I delight to introduce a new guest blogger—Peter LaByer of Cantonment, Florida. He and his mom—our daughter Elisabeth—visited Betty and me during the Thanksgiving holidays.1 He shared the following essay with me, and I was impressed enough to ask his permission to publish it, and I’m glad he consented.
You may not be surprised that I think Peter is a remarkable young man. He is thirteen years old and is in the Challenge A level of the Classical Conversations curriculum. Elisabeth told me Peter wrote this paper, not as an assignment but simply because he loves fables.
The work below belongs entirely to Peter; no one has edited it. I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. Please let me know what you think. I will forward your comments to him.
— Mike Rogers
One fine spring day, a Bear was strolling through the forest. Enjoying the fresh breeze in his fur, suddenly the smell of fresh bird eggs wafted to his nose. The Bear became very hungry, and he looked greedily around to find the source of this appetizing aroma. At last he saw a vulture’s nest in the branches of an oak tree. It was filled to the brim with eggs. His mouth watered with anticipation of popping five or six into his mouth and feeling the gooey, refreshing goodness trickle down his throat. But just how would he get them down?
In another part of the forest, a hungry Beaver was strolling through the forest, looking for a suitable meal. As he walked, he heard a strange ripping sound repeat itself over and over. This sound was often followed by a thundering CRASH, and then a deep sigh. The Beaver’s curiosity was aroused. Walking toward the strange sounds, he spotted a vulture’s nest filled with large, bulging eggs in the branches of an oak tree. The Beaver’s eyes popped. His stomach growled loudly. Now this was a suitable meal.
Suddenly there was another thundering CRASH, and the tree shook. The Beaver looked away from the nest just in time to see a large Bear stumble back away from the tree and let out a deep sigh. Puzzled, the Beaver asked, “Excuse me. Bear, I’m sorry to interrupt your important business, but what exactly are you doing?” The Bear looked at him, then said, “Not that it’s any of your business, Beaver, but I am trying to get down those eggs up there for my breakfast.” The Beaver looked puzzled. “Why are you looking at me like that?” asked the Bear. “Did you think the vultures were going to give me their eggs?” “No,” replied the Beaver. “I’ll just be on my way.”
The Bear watched him go with a frown. Then he turned and looked up at the vulture’s nest. The eggs looked even more delicious than before. He ran at the tree and shook it with all his might. Its branches bent and swayed, but the nest, well built, did not budge. The Bear backed away a few steps, studied the tree, and ran at it with as much power as he could muster. CRASH! The sound echoed through the forest as the Bear, quite in pain, staggered back from the tree. He let out a huge sigh of discouragement.
As the Bear gazed up yet again into the branches of the oak tree, he heard a voice behind him say, “Excuse me. Bear, may I be of assistance?” The Bear slowly turned around to see who had spoken. “Oh, it’s you again,” he muttered. “Well, what do you want this time?” The Beaver, who had been watching the Bear’s curious actions from some bushes nearby, said, “I can help you get those eggs down, but only will if you promise to share some with me. The Bear replied, “How can such a small animal like you possibly get those eggs down from that tree? The bark is much too smooth to climb up.” “I can use my long, sharp teeth to cut through the trunk of the tree,” the Beaver replied. The Bear laughed. “How silly! As soon as you cut through, the tree would fall on top of you! No, I will keep on doing what I am doing right now, and keep all the eggs for myself.” The Bear walked back up to the tree and began shaking it vigorously. “No, Bear!” the Beaver cried. “I will cut only halfway through the tree, then you will be able to push it over easily!” The grumpy Bear stopped shaking the tree and turned to look at the Beaver with squinted eyes. “Well, what are you waiting for?” he asked. “I’ll give you some eggs. Do what you need to do.”
The Beaver immediately plodded over to the tree and speedily cut a wedge-shaped gap halfway through the trunk. Then he looked at the Bear and said, “Do what you need to do.” The Bear walked up to the tree. Bracing himself, he gave the tree a hefty shove. The tree creaked as it slowly broke away from its roots. It hit the ground with a crunching of branches and a snapping of twigs. The vulture’s eggs fell out on the ground unharmed, cushioned by the soft leaves on the forest floor. The Bear and the Beaver enjoyed a delicious feast.
Moral: “Two are better than one … for if they fall the one will lift up his fellow, but woe to him who is alone when he falleth, for he hath not another to help him up” (Ecclesiastes 4:9–10).
