Erenlai - Items filtered by date: Sunday, 25 February 2007
Monday, 26 February 2007 05:30

The Goose and the Hen

Once upon a time a goose landed in a farmyard and met a hen...

Goose and Hen stared at each other, sizing each other up. The goose had beautiful wings and he was very, very proud of his ability to fly long distances. The hen had wings, too, but she couldn’t fly. Her pride was in her ability to lay eggs and produce numerous offspring.

“My goodness,” thought Goose to himself. “What an ugly bird Hen is. And she can’t even fly. And what a wretched existence she has, spending her whole life in a dirty old farmyard.”

Hen for her part considered herself lucky. “The poor creature has to spend all his time and energy flying around the world in search of food, while I have everything I need right here.”

Finally, Goose spoke. “Why do you have wings? What use are they? A bird who can’t fly is a disgrace to all other birds.”

To this Hen replied, “I feel sorry for you having to fly around all the time. When do you ever have time to spend with your family? Do you have any children?”

“Three,” replied Goose. “And you?” “Eighteen of those chicks over there are my latest brood. The others are grown up already.”

“Do you ever get tired flying around and wish to settle down?”

“No,” answered Goose. “I like to travel and see the world. Do
you?”

“No,” said Hen, “the thought never occurred to me.”

After Goose left, Hen did begin to think about what Goose had said.

She began to envy the wings of Goose and yearn for a look at the outside world. “Maybe I can’t fly because I’ve never had to try,” she thought. So from that day on, Hen started to exercise flapping her wings, Trying to get off the ground, but it just didn’t work.

“Maybe, if I start from a high place, I can fly,” she thought. So Hen managed to jump up on a pile of wood. From there she reached the low end of the henhouse and walked to the highest point of the roof. After some hesitation, while she gathered up enough courage, she leapt from the edge of the roof wildly flapping her wings.

Hen still couldn’t manage to stay up, but neither did she plunge straight down to the ground. With wings outstretched she just glided gently, though a bit too quickly, down to the ground at some distance from the henhouse.

“My wings are useful after all,” she cried. “I can’t fly, but I can
glide.”

Just then a weasel broke into the farmyard looking for a chick to eat.

At once Hen instinctively ran over to her chicks. She gathered as many of them as she could under the protection of her wings. From that time on, Hen was very happy with the wings she had and never felt inclined to try flying again.

Meanwhile, after Goose left Hen he began to envy Hen.

He was impressed with her numerous offspring and thought how nice it would be to have barnyard always full of food. So when Goose got home he began to think how wonderful it would be to have as many children as Hen did. He even asked his wife to lay more eggs.

“Are you crazy?” exclaimed Mrs. Goose. “Have you forgotten already how much you complain of the work when you have to build a nest for just four eggs?”

When Goose described the farmyard with food all year round, Mrs. Goose shook her head in disbelief. “Getting you to stay around while the kids are so helpless is an effort. You can’t stand being cooped up in one place all the time.”

“Don’t tell me you wouldn’t yearn for all the scenery on our long flights that you are always raving about. Besides, what will happen in wintertime, when everything freezes and is covered with snow?”

“She’s right as usual,” thought Goose, without admitting that to her.

“I just wasn’t thinking. No matter how you look at it, the life of
a goose is so much better than the life of a hen.”

And that is precisely what that Hen was thinking. “I feel so sorry for poor Goose who has so few children and no farmyard for them to grow up in.”

There are lessons hidden here.

We all tend to believe that the grass on the other side
of the fence is greener than the grass on our side.

Perhaps it is greener, but it is usually not as good for us
as the grass under our own feet.

If hens could fly and migrate, would life be hard for farmers?
If geese stayed on farms would there be a shortage of eggs?

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Monday, 26 February 2007 04:55

The melancholy of the shore

Between France and England there are many islands, some rather large in size, other very small. The sky takes strange colors, the melancholy of the nearby Brittany coast permeates everything, little boats seem lost and useless… And yet, their presence shows that the coast is always near. The sea can be tempestuous, but is not large. Men navigate endlessly from one shore to another.. In these watercolors, hope and melancholy seem to be the two faces of the same coin. Is it not the destiny of every island to harbor the remembrance of things past and to remind us that the wind always blows for leading us into new directions?

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