For my creative writing class, I had to write a fable with a lesson in it.
One summer evening, a fluffy-tailed rabbit zipped around and around the trunk of a large tree. Her nose twitched in excitement and her paws bounced a million miles an hour. “Mrs. Bird!” cried out the young rabbit, in all of its bunny enthusiasm, “Mrs. Bird!”
The older bird looked down at the hyper creature. “What is it young rabbit?”
“Come play with me!” answered the rabbit, jumping up enthusiastically as she did so.
Twittering in disapproval, the blue feathered bird shook her head. She told the rabbit that winter was coming, and she needed to build her nest. “You would be wise to start yourself a home, young rabbit.”
The rabbit laughed at that. Why work when the sun was shining? The flowers blooming? And the grass was so perfectly soft under her white paws? Her ears twitched in amusement at the bird’s suggestion. “Oh no, winter is far away! The sun is so happy right now, Mrs. Bird, it doesn’t want me to go and work!”
And with that said, the rabbit hopped away – her pink nose sniffing every fragrant wildflower she came across. The days came and went with Mrs. Bird continually reminding the rabbit, “Winter is coming.” But, the rabbit only shook her head and laughed at Mrs. Bird’s concern.
Suddenly, however, winter had arrived. Mrs. Bird was tucked into her nest; the same nest she had been working on during the summer, warm and cozy.
“Mrs. Bird!” cried out the rabbit, shivering as a gust of frigid air swept through the forest. “Mrs. Bird! Oh, do please help me! I can’t seem to get warm!” The rabbit was curled into itself as much as possible, but it was clear that she was freezing.
Mrs. Bird shook her head in dismay at the young rabbit. She had watched as the weeks went on and the rabbit continued to play around – only occasionally working on her burrow. “Remember young rabbit, procrastination is not the avenue to take. Let this be a lesson to you.”
Proverbs 6:6-8, “Go to the ant, you sluggard; consider its ways and be wise! It has no commander, no overseer or ruler, yet it stores its provisions in summer and gathers its food at harvest.”