Nick Klaus's Fables

of me,” the grain of sand said, hoping to locate where the voice came from.

  “I can make you feel very special, if you wish so,” said the voice.

  This time, the grain of sand discovered that the voice came from the seashell he was perched on.

  “Very special? How very special?” it asked unable to resist the temptation to learn more.

  “In a way that everyone will only look at you with envy.”

  “You are just a seashell,” said the grain of sand.

  “I’m a special seashell, an oyster which lives near grains of sand for a reason. I’ve been looking for you.”

  “For me?” couldn’t help saying the grain of sand eyes wide opened.

  “Yes, you. If you come and live inside me, you will become so precious and big that everyone’s eyes will be shining on you.” Upon which the oyster opened its shell to let the grain of sand in. It hesitated at first. It looks like the inside of a shark. Dark and rather tight. Not that it had already been inside a shark but had been told. Still, the prospect of becoming precious and different from all the other grains of sand proved irresistible.

  “Would you let me go out whenever I want to?” said the grain of sand moving closer to the entrance.

  “You are free to go at will,” answered the oyster. “Just knock on the shell and I’ll open it. Reassured, the grain of sand took residence inside the oyster. It was not long before it noticed it was getting bigger and shinier than any other grain of sand lying on bottom of the sea. Once in a while, it would knock on the shell and venture at the mouth of the oyster, and with a satisfied grin, it rejoiced how different it was becoming. When it grew big enough to be the special grain of sand in the sea, it bid farewell to the oyster. Time had come to go back to the bottom of the sea and be the special grain of sand that everyone noticed. Thanking the oyster gratefully for its hospitality, it knocked on the shell. The shell opened but the grain of sand could not get through.

  “Would you please open your shell wider and let me out,” shouted the grain of sand frustrated.

  “This is as big as I can open it,” said the oyster chuckling. “I’m afraid you have grown so precious and so big that you can no longer fit through the opening of my shell.”

  “What are you saying,” said the grain of sand in fear.

  “You can no longer escape from me, but you are so precious and shiny that you are now the pearl of my eyes,” said the oyster.

  Unable to escape, the grain of sand watched through the shell’s opening, all the other grains of sand, wishing it could be the same as they were and be with them.

  The Squirrel and the Gazelle (#38)

  A counsel of squirrels met on the top of a tall oak tree. Something had to be done. This situation could not longer be. The squirrels got into a circle, arms wrapped around each other’s shoulders and whispered so low that a squirrel with two broken legs in cast stuck on a lower branch could not hear them.

  “I can’t hear you. What’s the problem? What are you talking about?” he shouted.

  But the counsel of squirrels went on whispering without paying attention to the request. Upset the squirrel cursed at his broken legs, but he had no choice. He could barely hoist himself up and down a branch, how could he climb to the top of the tree? Feeling left out, he waited sitting on a branch near the bottom.

  “What were you talking about?” he rushed to ask once the counsel was over and the squirrels spread about the tree.

  “Nothing,” said the first squirrel passing by. “Just some advice not to bury nuts and berries for winter in places that get flooded in summer.”

  The squirrel with broken legs did not quite believe it. “Why whispering then?” he asked another squirrel darting to a branch across.

  “Oh, because we want to make sure the birds can’t hear us. You know they love to steal our food.”

  This answer appeased the squirrel with broken legs. He looked around and said: “Of course, of course . . . It’s almost lunchtime, could someone bring me something to eat?” the squirrel asked with the most pleasant voice.

  “Sure, right away,” came the answer from three different squirrels. The squirrel with broken legs was surprised at so many answers. Normally he had to beg someone to bring him something to eat. Unable to move, he depended on the kindness of his peers not die of hunger. His guilt completely disappeared went a mother squirrel brought him a large bowl of nuts and berries.

  “Thank you for being so nice to me,” he said, delighted that several old friends stopped by too to check up on his health. They were just as delighted to see what a great appetite our squirrel with broken legs had.

  “Thank you my friends,” the squirrel with broken legs said. “When my broken legs are fixed, I will gather nuts and berries for all of you so that we can all have a feast together.

