The Ant and the Grasshopper

The story

Summer had come, and the fields lay bright in gold and green. In the soft light of early morning, with dew still sparkling on the grass, a little ant rose before the sun was fully up. She carried a grain of wheat many times her own size, step by careful step, toward her nest. Her small legs pressed on through soft dirt and over stubborn pebbles, but she never stopped, for she knew that winter would come one day.

At midday, when the sun had warmed the meadow through and through, a grasshopper lounged on a wide blade of grass, his long hind legs stretched out, singing a merry little tune. He watched the ant hurrying back and forth, sweating with effort, and laughed. "Why work so hard on such a fine day?" he called. "Come sing with me — the sun won't set today!" The ant paused, wiped her brow, and answered plainly, "The sun is shining, and that is exactly why I must gather now. When snow covers the field, grain will not be so easy to find."

The grasshopper only shrugged his wings and went on singing, dancing, and basking in the warm sun. All summer long the ant carried grain after grain into her tidy little storeroom, while the grasshopper turned every day into a new song, living free and easy.

When autumn came, the wind turned cool and the grass tips faded to pale gold. One evening the ant knelt at her burrow's entrance, packing in dry grass and patting the earth firm against the coming cold. The grasshopper bounced past along the path, glanced at her, and thought it all quite unnecessary. "Tomorrow will surely be just as warm as today," he told himself, humming as he hopped away.

But winter arrived all at once. Overnight, snow covered the whole field in white, the branches stood bare, and a cold wind crept like icy fingers through the dry grass roots. The grasshopper, cold and hungry, his stomach growling and his wings too stiff to move, remembered only then that he had stored nothing at all.

Shivering, he trudged through the deep snow, sinking with every step, until at last he found the ant's snug little doorway glowing with warm lamplight. Inside, the ant sat with her family, sharing the grain she had gathered all summer. The grasshopper gave a small, trembling knock. "Ant," he said softly, "could you spare just a little something to eat?"

The ant opened the door, and seeing the grasshopper shivering with cold, she felt no wish to scold him. She simply welcomed him into the warmth, offered him a little grain and a cup of warm dew-tea, and said gently, "There is nothing wrong with singing. But song alone, without a little preparation, makes winter very hard to bear." The grasshopper ate slowly by the soft light and nodded. "Next summer," he said, "I'll sing — and I'll learn to gather food too." Outside the round window, fresh snow shone quietly under the moon.