to argue and talk at the same time.

Benson said, “Excuse me.”

“Yes, Benson?” said his mother.

“I’m thirsty. May I please have a glass of water?”

“Of course,” said his mother. “What beautiful manners.” She gave him a glass of water.

Everyone else stopped talking and looked at Benson. They looked at his mother. Then a fat wombat in the front row put his hand up.

“Yes, Malcolm?” said Benson’s mother.

“I think we should plant more trees,” the wombat said.

“Thank you, Malcolm. Who else thinks we should plant more trees?”

Everyone raised their hands. “Good,” said Benson’s mother. “We’ll plant more trees, then. Now we need to decide who is going to help keep the waterhole clean.”

Everyone started to talk at once.

Benson put his hand up. Everyone else stopped talking and looked at Benson.

Benson said, “This is very good water. I would like to help keep the waterhole clean, if I can.”

“Of course you can. Thank you, Benson.”

Everyone else put their hands up. “Do you all want to help clean up the waterhole?” Benson’s mother asked.

Everyone nodded their heads.

“Good. Everyone will help. Now we’ve finished the meeting.”

Benson and his mother walked home together. “That was a good meeting,” Benson said.

“Thank you, Benson,” said his mother.

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