  “Go ahead eat,” said the mother squirrel pushing the bowl towards him.

  “I know it’s not easy to share your food with a squirrel with broken legs when we have so little already.”

  “Nonsense,” said a strong squirrel leaping back and forth between two branches impatiently.

  “Go ahead eat,” said another sitting nearby, seeing that the squirrel with broken legs was hesitant. All the squirrels cheered and nodded with approval when the squirrel with broken legs stuffed the entire bowl of nuts and berries down his belly.

  “I should have broken my legs sooner,” the squirrel with broken legs joked. “Even when they were not broken, I never had so much food.” The squirrels gathered around laughed along and cheered. He had not eaten so well since breaking his legs, and he ate so much that he fell asleep the happiest squirrel on earth.

  The strong wind woke up the next day. “I’d better take shelter,” he said to himself, watching grey clouds gathering. He called someone to help him move inside his burrow. No one answered. The squirrel with broken legs looked around. No one was in sight. He shouted for help. But no squirrel was in sight. In fact all the counsel of squirrels had deserted the tree and had left the squirrel with broken legs alone behind. This is when he realized that he was slowly going to die of hunger. He wept and wept and cursed his broken legs even more.

  This is when between two snivels, he heard someone sobbing nearby as well. He looked around and noticed a grown gazelle crouched down in the gross weeping. The gazelle wore a neck-brace.

  “What’s the matter,” said the squirrel with the broken legs, drying his eyes.

  The gazelle got up and could barely lift her head. “My flock has left me behind because I cannot feed myself anymore.”

  The squirrel wasted no time in sharing his own story with the gazelle, whose big brown eyes stared at him in understanding.

  “They left me because I can’t stand up and stretch my neck to eat the leaves on the branches.”

  “They left me because I can’t run on the ground and gather all the lovely nuts and berries for winter.

  The gazelle and the squirrel fell silent at the same time for a moment. Then as if both had heard each other think, they said: “Why don’t we help each other?”

  “I will reach out for the leaves on the branch.” said the squirrel with broken legs.

  “While I can gather the nuts and berries for you,” said the gazelle agreeing at once. And the squirrel and the gazelle traveled together until the squirrel’s legs and the gazelle’s neck healed.

  The Monkey and the Library (#39)

  Once upon a time an ambitious monkey spent too much time reading. He read so many books that he often forgot to do his homework for school several days in row. Her unhappy teacher asked him to stay after class to clean all the windows of the classroom and so to teach him a valuable and practical lesson. “What kind of lesson is that? “ said the monkey equally unhappy about the punishment. “Doing this stupid task will take me away from my homework,” he argued, hoping to change the teacher’s mind. But the teacher was firm. “Spending too much time daydreaming,” she retaliated, “only keeps your head in the c
louds.”

  The monkey stamped his feet. “But I’m learning so much and have become so clever.”

  “A book won’t teach you how to clean windows!” She span around and headed to the playground where the other students played. The monkey shrugged his shoulders. He knew better. What good was to clean windows when he was aiming to be the greatest scientist of all time. Soon, he would have read more books than the teacher herself, and no one would tell him what to do. Cursing under his breath, he picked up an old rag, scrubbed the dusty windows, and made of mess of it. He did not know how to clean windows.

  The other kids noticed him. While some walked by covering their whispers with their hands, others blankly stared at him pointing mocking fingers. The monkey turned his back, though his gesture did little to muffle their laughter. He bit his tongue not to say anything he might regret. He had read somewhere that wise people never engage in pettiness and keep to themselves. His fertile imagination was inspired and came up with a clever plan.

  Tossing the rag aside a short while later, he ran back home, packed a suitcase, and moved far away, to a place where he will be left alone and free to learn everything he fancied to learn.

  He found a tiny room in a small house. Without waiting a minute, he rushed to the nearest bookstore, where he purchased a couple of books. By the evening, he had read both of them and had to wait patiently until the following morning for the bookstore to open. As soon as