The Wanderer Who Shared
The little wanderer carried a tiny light in his hands. It glowed warm and gold.
"If I give it away, I might lose it," he thought. So he kept it close.
When the wind came, he tucked it under his scarf. Not even the wind could take it.
A butterfly floated near to look. He cupped his hands and turned away.
A small bird shivered on a branch. The wanderer saw it, but he looked away and held his light closer.
The light kept him warm. But he walked alone, with only his own footsteps.
Evening came. The path grew dim, and the forest turned blue.
Beside the path, under a big old tree, someone sat very still, in the dark.
"Hello," said the wanderer. "Hello," said a small voice. "My lantern went out."
The wanderer looked at his light. Then at the little fox, shivering. His hands held on tight.
The little fox held his lantern. It was cold and dark. He did not say a word. He only hoped.
"If I share it, mine might shrink," he thought. His heart felt heavy.
The fox did not ask. He only looked up, with big, hopeful eyes.
So, slowly, the wanderer opened his hands. He reached out his light.
Touch. The little lantern woke up. Warm and golden, it glowed.
And the wanderer's own light? It had not shrunk at all. It was brighter.
"How can that be?" he whispered. "Light is funny that way," said the fox.
They walked on together, two small lights, and the dark path grew kind.
Down the path, a sleepy hedgehog had a lantern that had gone out, too. The wanderer touched it with his light, and it woke up.
A rabbit sat in the dark. An owl sat in the dark. A snail, too. One by one, they were lit.
Each light lit another, and another. Soon the whole hillside glowed.
Below the hill, a quiet pond held every light, like a second sky. The wanderer smiled. There was light everywhere now.
That night, he sat cozy by the window, glowing. The more he gave, the more he had.
Next morning, he walked with open hands. He had shared his light. And his world felt warmer. The End.