A bystander’s Hare and Tortoise Fable

Once upon a time in the heart of the lush, green countryside, there existed a small community of animals who lived in relative harmony. It was a picturesque place, with winding dirt paths, blooming wildflowers, and a gentle stream that meandered through the landscape. Among this close-knit group were three particular friends: a Hare named Harold, a Tortoise named Thomas, and myself, a squirrel named Simon.

One warm afternoon, as we lounged under the shade of a grand old oak tree, the conversation took an unexpected turn.

“Harold, you’re always zipping about, racing against the wind,” Thomas said, his voice a slow and steady drawl. “Have you ever thought about slowing down to enjoy the scenery?”

Harold chuckled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Thomas, my dear friend, if I slowed down any more, I’d be as stationary as you!” He gave me a wink, and I couldn’t help but laugh at his cheeky remark.

“But isn’t there more to life than speed?” Thomas pondered aloud. “Isn’t it about savoring each moment, no matter how long it takes?”

I decided to stir the pot a little. “Why don’t you two have a race then? A proper one. Let’s see if speed or persistence truly prevails.”

Thomas and Harold looked at each other, their expressions a mix of curiosity and amusement. “You know, Simon, that’s not a bad idea,” Harold said, grinning.

“Alright then,” Thomas agreed, his eyes gleaming with optimism. “Let’s do it. But no tricks, Harold.”

“Scout’s honor,” Harold said, raising a paw.

The date was set, and the entire animal community buzzed with excitement. On the day of the race, a crowd gathered along the designated path, chattering animatedly. Harold, with his sleek, muscular legs, bounced on the spot, ready to dash off at a moment’s notice. Thomas, on the other hand, remained calm, his demeanor reflecting his inner resolve.

I stood at the starting line, acorn in paw, ready to signal the start. “On your marks, get set, go!” I called out, tossing the acorn into the air.

Harold shot off like a lightning bolt, leaving a cloud of dust in his wake. Thomas began his journey at his usual unhurried pace, a small smile playing on his lips.

As Harold sped along, he couldn’t resist showing off a bit, performing little leaps and spins. After a while, he noticed how far ahead he was and thought, “Why not take a little nap? There’s no way Thomas can catch up.” He found a cozy spot under a shady tree and dozed off, confident in his victory.

Meanwhile, Thomas trudged steadily forward, his determination unwavering. He passed by Harold, who was snoring softly under his tree, and continued without a second glance.

I kept an eye on both of them, darting back and forth to update the crowd. “Harold’s still snoozing,” I reported, eliciting a mix of chuckles and gasps. “And Thomas is just inching along, one step at a time.”

As the sun began to dip towards the horizon, Harold woke up with a start. “Oh no!” he exclaimed, realizing how much time had passed. He bolted upright and dashed off, his heart pounding with panic.

But it was too late. Just as Harold approached the finish line, Thomas crossed it with a triumphant smile, the crowd erupting in cheers.

Harold skidded to a halt, panting heavily. “Well, I’ll be,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. “You did it, Thomas. You actually did it.”

Thomas smiled warmly. “It wasn’t about winning, Harold. It was about proving that persistence and patience can accomplish great things.”

As we celebrated Thomas’s victory, I noticed something peculiar about the path Thomas had taken. There were strange, little symbols etched into the dirt, like a secret code. I crouched down to inspect them, my curiosity piqued.

“Thomas, what are these markings?” I asked, pointing to the symbols.

Thomas’s eyes widened for a brief moment before he laughed. “Ah, you’ve found my little secret,” he said with a twinkle in his eye.

“What secret?” Harold asked, peering over my shoulder.

Thomas sighed, a grin spreading across his face. “Well, you see, while you were busy napping, I encountered an old friend along the way — the owl, Olivia. She taught me a bit of a trick involving the natural currents of the earth. These markings? They help me navigate using the magnetic fields. It’s something we tortoises are particularly attuned to.”

Harold and I stared at him, mouths agape. “You mean, you had an edge this whole time?” Harold asked, incredulous.

Thomas nodded. “In a way, yes. But it wasn’t just about the markings. It was also about having faith in the journey and knowing that sometimes, unseen forces help guide us.”

Harold burst into laughter. “Well, I’ll be. And here I thought I was the clever one!”

I couldn’t help but chuckle as well. “This just makes the victory even more remarkable, Thomas.”

Something to think about:

• Are there hidden forces in life guiding us that we are unaware of?
• How much do our unseen abilities contribute to our success?
• Is it possible that the journey itself, with all its secrets and mysteries, is more important than the destination?