The Squirrel and the Spider

The Squirrel and the Spider

Once upon a time, in a green forest, there lived a hardworking Squirrel. She not only gathered nuts and seeds, but also knew how to care for a little field in a sunny clearing.

In spring, Squirrel loosened the soil and planted grain. She watered the young shoots, protected them from storms, and waited patiently. Day by day the stalks grew taller, the ears filled out, and soon the whole field shimmered with gold.

Squirrel had not made a road to her field. Why would she need one when she could easily leap from branch to branch? She traveled from her tree hollow to the clearing along the treetops, hardly ever touching the ground.

One day, Spider was passing nearby. He was looking for something tasty to eat when he spotted the beautiful field.

“What a harvest!” he cried. “And who owns such a treasure?”

Spider walked around the clearing once, twice, and a third time. He found no road.

“How strange,” he muttered. “If there’s no road, perhaps there’s no owner either?”

He liked that thought more than he should have.

He ran home and called his family.

“I’ve found a wonderful field,” he said. “All we have to do is make a path to it, and everyone will think it belongs to us.”

“But did we plant it?” asked one little spiderling.

Spider waved the question away. “Planting is one thing. Having a path is quite another!”

The whole family got to work. They trampled a trail from their home straight to the clearing. To make it look more convincing, Spider scattered a few pieces of an old clay pot along the path.

“See?” he said proudly. “It looks as if we’ve been coming here for ages.”

The next morning, the Spiders came to the field and began cutting the ripe stalks.

Just then Squirrel climbed down from a tree.

“What are you doing?” she asked in surprise.

“Gathering our harvest,” Spider replied calmly.

“Yours? I tended this field from the very first sprout!”

“Then where is your road?” Spider narrowed his eyes.

“I come along the branches.”

Spider laughed. “Who ever heard of a field without a road? Look: here is our path, here are the tracks, and here are even pieces of pottery beside it. It all proves that the field is ours.”

Squirrel was confused. She knew the truth but did not know how to prove it.

So the animals decided to take the matter to the forest council.

Old and young forest folk gathered in a large clearing. Squirrel explained how she had planted the grain. Spider showed them the path.

Some of the judges scratched their heads.

“It’s true,” one said. “Usually a path leads to a field.”

“But I came through the trees!” Squirrel protested.

Still, she had little proof, and the council made a mistake: it allowed Spider to take the harvest.

Squirrel went home sadly.

Spider and his family began tying the grain into big bundles.

“You see,” he bragged, “it’s not enough to work. You have to be clever, too!”

The little spiderling who had asked a question earlier whispered, “I still don’t think it belongs to us.”

But Spider did not listen.

He loaded everyone down with bundles, and the family set off for the market.

Halfway there, the sky suddenly darkened. A strong wind blew in, thunder rumbled, and rain came pouring down.

“Quickly! Under the tree!” Spider shouted.

They set the bundles beside the road and ran for shelter.

The rain did not last long. When the clouds parted, Spider returned to the grain and saw a large Black Crow beside the bundles. Crow had spread his wings over the grain, keeping off the last drops of rain.

“Thank you, dear Crow!” Spider said politely. “You saved our belongings from the rain.”

Crow slowly turned his head.

“Your belongings?”

“Of course.”

“That’s strange,” said Crow. “I found these bundles beside the road. No one was here. So perhaps they belong to me.”

Spider jumped.

“You can’t do that! We left them here for just a moment!”

“And where is the proof that they are yours?” Crow asked.

“But we were carrying them!”

“I didn’t see that.”

“But that’s unfair!”

Crow looked at Spider carefully.

“Is it? When Squirrel said she had grown the field herself, you asked her, ‘Where is your road?’ Now I can ask you, ‘Where is your proof that these bundles are yours?’”

Spider fell silent.

He felt very uncomfortable.

“So you know everything?” he finally muttered.

“News travels fast in the forest,” Crow replied. “Especially when you have wings.”

The little spiderling spoke quietly. “Dad, we should give the grain back to Squirrel.”

Spider looked at the bundles, then at his children, and sighed.

“All right. I was dishonest.”

Crow nodded.

Together, they returned to Squirrel. Spider placed the whole harvest in front of her.

“It belongs to you,” he said. “You grew it. I made up a trick, but a trick cannot make someone else’s things belong to me.”

Squirrel looked at him and replied, “I’m glad you understand that now.”

She did not scold him. Instead, she gave Spider’s family a small basket of grain.

“For returning it willingly.”

Spider was surprised. “After what I did?”

“Yes. But next time, if you want a harvest, come in the spring. I’ll show you how to plant.”

The following spring, another field appeared in a neighboring clearing.

This time Spider loosened the soil, planted the grain, and carried water himself. The work took a long time, but when harvest came, he could say without any tricks at all:

“Now this really is ours.”

Squirrel smiled from a branch and tossed him a ripe nut.

From then on, the forest folk often said: a path may lead to a field, but it is honest work—not a path—that earns you the harvest.

May this story leave a little light in your heart ✨