All through the warm days of summer, a grasshopper hopped about the meadow, singing and chirping to his heart’s content. Nearby, a colony of ants labored in the sun, marching one behind another as they carried grains of wheat back to their nest.
“Why work so hard on such a beautiful day?” called the grasshopper. “Come and sing with me instead.”
“We are storing food for the winter,” said one of the ants, pausing only a moment before returning to her load. “And you would be wise to do the same.”
The grasshopper only laughed. “Winter is far away, and there is plenty to eat today.” And off he went, fiddling his tune while the ants worked on.
In time the golden days faded. The wind turned sharp, the fields lay bare, and snow settled over the meadow. The grasshopper, cold and hungry, could not find a single crumb to eat. Shivering, he made his way to the ants’ snug nest, where they were living comfortably on all they had gathered.
“Please,” he begged, “might you spare me a little something to eat?”
The ants looked at him kindly, but shook their heads. “All summer long we worked while you sang,” they said. “Now, we are afraid, you must dance the winter through as best you can.”
There is a time for work and a time for play.