The Fox and the Stork

The Story

Fox Plans a Dinner

Fox was known all through the woods for his quick feet, bright eyes and clever smile.

He liked to joke. He liked to chatter. Most of all, he liked to feel that he had outsmarted someone.

One sunny morning, Fox sat outside his den and watched Stork stepping through the meadow on her long, thin legs. Stork moved slowly and carefully. Her long beak dipped here and there as she searched for breakfast near the stream.

Fox tilted his head.

“What a strange way to walk,” he said to himself. “And what a long beak! I wonder if Stork can laugh at a joke.”

The more Fox thought about it, the more he wanted to play a trick.

So he brushed his tail, put on his friendliest smile and trotted across the grass.

“Good morning, dear Stork,” said Fox. “What a fine day it is.”

“Good morning, Fox,” said Stork politely.

“I have been thinking,” said Fox. “We are neighbors, yet we hardly ever dine together. Will you come to my home for supper tonight?”

Stork was pleased. She liked friendly invitations, and she believed Fox meant well.

“That is kind of you,” she said. “Thank you. I would be happy to come.”

Fox bowed low.

“Wonderful,” he said. “Come when the sun begins to set. I shall prepare something delicious.”

As Fox turned away, his smile became a grin.

Supper at Fox’s Den

That evening, Stork arrived at Fox’s den just as the sky turned pink and gold.

Fox had set two places on a smooth flat stone. A little lamp glowed beside the doorway. The air smelled warm and savory.

“Welcome, welcome!” cried Fox. “You are just in time.”

“This smells lovely,” said Stork.

“It is my special soup,” said Fox. “Thin, smooth and full of flavor.”

Then Fox carried out the supper.

But he did not serve the soup in deep bowls.

He did not serve it in cups.

He poured the soup into two very shallow plates.

The soup spread across each plate in a thin golden puddle.

Fox bent down and began to lap up his soup at once.

“Delicious!” he said between mouthfuls. “Do eat, dear Stork. Do not be shy.”

Stork lowered her long beak to the plate. She tapped the soup. She tried to scoop some up. She tried again from the side. But her long beak could not gather the thin soup from the flat plate.

Tap, tap, tap went her beak.

Slurp, slurp, slurp went Fox.

“Is something wrong?” asked Fox, pretending to be surprised.

Stork lifted her head. She was hungry, but she kept her voice calm.

“It is a little difficult for me to eat from such a shallow plate,” she said.

“Oh dear,” said Fox. “How unfortunate. I find it quite easy.”

Then he finished his soup, licked his whiskers and leaned back with a satisfied sigh.

Stork had eaten almost nothing.

“Thank you for inviting me,” she said, standing up.

Fox looked pleased with himself.

“Any time,” he said. “I do hope you enjoyed the meal.”

Stork looked at the empty plate and then at Fox.

“I learned something from it,” she said.

Fox did not understand what she meant. He only chuckled as she walked home through the dim evening light.

Stork Sends an Invitation

The next morning, Fox stretched outside his den. He was still amused by his trick.

Then he saw Stork coming along the path.

“Good morning, Fox,” she said.

“Good morning, dear Stork,” said Fox. “Have you come to thank me again for supper?”

“I have come to return your kindness,” said Stork. “Will you dine with me tonight?”

Fox’s ears pricked up.

“With pleasure,” he said. “I always enjoy a good meal.”

“I shall prepare something special,” said Stork.

Fox’s mouth watered at the thought.

“All day,” he told himself, “I will save my appetite.”

So Fox spent the afternoon dreaming of supper. He imagined roasted roots, berries, cakes and thick stew. By sunset, his stomach rumbled like a little drum.

He hurried to Stork’s home by the stream.

Stork had made everything neat and welcoming. Reeds rustled beside the water. Fireflies blinked above the grass. A wonderful smell drifted from her doorway.

“Come in, Fox,” said Stork. “Supper is ready.”

Supper at Stork’s Home

Fox stepped inside and looked around eagerly.

There on the table were two tall, narrow jars. Each jar had a long thin neck and a round belly full of stew.

The stew smelled rich and warm.

Fox licked his lips.

“What an interesting dish,” he said.

“One of my favorites,” said Stork. “Please begin.”

Stork dipped her long beak into her jar. Down went her beak, deep into the narrow neck. Up came a mouthful of stew.

“Very good,” she said. “Do eat, Fox.”

Fox pushed his nose toward his jar.

It would not fit.

He tried to lick the top.

He could only reach a tiny drop.

He tipped his head one way. He tipped his head the other way. He sniffed and snuffled and turned the jar around with his paw.

But the neck of the jar was too narrow for his face.

Stork ate slowly and politely.

Fox’s stomach growled.

“Is something wrong?” asked Stork.

Fox’s ears grew hot.

“It is a little difficult for me to eat from such a narrow jar,” he said.

“Oh dear,” said Stork. “How unfortunate. I find it quite easy.”

Fox looked at Stork.

Stork looked back calmly.

Then Fox remembered the shallow plates at his own den. He remembered Stork tapping at the soup. He remembered how he had laughed inside while she went hungry.

His tail drooped.

Fox Learns the Lesson

At last, Fox stepped back from the table.

“I understand,” he said quietly.

Stork set down her jar.

“Do you?” she asked.

“Yes,” said Fox. “I invited you to supper, but I did not really share with you. I served the food in a way that only I could enjoy. I thought it was a joke, but it was not kind.”

Stork nodded.

“A meal should make a guest feel welcome,” she said. “A joke should not leave someone hungry.”

Fox looked at the floor.

“I am sorry,” he said.

Stork studied him for a moment. Fox did look sorry, and not only because his own stomach was empty.

“Then let us both remember,” said Stork. “If we want kindness, we should offer kindness. If we want fairness, we should be fair.”

Fox nodded.

Stork brought out a small loaf of bread and a bowl wide enough for them both to use.

“This is not part of the lesson,” she said with a small smile. “This is because I do not like to send a guest home hungry.”

Fox smiled back, but this time it was not a sly smile.

“Thank you,” he said.

They shared the bread, and Fox ate slowly. He was thinking more than he was talking, which was unusual for Fox.

After that day, he still liked jokes. He still liked clever plans. But when he invited someone to dinner, he made sure the food was served in a way every guest could enjoy.

And whenever he saw Stork stepping carefully by the stream, he remembered the tall narrow jar, the shallow plate and the lesson he had learned at last.