Speaker 1: Hello, and welcome back to Sleepy Stories. I'm your host, Lucy,
and my friends and I will be reading you a
sleepy bedtime story every week to relax you and to
help you to drift off into a RESTful sleep. From
time to time, we will also read you a relaxing,
peaceful meditation that will take you somewhere beautiful and calming.
Once we have read the stories, we will then read
them a second time, but this time they will be
ready even slower. This will help you to relax even more.
Before we begin, I would like you to close your
eyes and breathe in and out nice and deeply. Take
a few seconds to inhale, and then hold your breath
for a few seconds more, and then release and breathe out.
Do this a few times if you need to. While
you listen to the music and you listen to my voice,
give yourself time to let your body relax and your
mind settle. It's important that we allow time for us
to feel safe, cozy, and completely at ease. And now
it's time for this week's story. In a wide green
valley bordered by hills and silver streams, there lived many
animals who shared the woods, the meadows, and the cool
shade of the old trees. Birds nested in the branches above,
foxes moved quietly through the underbrush, Deer grazed in the
open grass, and rabbits darted like quick thoughts through the
morning mist. Among them all, no one was more famous
for speed than Hair. Hair was swift as the wind,
and proud of it. He could streak across the meadow
before a leaf had time to fall to the ground.
He could leap over roots, stones, and puddles with ease,
and when he ran, his feet barely seemed to touch
the earth. The younger animals admired him, and Hair admired
himself even more. Whenever the animals gathered near the stream
or in the clearing under the oak tree, Hare found
a way to remind every one of his talent. Did
you see me outrun my own shadow this morning? He
would boast. No one in the valley can keep pace
with me, he would say, stretching out on a sunny rock.
Speed is the greatest gift in the world. At first,
the others laughed, because a little pride in a gift
is natural. But Hair spoke of it so often and
with such scorn for others that even his friends grew
tired of him. He did not merely praise his own speed.
He mocked those who had less. The hedgehog, who walked
with tiny, cautious steps, endured Hare's jokes in silence. The squirrel,
though quick in the trees, was told he was only
half fast, and only where branches do the work. Even deer,
graceful and swift in his own right, avoided arguing with hair,
for Hare's vanity made every conversation unpleasant. Of all the
animals in the valley, none was slower than tortoise. Tortoise
lived near the edge of the meadow, where the grass
gave way to a patch of s sandy earth warmed
by the sun. He was not large, and he was
not strong in the way bear was strong, or clever
in the way fox was clever.
Speaker 2: His shell was old and worn smooth by years of weather.
When he walked, he did so with a steady, little motion,
one careful step and then another, as though he meant
to place each foot exactly where it belonged. Tortoise never hurried,
but neither did he stop. Once he had begun. He
listened more than he spoke. He was polite to all creatures,
even those who were foolish. And though the young animals
often giggled at how long it took him to cross
even a short stretch of ground, Tortoise never seemed defended.
He only blinked slowly and continued on his way. One
bright morning in early spring, the animals gathered in the
clearing under the great oak. The air smelled of damp
leaves and wild flowers, and the light spilled through the
branches in broad golden beams. Hair was there, of course,
entertaining a circle of listeners. I tell you, Hare said loudly,
there is no sport left for me in this valley.
I run too fast for every one. A race with
any of you would be over before it began. Not
every contest is won by speed alone, said Owl from
a branch above. Hare laughed, that is exactly what slow
creatures say. A few animals exchanged glances. They were weary
of hares boasting, but no one wished to quarrel. Just then,
Tortoise came slowly into the clearing, carrying a few clover
leaves he had gathered for breakfast. Tear noticed him at once,
and a mischievous grin spread across his face. Well, look
who arrives at last, Hare cried, careful, Tortoise, if you
move any slower, the grass will grow over your feet.
A few young rabbits snickered. Tortoise raised his head and
regarded Hair calmly. Good morning, hair, he said, Hare hopped
in a circle around him. Tell me, Tortoise, how long
did it take you to come from your home since
sunrise yesterday? Tortoise did not answer at once. He placed
his clover on the ground and looked around at the others,
whose faces showed him embarrassment more than amusement. Then he said,
long enough to arrive. There was a murmur among the animals.
Squirrel hid a smile behind his paws. Hair twitched his
nose long enough to arrive. Hair repeated, mockingly, A noble
philosophy for one who has never known what it means
to move. Tortoise studied Hair's restless feet, his eager eyes,
the easy confidence that bordered on cruelty. You are very fast,
Tortoise said, I am the fastest creature here. Hair replied. Then,
perhaps said Tortoise, you would race me. At this The
whole clearing fell silent. Hair stared and then burst into
such loud laughter that two crows flew out of the
nearby bushes in alarm. You, Hare gasped, Race me, if
you are willing, said tortoise. The rabbits rolled on the grass,
Squirrel nearly fell from a low branch. Even deer looked astonished,
though he quickly masked it. This is too much, Hare said,
wiping his eyes with one paw, you challenge me, Why, Tortoise,
By the time you take ten steps, I shall be
at the finish, eating lunch, and half way through a nap.
