The Ant and the Grasshopper

It was a bright, hot summer. In a big green field, a grasshopper sat on a tall blade of grass. He was playing his little fiddle and singing. "Summer is here, the sky is blue, oh what a lovely day to do nothing at all, tra-la-loo!" He danced and he jumped and he played all day long. The sun shone, and the flowers nodded along to his music.

Down below, a long line of ants marched past. Each ant carried a grain of wheat or a seed on her back. Left, right, left, right! "Hello, Ant!" called the grasshopper. "Why are you working so hard on such a sunny day? Come and sing with me!" "I'm sorry, I can't," said the little ant. "We are storing food for the winter. You should do the same." "Winter?" laughed the grasshopper. "Winter is far away!"

Every day it was the same. The ants worked, and the grasshopper played. "Grasshopper, the days are getting shorter," said the ant. "Plenty of time!" he sang. "Grasshopper, the nights are getting colder," said the ant. "Plenty of time!" he sang again. And he played his fiddle in his leaf hammock, while the ants filled their home with grains and seeds, room after room after room.

Then autumn came. The leaves turned brown and fell from the trees. The flowers closed their petals and went to sleep. The grass turned dry and yellow. One morning, the grasshopper woke up and shivered. There was frost on his hat! He looked for something to eat. But the field was bare. There were no seeds, no leaves, no sweet grass. "Oh dear," he said. "Oh dear, oh dear."

Then the snow began to fall. Soft, white, and very, very cold. The poor grasshopper was hungry and freezing. He walked through the snow, with his fiddle under his arm, until he came to the ants' house. Knock, knock, knock. The little ant opened the door. "Grasshopper!" she said. "Please, Ant," he said, in a small voice, "I'm so cold and hungry. I didn't listen to you. I'm sorry. May I come in?"

The ant looked at the shivering grasshopper. The other ants gathered behind her. "You should have worked in the summer," said one. But the little ant said, "He knows that now. And we have plenty to share." So they brought the grasshopper inside. They gave him a warm blanket and a big bowl of seeds. "Thank you," said the grasshopper, and a happy tear rolled down his cheek. "How can I ever repay you?"

"Well," said the little ant, "the winter is long, and it gets very quiet down here. Could you play us a song?" The grasshopper smiled his biggest smile. He picked up his fiddle and he played. He played happy songs and silly songs, and the ants clapped and danced. All winter long, they had food from the ants, and music from the grasshopper. It was the merriest winter the anthill had ever known.

When summer came again, the grasshopper still played his fiddle. But in the mornings, he worked beside the ants, carrying seeds and singing working songs to help the time pass. "A little work, a little play," he sang, "and we'll be ready for a winter day." And when the snow came that year, everyone was warm and full and happy. Good night.