Long ago, in a little mountain town, there stood a school at the edge of a steep hillside. The children loved to play there, and every morning their laughter rang out like bells. But deep inside the mountain, the earth was restless. Heavy rains had soaked the ground, and a landslide was waiting to happen.
One afternoon, a gentle traveller came through the town. Nobody knew his name, but he had kind eyes and a voice that calmed even the most restless child. When he saw the school on the slope, he felt a shiver in his heart. He could sense danger beneath the soil.
The very next morning, he appeared at the schoolyard. With a smile, he invited all the children to follow him to the meadow by the river. He told them he would show them a game with music, dancing, and stories. The children, curious and cheerful, skipped after him, leaving their classrooms behind.
As they played in the meadow, the ground beneath the school suddenly shook. With a mighty roar, the hillside collapsed, and the school was swallowed by the landslide. Dust filled the air, and the townsfolk rushed out in fear. But when they saw their children safe in the meadow, laughing and alive, their fear turned into tears of joy.
The traveller bowed to the parents, then quietly left the town, never to be seen again. No one knew who he was: guardian, angel, or simply a wise wanderer.
From that day on, the townsfolk decided that every year, they would celebrate the children who had been saved. They called it Children’s Day, to remember the miracle, the joy, and the preciousness of every child.
And so, each year, children played in the meadows, their laughter a reminder of the day they were led to safety.
The End.