Then you should have no reason to refuse. Tortoise answered.
That reply silenced the laughter for a moment. Fox, who
enjoyed any event likely to stir excite, stepped forward. A
race should have witnesses and a proper course, he said, smoothly.
If this challenge is real, let it be settled fairly.
It is real, said tortoise. Hare puffed out his chest gladly.
I will race him. It may amuse me for an
hour or longer, muttered Badger. The animals quickly agreed upon
a course. The race would begin at the old oak
in the clearing, continue along the meadow path, curve around
the Hill of Time, cross a shallow brook by the
flat stones, and end at the big willow near the pond.
It was not a difficult route, but it was long
enough for a proper contest. Fox was chosen to act
as judge. Owl would watch from above. Deer and squirrel
would stand at different points along the path to make
sure no one strayed. By noon the race would begin.
The valley buzzed with excitement. Words spread to every burrow,
nest and den. By the appointed hour, the clearing was crowded.
Birds perched on branches, Mice peeped from the grass. Even
the usually solemn heron came from the marsh to witness
the absurd spectacle. Hair stood at the starting place, flexing
his legs and grinning at his admirers. Tortoise stood beside him,
quiet as ever, his face unreadable. Fox raised his tail.
When I drop my tail, he announced, the race begins.
Hair leaned close to Tortoise and said, in a voice
meant to sting. Do try not to lose sight of
me at once. Tortoise replied, I will keep my eyes
on the path. Fox dropped his tail. Hair shot forward
like an arrow loosed from a bow. A cheer rose
from the crowd. In an instant, he was far down
the meadow path, kicking up dust and scattering clover blossoms.
Tortoise began as he always did, one steady step, then another.
The contrast was so great that many animals laughed again.
Some wandered away from the starting line almost at once,
certain they already knew the outcome. Hare reached the hill
of time within moments. He glanced back and could barely
see the clearing behind me. Tortoise was nowhere near. Hair
slowed to an easy jog, then to a hop, then
stopped altogether. This is less a race, he said aloud,
than a waiting game. He sat on a smooth stone
and cleaned one ear with his hind foot. Soon, squirrel,
stationed in a nearby tree, called down. Why have you stopped, Hair,
because there is no need to rush, Hair, replied, Tortoise
will not reach this spot until the moon rises. Squirrel
said nothing. He had seen enough of Hare's pride to
know it never learned from advice. After a few minutes,
Hare rose and bounded farther along the course until he
reached the brook. There he drank some water, admired his reflection,
and imagined how impressed the others would be when he
won with ridiculous ease. Perhaps he thought he might even
cross the finish line backward, just to prove he could. Meanwhile,
Tortoise moved along the path. He heard no cheers. Now
the crowd was far behind him. The sun was warm
on his shell. Grasshoppers sprang out of his way, and
bees drifted lazily over the flowers. Step by step, Tortoise
followed the curve of the meadow. He did not think
of Hare's laughter. He did not think of how far remained.
He thought only of the next piece of ground. One
step and then another. At the hill of time, Tortoise
passed the stone where Hare had rested. Squirrel leaned down
and said quietly. You are far behind, yes, said tortoise.
But you keep going, Yes, said tortoise again, and went
on far ahead. Hare had crossed the brook and reached
a shady grove, not far from the willow that marked
the finish line. Through the trees, he could almost glimpse
the pond beyond. There was still no sign of tortoise.
Hare laughed to himself, I have so much time, he said,
that I might as well enjoy it. In the grove
grew soft moss beneath the trees, and the shade was cool.
A warm breeze stirred the leaves overhead, hair stretched out,
folding his paws behind his head. I shall rest only
a moment, he said, Then I will finish at my leisure.
He listened to the wind whispering through the branches, to
the murmur of water near the pond, to the distant
hum of insects in the grass. The earth was comfortable,
the air mild. His eyes grew heavy. A moment, Hare
murmured again, then he slept back on the course. Tortoise
crossed the brook. Deer, who watched near by, lowered his
head in surprise. You are still going, dear, said, Of course,
said tortoise. Did you not expect Hare to finish long ago?
Tortoise stepped from one flat stone to the next. What
I expect changes nothing, he replied. Deer watched him disappear
up the path and felt for the first time that
this race was not as simple as it had seemed.
The afternoon wore on. More animals drifted toward the willow
to await the finish. Some came merely to laugh. When
Hare finally arrived, others had begun to wonder why he
was taking so long. Fox paced near the line, tail
flicking with impatience. Owl circled overhead, scanning the path. Then
from the edge of the grove tortoise emerged. A murmur
spread through the crowd. He was alone. Where is Hare?
