The Ant and the Locust: A Tale of Hard Work and Laziness

Once upon a time in a peaceful meadow nestled between rolling hills, lived an ant named Anar and a locust named Lalu. The two were as different as creatures could be. Anar was small, quiet, and diligent, always thinking about the future. Lalu, on the other hand, was lively, loud, and carefree — his motto was “Why worry about tomorrow when today is so beautiful?”

Spring had just arrived, and the meadow was bursting with life. Flowers bloomed in every corner, bees hummed in the air, and the sun warmed the earth with a golden glow. Anar and his fellow ants got to work immediately. They knew that summer would pass quickly and winter would be harsh.

Day after day, Anar would march across the meadow carrying grains, seeds, and crumbs twice his size. He stored them carefully in the underground tunnels of his ant hill. He worked from sunrise to sunset, only pausing to rest in the shade for a moment or two.

Lalu, on the other hand, spent his days basking in the sun, singing songs, and hopping from one leaf to another.

One afternoon, as Anar dragged a heavy crumb across the field, Lalu fluttered down beside him.

“Why are you working so hard, Anar?” Lalu laughed, plucking a blade of grass and playing it like a flute. “The sun is shining, the breeze is sweet — come sing and dance with me!”

Anar paused, wiped the sweat from his brow, and said, “I would love to, Lalu. But winter will be here before we know it. If I don’t gather food now, I’ll have nothing to eat when the cold comes.”

Lalu chuckled, “Winter is months away! There’s time! Let’s enjoy the season while it lasts!”

And with that, he leapt into the air, twirling through the flowers as he sang a tune about freedom and fun.

Days turned to weeks, and weeks to months. Summer came, and with it, warmth and abundance. Anar continued his work, building deeper tunnels and stacking food neatly. Occasionally, he’d look up to see Lalu doing flips in the air or performing for a group of admiring grasshoppers. Anar would smile softly and return to his tasks.

By the time autumn painted the leaves in shades of gold and crimson, the meadow began to quiet. The bees disappeared, the flowers wilted, and the wind carried a chill that whispered of the approaching winter.

Anar made one last trip outside to collect fallen seeds. He passed Lalu, who was still singing, though now with a hoarse voice and a thinner frame.

“Lalu,” Anar said gently, “you should start preparing for winter. It’s coming sooner than you think.”

Lalu yawned. “Oh, Anar. You’ve been saying that for months. I’m sure I’ll manage. Maybe I’ll find food somewhere. Maybe I won’t even get cold!”

Anar sighed but said nothing more. He returned to his cozy home, sealed the entrance, and waited for winter.

And winter did come.

It came with howling winds, heavy snow, and biting frost. The meadow, once green and full of life, was now a silent, white blanket. The trees stood bare, the streams froze, and not a single crumb of food was to be found outside.

Anar was safe and warm in his ant hill. He sat with his fellow ants, feasting on the food they had gathered all year. There was laughter, stories, and even music from a leaf harp one ant had made. It was a peaceful time, even if it was cold outside.

But outside, things were very different.

Lalu had no shelter. The leaves he had once slept on were gone. The places he danced had turned into icy ground. Hunger gnawed at his belly, and the wind chilled his wings. For the first time in his life, Lalu regretted not listening to Anar.

Desperate and freezing, he remembered the ant hill. With weak legs, he dragged himself through the snow until he reached the tiny entrance of Anar’s home.

He tapped on the frozen soil and called out, “Anar… are you there? It’s me, Lalu…”

Inside, Anar heard the faint voice. He peeked out and was shocked to see the once-proud locust shivering and starving.

Without hesitation, Anar opened the entrance and brought Lalu inside. The warm air wrapped around the locust like a blanket. He was given food, and after eating a little, tears filled his eyes.

“I should have listened to you, Anar,” he whispered. “You tried to warn me. I thought life was only for singing and fun… but now I see how blind I was.”

Anar smiled kindly and placed a tiny seed in Lalu’s hand. “It’s never too late to learn, my friend. Rest now. But when spring comes again, will you work beside me?”

Lalu nodded with all his heart. “Yes, I will. I promise.”

And so, the winter passed. When spring returned and the first flowers bloomed, the meadow came back to life. Anar stepped out of his hill, and beside him stood Lalu — no longer just a singer, but now a worker too.

From that day on, they were never seen apart — the ant and the locust, a perfect pair. One wise and steady, the other joyful and free — and together, they taught the meadow a lesson: that both work and play have their place, and that balance is the key to a good life.