The Happy Family

The Happy Family

In an old garden beside a great house grew a true forest of burdock leaves.

The leaves were so broad that a sparrow could hide from rain beneath one, a frog beneath another, and perhaps an entire family of mice beneath a third. When a shower began, drops drummed on the green leaves:

Tap-tap! Rattle-rattle! Tap-tap!

It sounded like hundreds of tiny drums.

Deep in the thicket lived two old white snails. They no longer remembered exactly how old they were, but they were certain of one thing: their family was extremely distinguished.

“All these burdocks were planted especially for us,” Mother Snail often said.

“Certainly,” agreed Father Snail. “Otherwise why would there be so many?”

They had never traveled beyond the green forest. But older generations had told them a legend about a grand manor house somewhere beyond the garden.

They said that once, the most important snails were carried there on silver trays.

What happened afterward, no snail knew for sure.

Some said music awaited them.

Others claimed hundreds of candles shone there.

Still others knew nothing at all, but nodded solemnly and said:

“A silver tray is undoubtedly a great honor.”

The old snails believed this too.

“It would be wonderful to visit the manor house someday,” dreamed Mother Snail.

“Do not hurry,” said Father Snail. “I am comfortable here. The burdock is fresh, the rain comes regularly, and my house is always on my back. What more could I need?”

But what they loved most was not the legend and not even the juicy leaves.

They loved a little snail they had once welcomed into their family.

The old couple had no children of their own, so the youngster became their true son.

He was small, curious, and very slow even by snail standards.

Once it took him three days to climb a single stalk.

Father Snail looked up nervously.

“Why go so high? I feel dizzy just watching.”

“Do not fuss,” Mother said gently. “He is careful. Let him see the world.”

At last the young snail reached the edge of a huge leaf and stopped.

Before him stretched a green ocean. Leaves rolled in the wind, drops sparkled on stems, insects buzzed somewhere, and far away a piece of blue sky showed between the plants.

“Our forest is enormous,” he whispered.

When their son grew older, Mother Snail began to think.

“It would be nice if he met someone with whom he might choose to build a family.”

“Where would we find anyone?” asked Father.

“We should ask those who travel.”

They called the ants.

The ants arrived immediately, because ants are always hurrying somewhere even before they have decided why.

“We know a wonderful lady!” said the oldest ant. “She is a queen and lives in an enormous anthill. Hundreds of passages!”

The old snails looked at one another.

“Hundreds of passages?” Father repeated. “Our son would be lost in the first one.”

“And she does not carry her house on her back,” added Mother. “No, I think they would have trouble understanding each other.”

Then they asked the little gnats.

The gnats flew far and knew every bush in the garden.

“There is a young snail on the gooseberry bush, about a hundred human steps from here!”

A hundred human steps!

For a snail, that was nearly a journey around the world.

The gnats flew to the gooseberry bush with an invitation.

The young snail agreed to visit.

Her journey took an entire week.

On the first day she passed a pebble.

On the second she went around a puddle.

On the third she waited out the rain beneath a blade of grass.

On the fourth she saw a rainbow inside a drop of dew.

On the fifth she had a long conversation with a beetle.

On the sixth she could already smell fresh burdock.

On the seventh she finally reached the green forest.

The young snail met her beside the widest leaf.

“You really came all that way?”

“Yes. I wanted to see whether this truly is the best forest in the world.”

“Is it?”

She looked around.

“I do not know. I have not seen the whole world. But it is beautiful here.”

The young snail liked that answer better than all the old family legends.

They talked for a long time. About rain. About gooseberries. About whether traveling from one leaf to another counted as a journey. About how pleasant it was to carry your home wherever you went.

Before long, they decided to stay together.

Their wedding was quiet but lovely.

Six earthworms stretched along the path like an honor guard. Gnats circled in the air. Ants brought tiny petals. Rain tapped festive music on the leaves.

Mother Snail gave a long speech.

“We give you this whole burdock forest. Care for it. Care for each other. And remember: someday perhaps you will be invited to the great house and carried there on a silver tray.”

Father Snail became so emotional that he could only nod slowly.

After the wedding, the old couple decided they had earned the longest rest of their lives. They settled comfortably into their shells and slept.

The young pair took care of the burdock forest.

Days passed. Then weeks. Then years.

They had children, and later more children. Little snails crawled along stems, hid from sunlight, counted raindrops, and argued about which leaf tasted best.

No one ever came from the great house.

“Perhaps that house is gone,” said the young snail one day.

“Perhaps,” replied his wife.

“And perhaps there is no silver tray.”

“Perhaps.”

He thought for a moment.

“Are you disappointed?”

She watched their little ones sliding down a wet leaf as though it were a playground.

Tap-tap, rattle-rattle! sang the rain.

Sunlight broke through the clouds, and the whole green forest began to shine.

“No,” she said. “We already have everything that matters.”

From then on, their large family was completely convinced that the sun rose to warm the burdock leaves, rain drummed to entertain them, and the wide green forest existed precisely so they could live there together.

Perhaps they exaggerated a little.

But they were truly happy.

May this story leave a little light in your heart ✨