Whispered the field mice. Fox stared, surely he must be
just behind. Tortoise did not answer. He continued onward, slow
and steady, toward the willow in the grove. A leaf
fell upon Hare's nose. He twitched. Another leaf drifted onto
his ear. At last, he opened one eye, then the other.
For a moment, he did not know where he was.
Then memory rushed back the race. He sprang up so
suddenly that he nearly tumbled over. The sun had moved
lower in the sky. A flash of panic shot through him.
Hair dashed out of the grove and toward the finish
line at full speed. Through the trees. He saw the
gathering crowd, and ahead of them all the small domed
shape of tortoise, moving steadily toward the willow. No Hare cried,
his legs flew. Never had he run so fast. The
earth blurred beneath him. The wind roared in his ears,
but Tortoise, hearing the pounding behind him, did not look back.
He simply took another step, and another, and with one
final quiet effort, he passed beneath the drooping branches of
the willow. Fox lifted his tail and called, Tortoise has finished.
Tortoise winds. The clearing erupted in astonished cries. A heartbeat later,
hair burst across the line, but too late. He skidded
to a halt, chest, heaving eyes wide with disbelief. Impossible,
he said, impossible. The animals crowded around, some cheering, some laughing,
some simply staring in wonder. Tortoise stood just beyond the line,
breathing a little harder than usual, but calm. Hare looked
from the willow to Tortoise, then to the faces around him.
For the first time in many seasons, he found no admiration. There,
only amusement, pity, or reproach. Fox cleared his throat. The
winner is plain, yes, said owl, from above, It is plain.
Hair's ears drooped. I am faster, he muttered. No one
doubts that, said, dear, then, how badger answered, you were
too proud to use your gift. Well, the words struck
harder than any insult. Hare turned to Tortoise. Did you
truly believe you could beat me? Tortoise considered the question.
I believed, He said that I could keep going. The
crowd fell quiet care lowered his head. He remembered the
mocking laughter, the easy insults, the certainty that victory required
no effort. He saw now that his speed had not
defeated him. His pride had. I laughed at you, Hare said.
At last, Yes, said Tortoise, and yet you challenged me. Yes? Why?
Tortoise looked toward the path he had traveled, the meadow,
the hill, the brook, the grove beyond, Because he said,
there are many kinds of strength. Yours is speed, mine
is patience. A race reveals more than legs. For a
long moment, Hare said nothing. Then before all the animals
of the valley, he bowed his head. I was foolish,
he said, quietly, and cruel. The words were so unexpected
from Hair that the crowd stirred in surprise. Tortoise gave
a small nod. Then perhaps you have won something. After all.
From that day forward, Hare still ran swiftly for he
could not cease to be what he was, but he
boasted less. When young animals praised his speed, he thanked
them without mocking others. And when he saw tortoise crossing
the meadow inch by inch beneath the sun, he did
not laugh. As for tortoise, he returned to his sandy
patch by the meadow and lived much as he had before.
He did not become proud of his victory, for he
understood that one success is no reason for vanity. Yet
the animals greeted him with new respect, and many who
had once overlooked him now listened when he spoke. In time,
the story of the race spread beyond the valley, beyond
the hills, and into distant forests and fields. It was
told whereever creatures gathered, and wherever pride made the strong careless.
Parrants told it to their children, Teachers told it to
their students. Travelers carried it from one country to another
because its truth was simple and easy to remember, and
the lesson was this. The swift may start with every advantage,
but pride can waste even the greatest gift. Steady effort, patience,
and humility often carry one farther than talent alone, slow
and steady wins the race the tortoise and the hair.
In a wide green valley bordered by hills and silver streams,
there lived many animals who shared the woods, the meadows,
and the cool shade of the old trees. Birds nested
in the branches above, Foxes moved quietly through the underbrush,
Deer grazed in the open grass, and rabbits darted like
quick thoughts through the morning mist. Among them all, no
one was more famous for speed than Hair. Hair was
swift as the wind and proud of it. He could
streak across the meadow before a leaf had time to
fall to the ground. He could leap over roots, stones,
and puddles with ease, and when he ran, his feet
barely seemed to touch the earth. The younger animals admired him,
and Hair admired himself even more. Whenever the animals gathered
near the stream or in the clearing under the oak tree,
Hare found a way to remind every one of his talent.
Did you see me outrun my own shadow this morning?
He would boast. No one in the valley can keep
pace with me, he would say, stretching out on a
sunny rock. Speed is the greatest gift in the world.
