Work about fable (4)
It was the middle of winter. A colony of ants living six inches below ground was busy at work rationing out bits and pieces of grains, seeds, dried berries, and snippets of leaves.
A grasshopper poked its head into the burrow, its enormous body barely fitting in through the entrance-hole.
“Please,” the grasshopper said. “If you could spare just one bite of food I would be eternally grateful. I am dying of hunger.”
“Where’s your winter storage?” one ant asked him.
“I’m a grasshopper,” he said. “We don’t store food for the winter.”
The ants all looked at one another and one of them, without any protest from the others, grabbed a single kernel of wheat and carried it to the grasshopper and held it out for him. The grasshopper looked around at the dozens of ants watching the spectacle and then nodded at the generous ant. He received the kernel with his front legs and raised it to his mouth, nibbling for a moment before gulping it down whole.
As soon as he swallowed it, a second ant brought the grasshopper a second kernel of wheat. The grasshopper, though feeling a little better now that he finally had something in his belly, was nonetheless still far too hungry to reject it. He had not eaten in days. He took the second kernel and nodded at the ant. He swallowed it too.
After two hours of walking, and having found not a single thing to eat, the scorpion arrived at a river. It was the same river he arrived at every day. He was tired of that river; he was sick to death of it. Always stopping him. Always holding him back. Every day he arrived there and every day he turned around and headed home, oftentimes empty handed.
Today, he decided, the river is not going to stop me. Today, I will find a way across.