The Ant And The Dove
Aesop
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Retold by The Legendary Connection
TLC#00093
Once upon a time, in a meadow that sparkled with wildflowers and sang with the hum of bees, there lived a small Ant. She wasn’t much to look at, no bigger than a crumb, with tiny legs that moved faster than most could see. But oh, how busy and brave she was.
The Ant worked hard every day, marching back and forth between her nest and the nearby stream. She carried food, built tunnels, and helped her colony stay safe and strong. Life for an Ant was full of purpose. Still, the Ant sometimes wished she could slow down and simply enjoy the world’s wonders, like the breeze that tickled the grass, the golden sunlight flickering through the trees, and the sound of the stream babbling like a happy storyteller.
One summer morning, after a night of gentle rain, the world glistened as if sprinkled with diamonds. The Ant ventured out early, eager to collect dewdrops and fallen seeds while the air was still cool.
She followed her usual path, her tiny feet tapping along a root that curved near the stream. The stream was peaceful today, its waters gliding smoothly over smooth stones and tiny pebbles. The Ant leaned in close, her feelers quivering with delight at the sight of a bright berry bobbing at the edge of the water.
But just as she reached for it, the root she stood on slipped. The Ant tumbled down the muddy bank and into the stream with a tiny plop! The cold water rushed around her, carrying her away like a speck of dust caught in the wind. She kicked and struggled, but her legs were made for land, not water. Each second pulled her farther from home. The Ant’s heart beat wildly. Was this the end?
Up above, in the boughs of an old elm tree, a Dove watched the stream. She was a kind creature with soft white feathers and gentle eyes that always seemed to notice what others missed.
She had been resting in the tree, enjoying the stillness of the morning, when a flicker of motion below caught her eye. She looked down and saw the Ant flailing in the water, barely staying afloat. The Dove’s heart fluttered. Though the Ant was small, her life was no less important. She must be saved.
Without a moment’s hesitation, the Dove plucked a broad green leaf from a nearby branch and flew down low over the stream. With great care, she dropped the leaf just ahead of the struggling Ant. The current carried it close enough for the Ant to grab hold.
Trembling and soaked, the Ant climbed onto the leaf. It bobbed and wobbled but held her above the water. Safe. Slowly, the leaf floated toward a gentle bend in the stream where the water grew calm. The Ant crawled to shore, exhausted but alive.
She turned back to see the Dove watching from a branch nearby. The Ant bowed her head low in gratitude. “You saved me,” she whispered, though her voice was no louder than a sigh. The Dove dipped her head with a smile and flew away, graceful and quiet as the wind.
Days passed. The Ant returned to her duties, but now she carried more than food. She carried a deep respect for kindness and a heart filled with thankfulness.
Then, one warm afternoon, as the Ant was gathering seeds near the base of a tall tree, she heard a rustle above. Looking up, she saw the Dove again. The gentle bird had returned to the same tree, perching calmly on a branch, her feathers catching the light like silver. But the Ant also saw something else.
A hunter.
Creeping through the tall grass, barefoot and silent, the man held a long stick and pointed straight at the Dove. His eyes were narrow, fixed on the bird. One more step, and he would take aim.
The Ant’s heart thudded. She had no wings, no voice loud enough to cry out, but she had her wits. Quick as lightning, the Ant scrambled up the hunter’s foot, then his leg, and without hesitation, bit the tender skin behind his knee.
“YOW!” the man cried, stumbling back in surprise. The stick clattered to the ground. The Dove, startled, beat her wings and soared safely away.
The hunter looked around wildly, swatting at the pain, but the Ant had already vanished into the grass, her mission complete.
Up in the sky, the Dove circled once before settling high in another tree. She looked down, and though she couldn’t see the Ant among the green blades below, she seemed to understand. A small kindness had returned to her just when she needed it most.
And somewhere in the grass, the Ant paused in her work, eyes turned skyward. She knew that the Dove was safe, and that was enough.
Source: Aesop. The Aesop for Children. RAND McNALLY & CO., 1919. Edited by Milo Winter. https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/19994/pg19994-images.html#Page_104