At first, the others laughed, because a little pride in
a gift is natural. But Hair spoke of it so often,
and with such scorn for others, that even his friends
grew tired of him. He did not merely praise his
own speed. He mocked those who had less. The hedgehog,
who walked with tiny, cautious steps, endured Hare's jokes in silence.
The squirrel, though quick in the trees, was told he
was only half fast, and only where branches do the work.
Even deer, graceful and swift in his own right, he
did arguing with Hair, for Hare's vanity made every conversation unpleasant.
Of all the animals in the valley, none was slower
than tortoise. Tortoise lived near the edge of the meadow,
where the grass gave way to a patch of sandy
earth warmed by the sun. He was not large, and
he was not strong in the way bear was strong,
or clever in the way fox was clever. His shell
was old and worn smooth by years of weather. When
he walked, he did so with a steady, little motion,
one careful step and then another, as though he meant
to place each foot exactly where it belonged. Tortoise never hurried,
but neither did he stop. Once he had begun. He
listened more than he spoke. He was polite to all creatures,
even those who were foolish. And though the young animals
often giggled at how long it took him to cross
even a short stretch of ground, Tortoise never seemed defended.
He only blinked slowly and continued on his way. One
bright morning in early spring, the animals gathered in the
clearing under the great oak. The air smelled of damp
leaves and wild flowers, and the light spilled through the
branches in broad golden beams. Hair was there, of course,
entertaining a circle of listeners. I tell you, Hair said loudly,
there is no sport left for me in this valley.
I run too fast for everyone. A race with any
of you would be over before it began. Not every
contest is won by speed alone, said owl from a
branch above. Hare laughed, that is exactly what slow creatures say.
A few animals exchanged glances. They were weary of hairs boasting,
but no one wished to quarrel. Just then, Tortoise came
slowly into the clearing, carrying a few clover leaves he
had gathered for breakfast. Tear noticed him at once, and
a mischievous grin spread across his face. Well, look who
arrives at last, Hare cried, careful, Tortoise, if you move
any slower, the grass will grow over your feet. A
few young rabbits snickered. Tortoise raised his head and regarded
Hair calmly. Good morning, hair, he said. Hair hoped in
a circle around him. Tell me, Tortoise, how long did
it take you to come from your home since sunrise yesterday?
Tortoise did not answer at once. He placed his clover
on the ground and looked around at the others, whose
faces showed embarrassment more than amusement. Then he said, long
enough to arrive. There was a murmur among the animals.
Squirrel hid a smile behind his paws. Hair twitched his nose.
Long enough to arrive, Hair repeated mockingly, A noble philosophy
for one who has never known what it means to move.
Tortoise studied Hair's restless feet, his eager eyes, the easy
confidence that bordered on cruelty. You are very fast, Tortoise said,
I am the fastest creature here. Hair replied. Then, perhaps,
said Tortoise, you would race me. At this The whole
clearing fell silent. Hair stared, and then burst into such
loud laughter that two crows flew out of the nearby
bushes in alarm. You, Hair gasped, Race me, if you
are willing, said tortoise. The rabbits rolled on the grass,
Squirrel nearly fell from a low branch. Even deer looked astonished,
though he quickly masked it. This is too much, Hair said,
wiping his eyes with one paw, you challenge me, Why, Tortoise.
By the time you take ten steps, I shall be
at the finish, eating lunch, and halfway through a nap.
Then you should have no reason to refuse. Tortoise answered.
That reply silenced the laughter for a moment. Fox, who
enjoyed any event likely to stir excitement, stepped forward. A
race should have witnesses and a proper course, he said, smoothly.
If this challenge is real, let it be settled fairly.
It is real, said tortoise. Hare puffed out his chest gladly.
I will race him. It may amuse me for an
hour or longer, muttered Badger. The animals quickly agreed upon
a course. The race would begin at the old oak
in the clearing, continue along the meadow path, curve around
on the hill of time, cross a shallow brook by
the flat stones, and end at the big willow near
the pond. It was not a difficult route, but it
was long enough for a proper contest. Fox was chosen
to act as judge. Owl would watch from above. Deer
and squirrel would stand at different points along the path
to make sure no one strayed. By noon, the race
would begin. The valley buzzed with excitement. Words spread to
every burrow, nest and den. By the appointed hour, the
clearing was crowded. Birds perched on branches, Mice peeped from
the grass. Even the usually solemn heron came from the
marsh to witness the absurd spectacle. Hare stood at the
starting place, flexing his legs and ring at his admirers.
Tortoise stood beside him, quiet as ever, his face unreadable.
Fox raised his tail. When I drop my tail, he announced,
The race begins. Hare leaned close to tortoise and said,
in a voice meant to sting do try not to
lose sight of me. At once, Tortoise replied, I will
keep my eyes on the path. Fox dropped his tail,
hair shot forward like an arrow loosed from a bow.
