Moral-Lesson

Deep down in the warm, sparkling waters of a sandy ocean bay, there lived a family of bright red hermit crabs. The mother crab, whose name was Constanza, was very proud indeed. She loved everything to be tidy, and proper, and just right. One bright morning, Constanza was sitting on top of a smooth piece of driftwood, watching her young son Oliver scurry across the sand. Oliver was having a wonderful time, chasing tiny bubbles and dodging the waving green seaweed. ...

Once upon a time, deep in the rocky hills of a wild forest, there lived a wolf named Winston. Now, Winston was an ordinary-sized wolf. But he had an extraordinary imagination. One beautiful summer evening, Winston crawled out of his cosy stone lair. The air was cool, the first stars were beginning to twinkle, and Winston was in fine spirits indeed. He stretched his long legs, let out an enormous yawn, and noticed that his stomach was rumbling. He had an excellent appetite, and he was ready to go and hunt his dinner. ...

In Georgia, in the olden times, there lived a wise and noble woman, Queen Magdana, who ruled her rich green land justly. When her husband died, her son Rostomel became the sole love of her life. She loved him more than words can convey, and she watched fondly as the tender, callow youth grew into sturdy manhood. Nor was she the only one who thought him handsomer than all others. ...

Long ago, so long ago that even the trees whisper it only in secret, the mice of a grand old farmhouse lived in fear every single day. They had warm burrows under the floorboards, and they loved to sneak out at night to nibble crumbs from the pantry or race across the moonlit kitchen tiles. But their joy was always short-lived, because there were cats. Big cats with bright eyes. Sneaky cats with velvet paws. Fast cats with claws as sharp as needles. And whenever a mouse ventured out, a cat might spring from the shadows! ...

Once upon a time, in a busy meadow, there lived a very small ant. Though tiny, the ant had a heart full of courage. One hot summer’s day, the sun blazed so fiercely that the streams dried up, and the grass curled into brown wisps. The ant grew desperately thirsty. He scurried here and there, searching for even a drop of water. Scuttle-scuttle, scuttle-scuttle! He peered under leaves, checked between pebbles, and even climbed a tall stalk of wheat, but there was nothing. ...

Once upon a time, there lived a humped camel and a cunning jackal. The camel was a big, strong, and slow-moving creature with a gentle heart. The jackal, however, was small, sharp-witted, and always looking for an easy meal or a clever trick. Now, their homes were separated by a wide, gurgling river. The tastiest treats the jackal could imagine — sweet sugar cane, fresh fish, and crunchy crabs — grew on the other side. But the jackal hated the water! It would splash and bubble, and he simply could not swim across. ...

Once upon a time, in a wide green meadow, there lived a donkey. He was a simple, hardworking creature, but he often sighed and muttered to himself, “Why does no one take me seriously? Cows munch grass, sheep follow each other, and horses gallop fast, but me? Everyone laughs at my long ears and my loud hee-haw! I wish I could be respected, even feared!” One hot afternoon, while wandering near the forest, the donkey stumbled across something strange. Hanging on a low branch was the dried skin of a lion that hunters had left behind. The donkey’s eyes grew wide. ...

Once upon a time, in a bustling forest of towering trees and bright green leaves, there lived three stag beetle brothers named Stew, Stan, and Spike. They were known throughout the undergrowth for two things: the great antlered mandibles they carried on their heads, and the bond between them, which nothing had ever managed to break. Wherever one went, the other two were rarely far behind. One sunny morning their mother called them to her side. ...

The reef was quiet the next morning. Manta and Sharky glided through the water, still uneasy from yesterday’s encounter with the strange floating bags. “I keep thinking about those creatures,” said Manta softly. “They weren’t food, but they almost killed you.” “I’ll never bite one again,” said Sharky, snapping his tail. “But they’re everywhere, drifting like ghosts.” As they rounded a rocky corner, they spotted something curious. A cloud of sand puffed from the seabed, poof, and a small shadow wriggled out. Eight little arms waved about like ribbons. ...

Morning light shone through the waves, painting the water in soft silver and blue. Manta stretched his wide wings. Swoooosh, flap! Sharky yawned, showing off his rows of tiny teeth. “Morning, Manta,” said Sharky sleepily. “Morning, Sharky! Let’s go find breakfast!” chirped Manta. But today, something unusual drifted in the water. All around them, strange shapes floated lazily: some small, some big, some blue, some white, even pink and green. They twirled and flapped like jellyfish, but they didn’t glow, and they didn’t swim on their own. ...