The Ant and the Grasshopper

It was the middle of summer, and the field was humming.

The grass was tall and gold. The sun was warm on every leaf. And on the tallest stalk of all sat Grasshopper, playing his fiddle and singing at the top of his voice.

"La-la-la, the sun is high! La-la-la, the sky is blue!"

Down below, a small brown ant came marching past. On her back she carried a grain of wheat that was nearly as big as she was.

Too busy to play

"Good morning, Ant!" called Grasshopper. "Where are you going in such a hurry?"

"To my nest," puffed Ant. "I am taking this grain home to store."

"Store it? Whatever for?" Grasshopper laughed. "There is food everywhere! Come and sit with me. I'll teach you a song."

Ant shook her head. "Thank you, but I can't. Summer won't last for ever. When winter comes, the fields will be bare. I want my store to be full before then."

"Winter!" said Grasshopper. "Winter is ages away. Why worry about winter on a lovely day like this?"

And he played a long, happy tune while Ant marched off with her grain.

The next day, Ant came past again, carrying another grain. And the day after that. And the day after that.

Every time, Grasshopper called out, "Still working? Silly Ant! Come and dance!"

And every time, Ant smiled, said "Not today," and kept on walking.

The days grow shorter

Slowly, the summer began to change.

The mornings grew cool and misty. The leaves on the trees turned yellow, then orange, then brown, and came twirling down to the ground. The farmer cut the wheat and carried it away. The field that had been so full of food grew quieter and emptier each day.

Grasshopper noticed that his fiddle sounded a little shaky in the cold. He noticed that it was harder to find a juicy leaf for lunch. But he told himself, "I'll find something tomorrow."

Ant noticed too. She and her sisters worked even harder now, hurrying back and forth, filling every little room of their nest with seeds and grain.

Then, one night, the first frost came.

In the morning, the whole field was white and sparkling. The grass was stiff and crunchy. And there was nothing, nothing at all, for a grasshopper to eat.

A knock at the door

Grasshopper wandered across the frozen field. His legs were cold. His tummy was empty. His fiddle was tucked under his arm, but he did not feel like playing it.

At last he came to a small hole in the ground, with a warm smell of wheat drifting out of it. It was Ant's nest.

He knocked very gently.

Ant opened the door. Behind her, the nest was cosy and bright, and Grasshopper could see rows and rows of stored grain.

"Oh, Ant," he said, in a very small voice. "I'm so hungry. There's nothing left in the field. Could you spare a little food?"

Ant looked at him for a long moment.

"Grasshopper," she said, "what were you doing all summer, while I was carrying grain?"

Grasshopper hung his head. "I was singing," he said. "I sang all day long. I thought summer would never end."

"Well," said Ant, "you sang all summer. And now it is winter, and the singing won't fill your tummy."

Grasshopper's eyes filled with tears. He turned to go.

A lesson and a song

"Wait," said Ant.

She went inside and came back with a few grains of wheat. "Here. This is enough for today. But tomorrow, you'll help us. There's still work to do: sweeping the store rooms, mending the doorway, keeping the nest warm. Will you work for your supper?"

Grasshopper nodded so hard his feelers wobbled. "I will! I promise I will."

And he did. All that winter he swept and carried and mended alongside the ants. It was the hardest work he had ever done.

But in the evenings, when the work was finished, the ants gathered round, tired and happy, and asked him for a tune. So Grasshopper took out his fiddle and played, and the whole nest danced.

When spring came at last, and the field turned green again, Grasshopper was still singing. But now, between his songs, he gathered a little food every day, and put it safely away for the winter.

"Good morning, Ant!" he would call as she marched past.

"Good morning, Grasshopper!" she would call back. And sometimes, just sometimes, she stopped to dance.

About this story

This fable is credited to Aesop, a storyteller of ancient Greece, though fables under his name were told and collected by many people over many centuries. In the oldest versions, the ants send the grasshopper away with nothing, and the story is a sharp warning about laziness. Many tellers since have chosen a gentler ending, as we have here, so that the lesson about planning ahead comes with a little kindness too. This version is a shortened, simplified retelling.