A cheer rose from the crowd. In an instant, he
was far down the meadow path, kicking up dust and
scattering clover blossoms. Tortoise began as he always did, one
steady step, then another. The contrast so great that many
animals laughed again. Some wandered away from the starting line
almost at once, certain they already knew the outcome. Hare
reached the hill of time within moments. He glanced back
and could barely see the clearing behind him. Tortoise was
nowhere near. Hair slowed to an easy jog, then to
a hop, then stopped altogether. This is less a race,
he said aloud, than a waiting game. He sat on
a smooth stone and cleaned one ear with his hind foot. Soon, squirrel,
stationed in a nearby tree, called down. Why have you stopped, Hair,
because there is no need to rush, Hair, replied, Tortoise
will not reach this spot until the moon rises. Squirrel
said nothing. He had seen enough of Hare's pride to
know it never learned from advice. After a few minutes,
Hare rose and bounded farther along the course until he
reached the brook. There he drank some water, admired his reflection,
and imagined how impressed the others would be when he
won with ridiculous ease. Perhaps he thought he might even
cross the finish line backward, just to prove he could. Meanwhile,
Tortoise moved along the path. He heard no cheers. Now
the crowd was far behind him. The sun was warm
on his shell. Grasshoppers sprang out of his way, and
bees drifted lazily over the flowers. Step by step, Tortoise
followed the curve of the meadow. He did not think
of Hare's laughter. He did not think of how far remained.
He thought only of the next piece of ground. One
step and then another. At the hill of time, Tortoise
passed the stone where Hare had rested. Squirrel leaned down
and said quietly, you are far behind, yes, said tortoise.
But you keep going, Yes, said tortoise again, and went
on far ahead. Hare had crossed the brook and reached
a shady grove not far from the willow that marked
the finish line through the trees, he could almost glimpse
the pond beyond. There was still no sign of tortoise.
Hare laughed to himself. I have so much time, he said,
that I might as well enjoy it. In the grove
grew soft moss beneath the trees, and the shade was cool.
A warm breeze stirred the leaves overhead, hair stretched out,
folding his paws behind his head. I shall rest only
a moment, he said, Then I will finish at my leisure.
He listened to the wind whispering through the branches, to
the murmur of water near the pond, to the distant
hum of insects in the grass. The earth was comfortable,
the air mild. His eyes grew heavy. A moment, Hare
murmured again. Then he slept back on the course. Tortoise
crossed the brook. Deer, who watched near by, lowered his
head in surprise. You are still going, dear, said, Of course,
said tortoise. Did you not expect Hare to finish long ago?
Tortoise stepped from one flat stone to the next. What
I expect changes nothing, he replied. Deer watched him disappear
up the path and felt for the first time that
this race was not as simple as it had seemed.
The afternoon wore on. More animals drifted toward the willow
to await the finish Some came merely to laugh when
Hare finally arrived. Others had begun to wonder why he
was taking so long. Fox paced near the line, tail
flicking with impatience. Owl circled overhead, scanning the path. Then
from the edge of the grove tortoise emerged. A murmur
spread through the crowd. He was alone. Where is Hare?
Whispered the field mice. Fox stared, surely he must be
just behind. Tortoise did not answer. He continued onward, slow
and steady, toward the willow in the grove. A leaf
fell upon Hare's nose. He twitched. Another leaf drifted on
to his ear. At last, he opened one eye, then
the other. For a moment, he did not know where
he was. Then memory rushed back the race. He sprang
up so suddenly that he nearly tumbled over. The sun
had moved lower in the sky. A flash of panic
shot through him. Hair dashed out of the grove and
toward the finish line at full speed. Through the trees.
He saw the gathering crowd, and ahead of them all
the small domed shape of tortoise, moving steadily toward the willow.
No Hare cried, His legs flew. Never had he run
so fast. The earth blurred beneath him. The wind roared
in his ears, but Tortoise, hearing the pounding behind him,
did not look back. He simply took another step, and another,
and with one final quiet effort, he passed beneath the
drooping branches of the willow. Fox lifted his tail and called,
Tortoise has finished. Tortoise wins. The clearing erupted in astonished cries.
A heartbeat later, hair burst across the line, but too late.
He skidded to a halt, chest, heaving eyes wide with disbelief. Impossible,
he said, impossible. The animals crowded around, some cheering, some laughing,
some simply staring in wonder. Tortoise stood just beyond the line,
breathing a little harder than usual, but calm. Hare looked
from the willow to tortoise, then to the faces around him.
For the first time in many seasons, he found no admiration. There,
only amusement, pity, or reproach. Fox cleared his throat The
winner is plain, yes, said owl from above, It is plain.
