Once upon a time, in a bright green forest, there lived a little hare named Hazel. Hazel was the most popular animal in the whole wood. She was cheerful and kind, and she had a bright smile for everyone she met.
Because she was so nice, all the other animals claimed to be her very best friend. Every morning the horse neighed happily when he saw her. The bull gave a friendly nod. The goat bleated a warm hello. The ram waved, and the little calf trotted along beside her.
“Oh, Hazel,” they would all say, puffing out their chests, “we are completely devoted to you. If you ever need anything at all, you have only to ask.”
Hazel felt very happy, and very safe.
How lucky I am, she thought, to have so many wonderful friends to look after me.
The Sound of Danger
But one chilly afternoon, while Hazel was nibbling at some sweet clover, a terrifying sound came echoing through the trees.
AWOOOO! BARK! BARK! BARK!
It was the baying of a pack of hunting hounds.
Hazel’s long ears shot straight up. Her little pink nose twitched in panic. They had her scent, and they were coming her way, and they were coming fast.
Filled with terror, Hazel knew she could not face them alone. She needed her friends.
She sprinted as fast as her paws would carry her to the pasture, and found the horse.
“Dear friend! Please help me!” Hazel panted, her heart thumping. “The hounds are after me. Will you let me hop onto your broad back and carry me away to safety?”
The horse shifted his hooves and looked away.
“Oh, dear Hazel, I should love to,” he said smoothly, “but I have some incredibly urgent business for the farmer today. I haven’t a second to lose. Don’t worry — I’m sure one of your many other friends will help you.”
And with a flick of his tail he trotted away.
Running Out of Choices
Hazel’s ears drooped, but she did not give up. She ran to the bull, who was chewing grass by the fence.
“Please, mighty bull!” she begged, tears in her eyes. “The hounds are coming! Will you stand across the path and toss them away with your great strong horns?”
The bull snorted and kicked up a little dirt.
“I am deeply sorry, little hare,” he rumbled, “but I have a very important appointment at the far side of the field that I simply cannot break. I shouldn’t like to keep the herd waiting. Why not ask the goat?”
So Hazel turned and rushed to the goat. But the goat only backed away, shaking her head.
“Oh, my horns are so sharp, and so clumsy,” she bleated. “I’m afraid that if I tried to help I might poke you by accident. It’s far too risky.”
Panicking now, with the barking growing louder behind her, Hazel ran to the ram.
“Will you help me?” she cried.
“Oh, goodness, no,” the ram whimpered, tucking in his chin. “Those hounds are vicious. If I try to stop them they might come after me as well. I daren’t risk it.”
Finally, in complete desperation, Hazel turned to the little calf.
“Please. Could you carry me?”
The calf took a step backwards into the shadows. “I’m far too young and inexperienced to take on a whole pack of hounds,” he squeaked. “I’d only get in the way.”
The True Escape
Hazel stood alone in the clearing.
The barking was right behind the bushes now. Then the leaves burst apart and the hounds came through.
Hazel looked around her. Every single one of her devoted friends had found a perfect excuse. Not one of them was standing beside her. They had all gone off to look after themselves.
And so, understanding at last that she had no one to rely on but herself, Hazel did not waste another second feeling sorry about it. She lowered her head, gathered every scrap of strength in her strong back legs, and launched herself forward like an arrow.
BOING! BOING! BOING!
She zigged and she zagged through the briars. She leaped high logs. She darted through gaps so narrow that the heavy hounds could not begin to follow.
And in the end, Hazel escaped by using her own swift, powerful legs — exactly as she always had, and exactly as she always would.
From that day on, Hazel still smiled at all the other animals. But she never again mistook a polite greeting for true friendship.
The Moral of the Story: A person with many friends may have no true friend at all. It is easy to call yourself somebody’s friend when times are happy. A true friend is the one who stays beside you when things get hard and frightening. Value quality over quantity.