The Fox and the Crane

The Fox and the Crane

Once Fox and Crane became friends. They would meet beside the river and talk about the weather, forest news, where berries were ripe, and where the frogs sang loudest. One day Fox said: “Dear Crane, come to my house tomorrow. I'll give you a meal you won't forget!” “Thank you, Fox. I'll come.” The next day Crane smoothed his feathers neatly and flew to her cottage. The scent of warm milk porridge drifted out. “Come in, dear guest!” Fox fussed. “Sit close. I've prepared the very best for you.” She took a broad, flat plate, spread the porridge over it in a thin layer, and set it on the table. “Eat, Crane! Don't be shy.” Crane lowered his long beak. Tap, tap. He tried one side. Tap, tap. Then the other. But his beak was long and the plate was flat. However hard he tried, he could pick up almost nothing. Meanwhile Fox licked the plate with her tongue. It suited her perfectly. “Delicious, isn't it?” she asked. “It smells very good,” Crane answered politely. But Fox was so absorbed in eating that she did not notice her guest was hungry. Soon the plate was empty. “There we are,” she said. “I've shared what I had.” Crane did not argue. He only thought that a meal ought to suit the guest as well as the host. Before leaving, he said: “Thank you for inviting me. Come to my home tomorrow. It will be my turn to offer a meal.” Fox was delighted. “I certainly will!” All the next day she imagined what Crane might prepare. A pie? Berries with honey? Perhaps something so delicious that she had never even heard of it. At last she ran to his home. “Welcome, dear Fox,” he said. “Come to the table.” On it stood a tall clay vessel with a narrow neck. Fragrant steam rose from it. Inside were cooked vegetables and little morsels of good food. “Help yourself,” Crane invited. He slipped his long beak through the narrow neck and easily picked up one mouthful after another. Fox walked around the vessel, first to the right, then to the left. She tried pushing her muzzle inside, but it would not fit. Her tongue could not reach far enough. Even her paw was no use. “Mmm, delicious,” said Crane. Fox sat and stared glumly at the narrow opening. Then she remembered yesterday's flat plate. She remembered Crane tapping his beak against it and getting nothing to eat. So that's how it feels, she thought. Yesterday I chose a dish only for myself. Today Crane has done the same. When the food was gone, Crane said: “There we are, Fox. I've shared what I had.” Fox was about to snort angrily, but stopped. “Crane, I think I understand why I've gone hungry today.” He looked at her carefully. “And perhaps I tried rather too hard to repay yesterday's hospitality,” he admitted. They were quiet for a while. “If we invite each other again,” Fox said, “we should choose dishes we can both eat from.” “That would be wise,” Crane agreed. After that, they remembered that inviting a guest meant more than putting something convenient for yourself on the table. You had to think about the person you had invited. True hospitality begins not with a plate or a pot, but with thoughtfulness.

May this story leave a little light in your heart ✨