The Tortoise Bus

Once upon a time, in a quiet little farming village, there lived a hardworking farmer named Peter. Every single day, Peter worked tirelessly in his fields, plowing and planting from the moment the sun peeked over the hills until the stars came out at night.

One afternoon, while Peter was busy tending the soil, a wild rabbit suddenly darted out from the bushes behind him. Startled by the farmer, the rabbit panicked and zigzagged wildly across the field. Thump! The poor bunny crashed right into the trunk of a giant oak tree at the edge of the field and fell completely still. Peter walked over and realized the impact had been so hard that the rabbit had died.

Surprised, Peter scooped up the rabbit. He couldn't believe his luck!

"What a fortunate day!" he thought with a grin. "I didn't have to lift a finger, and I caught a rabbit! I bet I can sell this at the market for a pretty penny."

He dropped his heavy tools right then and there, marched off to the town market, and, just as he had hoped, sold the rabbit for a handful of shiny coins.

On his walk home, Peter’s imagination began to run wild. "If I can pick up a free rabbit every single day," he schemed, "I won't ever have to do this back-breaking farm work again!"

From that day on, Peter didn't pick up his hoe or his shovel. Instead, he plopped himself down right next to that giant oak tree, keeping his eyes glued to the tall grass, just waiting for the next rabbit to deliver itself.

Days turned into weeks. Peter waited and watched, but no matter how long he sat there, not a single rabbit ever bumped into that tree again. With no one to tend the fields, his carefully planted crops began to droop and wither. Soon, prickly weeds took over, and his beautiful farm turned into a wild, tangled wasteland.

When the crisp autumn air arrived, it was harvest time. All the other farmers in the village were busy gathering their giant pumpkins, golden corn, and bushels of wheat, their faces glowing with joy. But poor Peter had absolutely nothing. His field was empty, and he didn't have so much as a single grain of wheat for the winter.

Sitting by the edge of his ruined farm, Peter hung his head in sorrow. He finally understood his terrible mistake.

"A stroke of good luck isn't something you can count on every day," Peter sighed, filled with regret. "I can't give up doing good, honest work just because of one lucky accident. The only way to get a real harvest is to plant the seeds and do the work."