Fable 1
The Tortoise Who Was Not in a Hurry
At the edge of a warm green forest lived a young tortoise named Toby. He had a round shell the colour of moss after rain, four sturdy feet, and one very calm way of doing almost everything.
Every morning, the forest animals hurried past him. Rafi Rabbit bounced over roots without looking down. Dara Deer leapt between patches of sunlight. Even the little ants marched as if someone had rung a bell and told them breakfast would disappear in ten seconds.
“Come on, Toby,” called Rafi. “The guava tree is dropping fruit by the stream.”
“I am coming,” said Toby.
“You always say that,” laughed Rafi, already halfway down the path.
Toby did not mind. He checked where he was going, stepped over a twig, and continued.
That afternoon, the animals decided to hold a race from the old rain tree to the hill of yellow flowers. The prize was a basket of sweet rambutan, polished red and tied with a leaf ribbon.
“You should enter,” said Dara, though she was trying not to smile.
“I think I will,” said Toby.
Rafi nearly rolled into a fern from laughing. “You will still be racing tomorrow.”
Toby looked at the winding path. It crossed a shallow stream, climbed a stony slope, passed a patch of sleepy mud, and finished beneath a tall bamboo arch. “Tomorrow is not so far away,” he said.
