The Swan and the Crow

High up in a sturdy oak tree lived a Crow. He wasn’t a normal crow; he lived near the King’s palace. Every day, the servants would throw out delicious leftovers from the royal kitchen—spicy curries, sweet rice, and soft bread. The Crow ate wonderful food every day. He grew fat, sleek, and very arrogant. “Look at me!” he would caw to the other birds. “My feathers are shiny as coal. My eyes are sharp. And I can fly better than any of you!” He would do loops in the air and dive-bomb the sparrows. “Out of my way, weaklings!”

One day, a flock of Swans flew down to the nearby lake. They were magnificent white birds with long, elegant necks. They glided on the water like clouds. The Crow watched them with jealousy. “Why is everyone looking at them?” he grumbled. “White is such a boring color. Black is much more stylish.” He flew down to the lake and landed on a rock next to a young Swan. “Hey you!” shouted the Crow. “You tackle-box! You think you are so special just because you are big? I bet you can’t fly like me.” The Swan looked at him calmly. “We do not fly for show, brother Crow,” he said gently. “We fly to travel great distances.” “Excuses!” scoffed the Crow. “I challenge you to a race. Let us fly across the ocean to the distant island. Or are you scared?”

The other Swans gathered around. “Don’t bother with him,” they said. But the young Swan nodded. “Very well. If you insist, we shall race.” The race began. Flap! Flap! Flap! The Crow took off like a rocket. He flapped his wings furiously. He spun. He twirled. He flew ahead of the Swan. “Hahaha!” laughed the Crow. “Look at you! You are so slow! I am winning!” The Swan didn’t answer. He just beat his great white wings—Whoosh… Whoosh…—in a steady, powerful rhythm.

They flew over the beach. They flew over the waves. The land disappeared behind them. For the first hour, the Crow was ahead. He mocked the Swan. But soon, the Crow’s wings began to ache. He was used to short flights around the palace, not long journeys. He panted. His heavy belly dragged him down. The ocean below was vast and endless. There were no trees, no rocks, no place to rest. The Swan kept flying, steady and strong. He passed the Crow easily. “Wait!” gasped the Crow. “Wait for me!” But the Swan was far ahead. The Crow fluttered. He couldn’t lift his wings. He started to fall towards the dark waves. “Help!” he cried. “I am drowning! Help!”

The Swan heard his cry. He turned back and flew down. “Are you doing a new trick?” asked the Swan politely. “No!” wept the Crow. “I am tired! I am falling! Please save me!” The Swan felt pity. “Climb on my back,” he said. The exhausted Crow scrambled onto the Swan’s soft, white back. The Swan carried him all the way back to the shore. The Crow hopped off, his head hanging low. He was ashamed. “Thank you,” he whispered. “I was a fool. I will never boast again.”

Moral of the Story: Pride goes before a fall. Recognize your own limits and respect the strengths of others.