Hare's ears drooped. I am faster, he muttered. No one
doubts that, said dear, Then how Badger answered, you were
too proud to use your gift. Well, the words struck
harder than any insult. Hair turned to Tortoise. Did you truly
believe you could beat me? Tortoise considered the question. I believed,
he said that I could keep going. The crowd fell
quiet care lowered his head. He remembered the mocking laughter,
the easy insults, the certainty that victory required no effort,
or now that his speed had not defeated him, his
pride had I laughed at you, Hair said. At last, yes,
said Tortoise, And yet you challenged me. Yes? Why? Tortoise
looked toward the path he had traveled, the meadow, the hill,
the brook, the grove beyond. Because he said, there are
many kinds of strength. Yours is speed, mine is patience.
A race reveals more than legs. For a long moment,
Hare said nothing. Then, before all the animals of the valley,
he bowed his head. I was foolish, he said, quietly,
and cruel. The words were so unexpected from hair that
the crowd stirred in surprise. Tortoise gave a small nod. Then,
perhaps you have won something after all. From that day forward,
Hare still ran swiftly, for he could not cease to
be what he was, But he boasted less. When young
animals praised his speed, he thanked them without mocking others.
And when he saw tortoise crossing the meadow inch by
inch beneath the sun, he did not laugh. As for Tortoise,
he returned to his sandy patch by the meadow and
lived much as he had before. He did not become
proud of his victory, for he understood that one success
is no reason for vanity. Yet the animals greeted him
with new respect, and many who had once overlooked him
now listened when he spoke. In time, the story of
the race spread beyond the valley, beyond the hills, and
into distant forests and fields. It was told wherever creatures gathered,
and wherever pride made the strong careless. Parents told it
to their children, Teachers told it to their students. Travelers
carried it from one country to another because its truth
was simple and easy to remember, and the lesson was
this the swift may start with every advantage, but pride
can waste even the greatest gift. Steady effort, patience, and
humility often carry one farther than talent alone. Slow and
steady wins the race the tortoise and the hair. In
a wide green valley bordered by hills and silver streams,
there lived many animals who shared the woods, the meadows,
and the cool shade of the old trees. Birds nested
in the branches above, Foxes moved quietly through the underbrush,
Deer grazed in the open grass, and rabbits darted like
quick thoughts through the morning mist. Among them all, no
one was more famous for speed than hair. Hair was
swift as the wind, and proud of it. He could
streak across the meadow before a leaf had time to
fall to the ground. He could leap over roots, stones,
and puddles with ease, and when he ran, his feet
barely seemed to touch the earth. The younger animals admired him,
and Hair admired himself even more. Whenever the animals gathered
near the stream or in the clearing under the oak tree,
Hare found a way to remind every one of his talent.
Did you see me outrun my own shadow this morning?
He would boast. No one in the valley can keep
pace with me. He would say, stretching out on a
sunny rock. Speed is the greatest gift in the world.
At first, the others laughed, because a little pride in
a gift is natural. But Hair spoke of it so often,
and with such scorn for others, that even his friends
grew tired of him. He did not merely praise his
own death speed. He mocked those who had less. The hedgehog,
who walked with tiny, cautious steps, endured Hare's jokes in silence.
The squirrel, though quick in the trees, was told he
was only half fast, and only where branches do the work.
Even deer, graceful and swift in his own right, avoided
arguing with Hair, for Hare's vanity made every conversation unpleasant.
Of all the animals in the valley, none was slower
than tortoise. Tortoise lived near the edge of the meadow,
where the grass gave way to a patch of sandy
earth warmed by the sun. He was not large, and
he was not strong in the way bear was strong,
or clever in the way fox was clever. His shell
was old and warm, smooth by years of weather. When
he walked, he did so with a steady little motion,
one careful step and then another, as though he meant
to place each foot exactly where it belonged. Tortoise never hurried,
but neither did he stop. Once he had begun. He
listened more than he spoke. He was polite to all creatures,
even those who were foolish. And though the young animals
often giggled at how long it took him to cross
even a short stretch of ground, Tortoise never seemed defended.
He only blinked slowly and continued on his way. One
bright morning in early spring, the animals gathered in the
clearing under the great oak. The air smelled of damp
leaves and wild flowers, and the light spilled through the
bright lunches in broad golden beams. Hair was there, of course,
entertaining a circle of listeners. I tell you, hare, said loudly,
there is no sport left for me in this valley.
I run too fast for everyone. A race with any
of you would be over before it began. Not every
contest is won by speed alone, said owl from a
branch above. Hare laughed, that is exactly what slow creatures say.
A few animals exchanged glances. They were weary of hares boasting,
but no one wished to quarrel. Just then, tortoise came
slowly into the clearing, carrying a few clover leaves he
had gathered for breakfast. Tear noticed him at once, and
a mischievous grin spread across his head. Well, look who
arrives at last, Hare cried, careful, tortoise, if you move
any slower, the grass will grow over your feet. A
few young rabbits snickered. Tortoise raised his head and regarded
hair calmly. Good morning, hair, he said. Hair hopped in
a circle around him. Tell me, tortoise, how long did
it take you to come from your home since sunrise yesterday?
