The Carabao and the Shell

The Carabao and the Shell

On a very hot day, a carabao came to the river to cool himself. A carabao is a large water buffalo. This one was broad-shouldered, strong-legged, and very proud of how quickly he could run. The river water was cool. The carabao stepped in up to his knees, then up to his belly, and gave a satisfied sigh. “This is the life,” he said. “All I need is a little breeze.” On a wet stone near the bank lay a small river shell. “Good day, Carabao,” she said. The big animal looked around. “Who said that?” “I did.” The carabao lowered his head and finally noticed the shell. “You?” he said. “So small?” “Small,” said the shell. “And what of it?” The carabao laughed. “Nothing. I was only thinking how long it must take you to get anywhere. While you crawl past one stone, I could run around a field three times.” “Are you sure?” asked the shell. “Of course. I run faster than many animals.” “Could you outrun me?” The carabao laughed so hard that circles spread across the water. “You? I could race you with my eyes closed!” “Do not close them,” said the shell calmly. “Let us have a real race.” The carabao stopped laughing. “Are you serious?” “Entirely.” They agreed to race along the river to a great tree far downstream. The carabao stepped onto the bank, shook water from his back, and stood ready. The shell remained beside the water. “Ready?” he asked. “Ready.” “One, two, three!” The carabao sprang forward. His hooves thudded across the earth. Birds flew from the bushes. Dust rose behind him. He ran so fast that the starting place disappeared far behind. “Poor little shell,” he thought. “She is probably not even past the first stone.” He stopped beside the river and called, “Shell! Where are you?” From very close by, a tiny voice answered, “I am here!” The carabao jumped. A shell lay on a stone beside the water. It was not the same shell. Many shells lived along the river, and each had heard the carabao making fun of their little neighbor. But the carabao did not know that. “How did you get here?” he muttered. “The race is not over,” said the shell. “Run.” The carabao raced on again. This time he ran even faster. After a while, he stopped, breathing hard. “Shell! Where are you now?” From the reeds ahead came the answer, “I am here!” The carabao opened his eyes wide. “That cannot be!” And off he ran again. Each time he stopped to call, another shell answered from farther along the bank. “I am here!” The carabao grew angry. “No,” he thought. “I will not lose to a little shell!” He no longer noticed the hot sun, the dust, or the heaviness in his legs. He only wanted to win. At last his breathing sounded like an old bellows. His legs trembled. His tongue was dry. Still he wanted to go on. “Just a little farther,” he puffed. “I must win.” Then a thin voice from the bank asked, “Why?” The carabao stopped. “What do you mean, why?” “Why run when you can barely stand?” The carabao tried to answer, but only let out a long, tired breath. He lowered himself onto the grass. One shell crept near him. Then another. Then another. Soon a whole line of little shells stretched along the river. The carabao squinted at them. “Was it all of you?” “Yes,” said the first shell. “You tricked me!” “We used something you never imagined,” said the shell. “Small creatures can act together. You were so sure you were better than us that you never stopped to think.” The carabao wanted to complain, but he was too tired. He lay in the shade until his heart stopped thumping and his breathing grew calm. One shell said, “The race is over.” “Who won?” asked the carabao gloomily. The shells rustled softly. “You might say we did. Or you might say that no one won today. You nearly harmed yourself only because you could not bear to lose.” The carabao thought for a while. “I laughed at you because you were small,” he said. “You did.” “And you showed me that size does not decide everything.” “We did.” The carabao was quiet again. “Next time, I will think before I boast.” “That will be quicker than running along the whole river,” said the shell. The carabao could not help laughing. He rested for a long time, then walked slowly back to the water. This time, he was in no hurry. From then on, whenever someone said, “You are the strongest! No one can compete with you!” the carabao shook his great head. “Strength is good,” he said. “Speed is good too. But it is even more useful to know when to run and when to stop and think.” And the shells on the bank gave quiet little smiles inside their round homes. They remembered the day when a small voice kept answering a very large and very confident carabao: “I am here!”

May this story leave a little light in your heart ✨