The Little Otter

Whilst walking through thick woodland, a woman heard soft whimpering. She cast her eyes from place to place but could not locate the source of such sorrowful sounds – that was, until she glanced downward and saw an otter knelt upon the ground, face hidden beneath its paws.

‘Little otter,’ she asked, ‘why do you cry?’

Yet the otter did not respond, so the woman repeated her question: ‘Little otter, why do you cry?’

This time the otter raised its head and the woman saw that tears glistened upon its cheeks. ‘Little otter,’ she repeated a third time, ‘why do you cry?’

‘I cry because the leaves fall from the trees. Oh, what sorrow that the leaves should shrivel and die!’

‘But little otter,’ spoke the woman kindly, ‘it is only natural that the leaves should fall from the trees. If these leaves did not die, next year’s leaves could never live. Indeed, if leaves of past years had not fallen in their turn, this year’s crop could never have flourished.’

The otter considered this for a moment, then replied: ‘I shall remember these leaves regardless, and weep for their memory.’

‘Yes, little otter, it is also natural that we should feel sorrow for that which perishes. But we must not let that sorrow consume us, else we could never feel joy at the birth of new leaves.’

The otter wiped its eyes and blinked at the sunlight as if noticing its warm rays for the first time. ‘Thank you, stranger – my sorrow is much lightened by your kind words.’

‘Go forth and be happy, little otter. Think no more of the leaves falling from the trees, except to be glad that one day new leaves shall grow in their place.’