The Festival of Small Wishes (A2 Reading Story)

A2 · ELEMENTARY Reading practice · ~1,900 words · 12-min read

This is an original graded reading story for A2 (elementary) learners. The sentences are short and clear. Most of the story is in the past simple tense. First, read the ten key words below. Then read the story. At the end, there is a small quiz and a short writing task.

The story

1 · A new town

Zara moved to a small town in October. The town was quiet. It had a river, a bridge, and a big old tree on the bank of the river. Zara did not know it yet, but the tree was very important.

Zara was twelve years old. Her family came from a big city, far away. In the city, they had many friends and many neighbours. In this small town, they knew nobody.

The first weeks were quiet and slow. Zara went to school in the morning. She came home in the afternoon. She helped her mother with the new baby. Her mother was often tired now, because the baby cried in the night. Zara wanted to help more, but she did not know how.

One afternoon, Zara sat by the window with a book. She looked out at the street. She saw an old woman across the road. The old woman looked at her and smiled.

“Come, little one,” the old woman called in a kind voice. “Come and drink some tea with me.”

Zara asked her mother. Her mother said yes. So Zara crossed the road for the first time.

The old woman was Mrs Hana. She was Zara’s neighbour. A neighbour is a person who lives near you.

Mrs Hana had a small blue kitchen. It smelled of apples and cinnamon.

“You are new here,” Mrs Hana said. “So you do not know about the festival yet. But you will see it very soon. Only two weeks now.”

“What festival?” Zara asked.

“The Festival of Small Wishes,” Mrs Hana said. “We do it every year, in October, before winter comes.”

Zara looked out of the window. She could see the old tree by the river from Mrs Hana’s kitchen.

“Is the festival about the tree?” she asked.

Mrs Hana smiled a big warm smile. “Yes, little one,” she said. “It is all about the tree.”

2 · The old tradition

Mrs Hana gave Zara a cup of hot tea. Then she started her story.

“Long ago, the people of this town were very poor. Life was hard. So every autumn, they came to this old tree. Each person wrote one small wish on a piece of paper. Then they tied the paper to a branch of the tree.”

“What is a branch?” Zara asked.

“A branch is a big piece of wood on a tree, like the arm of the tree,” Mrs Hana said. “Look — the old tree has hundreds of branches.”

“Did the wishes come true?” Zara asked.

“Some did,” Mrs Hana said. “Some did not. But the important thing is not the wish. The important thing is the tradition. A tradition is a special thing that a town does every year, for many, many years.”

“And the town still does it now?” Zara asked.

“Oh yes,” Mrs Hana said. “Every year, on the last Sunday of October, at sunset. Sunset is when the sun goes down in the evening. Old people, young people, mothers, babies — everybody comes. Each person makes one paper leaf. On the leaf, they write one small wish. Only small wishes. Not ‘I want to be rich.’ Not ‘I want a big house.’ Small wishes. Real wishes. The wishes of your heart.”

Zara was quiet for a moment. She thought about her mother. She thought about the tired eyes of her mother, and about the baby who cried in the night.

“Can I make a wish too?” she asked. “Even if I am new here?”

Mrs Hana put her old, kind hand on Zara’s hand.

“Yes, my dear,” she said. “The tree does not care where you are from. The tree only wants your wish.”

3 · The paper leaves

The next week, Mrs Hana came to Zara’s house. She had a small basket with her. In the basket were coloured papers — red, orange, yellow, gold. All the colours of autumn.

“These are for the leaves,” Mrs Hana said to Zara’s mother. “Every family gets some. It is our tradition.”

Zara’s mother took the basket. She was tired, but she smiled a little.

“Thank you,” she said. “That is very kind of you.”

Mrs Hana looked at the baby in the mother’s arms. “A new baby is hard work,” she said quietly. “You are doing very well.”

Zara’s mother almost cried. She did not say anything, but her eyes shone.

That night, Zara sat at the kitchen table with the coloured papers. She took a small pair of scissors. She started to cut the papers into leaf shapes. It was not easy. Her first leaf was ugly. Her second leaf was better. Her third leaf was really nice — a yellow leaf, like sunshine.

“What are you doing?” her father asked. He came into the kitchen with a cup of coffee.

“I am making paper leaves for the festival,” Zara said. “Do you want one?”

Her father sat down beside her. “I do not know,” he said slowly. “I have not made a wish in many years.”

“But it is only a small wish,” Zara said. “Mrs Hana said everybody makes one.”

Her father was quiet for a long moment. Then he took a red leaf.

“All right,” he said. “I will make one wish. But you cannot see it. It is going to be a secret.”

“That is fine,” Zara said. “Wishes are always secret.”

4 · The evening of the festival

The last Sunday of October came. In the morning, the town was quiet as always. But in the afternoon, the streets got busy. People walked to the river. Old men in warm coats. Young children with red cheeks. Mothers with babies. Fathers with pockets full of paper leaves.

Zara walked with her family. Her father carried the baby in a small warm blanket. Her mother held Zara’s hand. Mrs Hana walked with them too.

“I have never seen so many people in this town,” Zara said.

“They come from the small villages too,” Mrs Hana said. “Everybody wants to see the tree, once a year.”

The old tree stood by the river. It was much bigger than Zara remembered. Hundreds of paper leaves were already tied to it. Red, orange, yellow, gold. They moved in the wind, like real autumn leaves.

The sun was low in the sky. It painted the river gold.

“Now the sunset comes,” Mrs Hana said. “This is the time.”

People gathered under the tree. To gather means to come together in one place. An old man with white hair stood on a small wooden box and spoke to the crowd.