Tortoise did not answer at once. He placed his clover
on the ground and looked around at the others, whose
faces showed embarrassment more than amusement. Then he said, long
enough to arrive. There was a murmur among the animals.
Squirrel hid a smile behind his paws, Hair twitched his
nose long enough to arrive, Hair repeated mockingly. A noble
philosophy for one who has never known what it means
to move. Tortoise studied Hare's restless feet, his eager eyes,
the easy confidence that bordered on cruelty. You are very fast,
Tortoise said, I am the fastest creature here. Hair replied. Then, perhaps,
said Tortoise, you would race me? At this The whole
clearing fell silent. Hair stared, and then burst into such
loud laughter that two crows flew out of the nearby
bushes in alarm. You, Hare gasped, Race me, if you
are willing, said Tortoise. The rabbits rolled on the grass,
Squirrel nearly fell from a low branch. Even deer looked astonished,
though he quickly masked it. This is too much, Hare said,
wiping his eyes with one paw. You challenge me, Why, Tortoise,
By the time you take ten steps, I shall be
at the finish, eating lunch, and halfway through a nap.
Then you should have no reason to refuse. Tortoise answered.
That reply silenced the laughter for a moment. Fox, who
enjoyed any event likely to stir excitement, stepped forward. A
race should have witnesses and a proper course, he said, smoothly.
If this challenge is real, let it be settled fairly.
It is real, said tortoise. Hare puffed out his chest gladly.
I will race him. It may amuse me for an
hour or longer, muttered badger. The animals quickly agreed upon
a course. The race would begin at the old oak
in the clearing, continue along the meadow path, curve around
the hill of time, cross a shallow brook by the
flat stones, and end at the big willow near the pond.
It was not a difficult route, but it was long
enough for a proper contest. Fox was chosen to act
as judge. Owl would watch from above. Deer and squirrel
would stand at different points along the path to make
sure no one strayed. By noon, the race would begin.
The valley buzzed with excitement. Words spread to every burrow,
nest and den. By the appointed hour, the clearing was crowded.
Birds perched on branches, mice peeped from the grass. Even
the usually solemn heron came from the marsh to witness
the absurd spectacle. Hare stood at the starting place, flexing
his legs and grinning at his admirers. Tortoise stood beside him,
quiet as ever, his face unreadable, Fox raised his tail.
When I drop my tail, he announced, the race begins.
Hare leaned close to tortoise and said, in a voice
meant to sting. Do try not to lose sight of me.
At once. Tortoise replied, I will keep my eyes on
the path. Fox dropped his tail, hair shot forward like
an arrow loosed from a bow. A cheer rose from
the crowd. In an instant, he was far down the
meadow path, kicking up dust and scattering clover blossoms. Tortoise began,
as he always did, one steady step, then another. The
contrast was so great that many animals laughed again. Some
wandered away from the starting line almost at once, certain
they already knew the outcome. Hare reached the hill of
time within moments. He glanced back and could barely see
the clearing behind him. Tortoise was nowhere near. Hair slowed
to an easy jog, then to a hop, then stopped altogether.
This is less a race, he said aloud, than a
waiting game. He sat on a smooth stone and cleaned
one ear with his hind foot. Soon, squirrel stationed in
a nearby tree called down. Why have you stopped, hair,
because there is no need to rush, Hair, replied Tortoise.
Will not reach this spot until the moon rises. Squirrel
said nothing. He had seen enough of Hare's pride to
know it never learned from advice. After a few minutes,
Hare rose and bounded farther along the course until he
reached the brook. There he drank some water, admired his reflection,
and imagined how impressed the others would be when he
won with ridiculous ease. Perhaps he thought he might even
cross the finish line backward, just to prove he could. Meanwhile,
Tortoise moved along the path. He heard no cheers. Now
the crowd was far behind him. The sun was warm
on his shell. Grasshoppers sprang out of his way, and
bees drifted lazily over the flowers. Step by step, Tortoise
followed the curve of the meadow. He did not think
of Hare's laughter. He did not think of how far remained.
He thought only of the next piece of ground. One
step and then another. At the hill of time, Tortoise
passed the stone where Hare had rested. Squirrel leaned down
and said, quietly, you are far behind. Yes, said tortoise.
But you keep going, Yes, said tortoise again, and went
on far ahead. Hare had crossed the brook and reached
a shady grove not far from the willow that marked
the finish line through the trees. He could almost glimpse
the pond beyond. There was still no sign of tortoise.
Hare laughed to himself. I have so much time, he said,
that I might as well enjoy it. In the grove
grew soft moss beneath the trees, and the shade was cool.
A warm breeze stirred the leaves overhead, Hair stretched out,
folding his paws behind his head. I shall rest only
a moment, he said, Then I will finish at my leisure.
He listened to the wind whispering through the branches, to
the murmur of water near the to the distant hum
of insects in the grass. The earth was comfortable, the
air mild. His eyes grew heavy a moment, hair murmured again.
Then he slept back on the course. Tortoise crossed the brook. Deer,
who watched nearby, lowered his head in surprise. You are
still going, dear, said of course, said tortoise. Did you
not expect hair to finish long ago. Tortoise stepped from
one flat stone to the next. What I expect changes nothing,
he replied. Deer watched him disappear up the path and
felt for the first time that this race was not
as simple as it had seemed. The afternoon wore on.
More animals drifted toward the willow to await the finish.
Some came merely to laugh when Hare finally arrived. Others
had begun to wonder why he was taking so long.
Fox paced near the line, tail flicking with impatience. Owl
circled overhead, scanning the path. Then from the edge of
the grove tortoise emerged. A murmur spread through the crowd.
He was alone. Where is Hare, whispered the field mice.
Fox stared, surely he must be just behind. Tortoise did
not answer. He continued onward, slow and steady, toward the
willow in the grove. A leaf fell upon Hare's nose.
He twitched, another leaf drifted on to his ear. At last,
he opened one eye, then the other. For a moment,
he did not know where he was. Then memory rushed
back the race. He sprang up so suddenly that he
nearly tumbled over the sun had moved lower in the sky.
A flash of panic shot through him. Hair dashed out
of the grove and toward the finish line at full speed.
Through the trees. He saw the gathering crowd, and ahead
of them all the small domed shape of tortoise, moving
steadily toward the willow.
Speaker 1: No.
Speaker 2: Hare cried, His legs flew. Never had he run so fast.
The earth blurred beneath him. The wind roared in his ears,
but Tortoise, hearing the pounding behind him, did not look back.
He simply took another step, and another, and with one
final quiet effort, he passed beneath the drooping branches of
the willow. Fox lifted his tail and called, Tortoise has finished.
Tortoise winds. The clearing erupted in astonished cries. A heartbeat later,
hair burst across the line, but too late. He skidded
to a halt, chest, heaving eyes wide with disbelief. Impossible,
he said, impossible. The animals crowded around, some cheering, some laughing,
some simply step in wonder. Tortoise stood just beyond the line,
breathing a little harder than usual, but calm. Hare looked
from the willow to Tortoise, then to the faces around him.
For the first time in many seasons, he found no admiration.
There only amusement, pity or reproach. Fox cleared his throat.
The winner is plain, yes, said owl from above, It
is plain. Hair's ears drooped. I am faster, he muttered.
No one doubts that, said dear, Then how Badger answered,
you were too proud to use your gift. Well, the
words struck harder than any insult. Hair turned to Tortoise.
Did you try? I truly believe you could beat me?
Tortoise considered the question. I believed, he said that I
could keep going. The crowd fell quiet. Care lowered his head.
He remembered the mocking laughter, the easy insults, the certainty
that victory required no effort. He saw now that his
speed had not defeated him his pride had I laughed
at you, Hare said. At last, Yes, said Tortoise, And
yet you challenged me. Yes?
Speaker 1: Why?
Speaker 2: Tortoise looked toward the path he had traveled, the meadow,
the hill, the brook, the grove beyond. Because he said,
there are many kinds of strength. Is speed, mine is patience?
A race reveals more than legs. For a long moment,
Hare said nothing. Then before all the animals of the valley,
he bowed his head. I was foolish, he said, quietly,
and cruel. The words were so unexpected from Hair that
the crowd stirred in surprise. Tortoise gave a small nod.
Then perhaps you have won something after all. From that
day forward, Hare still ran swiftly, for he could not
cease to be what he was, But he boasted less.
When young animals praised his speed, he thanked them without
mocking others. And when he saw tortoise crossing the meadow
inch by inch beneath the sun, he did not laugh.
As for Tortoise, he returned to his sandy patch by
the meadow and lived much as he had before. He
did not become proud of his victory, for he understood
that one success is no reason for vanity. Yet the
animals greeted him with new respect, and many who had
once overlooked him now listened when he spoke. In time,
the story of the race spread beyond the valley, beyond
the hills, and into distant forests and fields. It was
told wherever creatures gathered, and wherever pride made the strong careless.
Parents told it to their children, Teachers told it to
their students. Travelers carried it from one country to another,
because its truth was simple and easy to remember. The
lesson was this, The swift may start with every advantage,
but pride can waste even the greatest gift. Steady effort, patience,
and humility often carry one farther than talent alone. Slow
and steady wins the race. Super b