“Friends and neighbours,” he said. “We come again to our tree. We come with our hearts open. Write your wish. Tie it to a branch. And believe.”

Everybody was quiet. Then, one by one, people started to write. Zara heard the soft sound of pens on paper. She heard the wind in the branches. She heard the small whispers of the children around her. To whisper is to speak very, very quietly, almost with no sound.

Zara looked at her paper leaf. It was yellow, like sunshine. She held her pen. She was not sure what to write.

She thought about her mother. She thought about the tired eyes. She thought about the baby who cried and cried in the night.

Then she wrote seven small words: “I wish my mother could smile again.”

5 · A branch of your own

Zara walked slowly to the tree. Her heart was fast. She looked up at the branches. They were high — much higher than her.

An old man saw her. He smiled a kind smile.

“Do you need a branch, little one?” he asked. “Come. I will help you.”

He picked her up gently. Zara reached up and tied her yellow leaf to a low branch. Her hands shook a little, but she made a good knot. To tie means to put a string around something so it stays.

“Thank you,” she said quietly to the old man.

“Every wish needs a branch,” the old man said. “And every branch needs a wish.”

Zara went back to her family. Her father was tying a red leaf to another branch. Her mother stood on the grass with the baby, and she watched everything with big, quiet eyes.

“Do you want to make a wish, Mum?” Zara asked.

Her mother did not answer for a moment. Then she said, “I do not have a leaf.”

Mrs Hana came close. She had one gold leaf in her hand — the last one from the basket.

“I have one more,” she said. “For you.”

Zara’s mother took the gold leaf. She sat down on the grass. She wrote something small on the leaf. Zara did not look. Then her mother stood up and walked to the tree.

But she could not reach the branches. She was too short, and her arms were full of the baby.

“I will do it for you, Mum,” Zara said. She took the gold leaf gently. She waited for the old man to lift her up again. And then she tied her mother’s gold leaf next to her own yellow leaf.

Two leaves. Very close. Mother and daughter, together on the same branch.

6 · Small wishes, real hearts

The sun went down. The sky turned pink, then blue, then dark. People started to light small candles around the tree. Soon, the whole tree looked bright, like a big golden light in the dark evening.

Zara stood with her family. Her mother was very quiet. But her face was different now. Softer. Not so tired.

“Mum,” Zara said quietly, “what was your wish?”

Her mother smiled a small, slow smile. She did not answer. She only put her arm around Zara’s shoulders.

“Not now,” she said. “Some day I will tell you. Some day.”

Zara did not mind. She looked up at the tree. Her yellow leaf and her mother’s gold leaf moved gently in the wind. They were only paper. She knew that. But they were together on the same branch. And they were part of something big now — a tree with hundreds of small wishes from hundreds of quiet hearts.

Mrs Hana came and stood beside them.

“How was your first festival, little one?” she asked.

“Beautiful,” Zara said. “I did not know that a small town could feel so warm.”

“That is the secret,” Mrs Hana said. “A small town, a small tree, and a small wish. Small things — but strong. To make a wish out loud, in front of everybody, is a brave thing. Brave means not afraid.”

“Then I was brave today,” Zara said.

Mrs Hana laughed softly.

“Yes, my dear. Today you were very brave.”

That night, when they walked home in the cold air, Zara’s mother did something new. She held Zara’s hand all the way. And she talked — really talked. She talked about her old town, her old friends, her old life. She had not talked like that for many months.

When they got to the door of their house, her mother stopped.

“Zara,” she said. “Tomorrow, will you come with me to the tree again? Just you and me. In the morning, when it is quiet. There is something I want to say to you. Something important.”

Zara looked up at her mother’s face. What did her mother want to say? What was on that little gold leaf?

But that is another story…

Check your understanding

Read each question. Think about your answer. Then click “Show answer” to check.

Words to remember

Here are the ten key words again, in new sentences. Say each one out loud.

• festival — Every summer our town has a music festival in the park.
• wish — On my birthday, I closed my eyes and made a wish.
• neighbour — My neighbour gave me some bread when I moved into my new flat.
• branch — A bird sat on the top branch of the apple tree.
• tie — Please tie your shoes before you run.
• sunset — We watched the sunset from the beach. The sky was pink and orange.
• tradition — In my family, it is a tradition to eat pancakes on Sunday morning.
• gather — Every year, the whole family gathers at my grandmother’s house for New Year.
• whisper — The baby was sleeping, so we spoke in a whisper.
• brave — She was brave — she stood up and asked her question in front of the whole class.

Talk about it · Write about it

Talk about it: Is there a special festival or tradition in your town or your family? What happens? Who comes? What do people wear, eat, or do?

Write about it: Write 6–8 sentences in the past simple. Tell the story of one special day from last year — a festival, a birthday, or a family meal. Try to use these connectors: and, but, so, because, then, when.

🎉 Well done — you read a whole A2 story in English! That is real reading practice, and you also met ten new words on the way.

But what was on that little gold leaf? What did Zara’s mother want to say to her the next morning, alone at the tree? You will find out in the next story…

Next story: Read another A2 story →

About this story: This is an original A2 (elementary) graded reader, around 1,900 words. It uses controlled vocabulary (about a 700-headword ceiling) and the past simple tense, with a few “will” and “going to” future forms. Any harder word is explained before the story and used again inside it, so A2 learners can understand about 98% of the text and pick up the rest from context.

Khamis Maiouf

I’m Khamis Maiouf. English is not my first language – I learned it as an adult in the UK, passed Functional Skills Level 2 in English, qualified in Hairdressing at Level 3, and I’m now studying Business at university. For over five years I’ve taught ESOL classes in my community and tutored students through GCSE English. I write every lesson on this site myself, for the learner I used to be.