The Cloud Town

High, high up in the sky, a single rain cloud was rolling by. Many think of the cloud as merely another object, but it is in fact a home for the rain-drops. Now, in this particular watery town, there lived a sparkling droplet that was not yet half grown. Now, life for rain drops is not so very different then ours, for when they grow up they leave to find the object of their desire, and for rain drops, it is a beautiful place to spend their lives.

"Mamma, I wish to go to the most beautiful place in all the world, for I think that I would serve best there." he whimpered softly.

"My son, many rain drops have sought the most beautiful place in the world, but as far as I know, none have found it. However, when you are full grown, look down upon the earth, and seek that which is most beautiful to you." She replied, and dropped off into the sky. The little dropling watched her as she drifted down, and wondered why had she chosen such a terrible dry spot? Sighing, he looked around to find some new-comers had arrived.

"Hello there, sonny, listen to the stories these droplets tell." a local standbyer said. The first droplet spoke:

"I figured I would seek the most lucious and green spot on earth. I found it, and it had seemed so pretty from the skies. But when I arrived, I found that they had no need of me, and wanted to throw me far away. I was angry, but I looked at the ground. It had began to mold from too many like me, and soon the lovely plants would die."
The second droplet then spoke:

"I always loved the sand, and so I headed for the desert. But, when I arrived, I discovered that no rain had been there in many, many months. It was so dry, I felt myself returning here almost immediatly. It had been because I was alone. If there had been many droplets every day, then the cactus would have grown, and the green grass."

The little droplet had now grown to full size, and was ready to leave the town of cloud.
"Farewell, my friends, I am off to become the most beautiful spot in all the world!" he cried, and the other droplings whispered among themselves that he had left in search of a dried up spot in Ireland, and together with his local budies would restore the island to her former glory, by their self-sacrifice.

Jesse's Grandmother

Jesse sat by the fire, warming her small toes. It was a beautiful fire, not too big or too small. Jesse's family had owned this house for generations, and it was no wonder why. The engraved beams told stories of nymphs and elves, while the masonry was old enough to tell stories of the revolution. Jesse's Grandmother sat near her in the old rocking chair that her father had built, and seemed to be asleep.
"Grandma, tell me a story!" Jesse blurted out, hoping that Grandma would, for Grandma could tell the best stories.
"A story? What about?" Grandma replied.
"The first thing that pops into your head!" This was the most common sentece that Jesse uttered, and Grandma was expecting it.
"What do you hear, Jesse?"
"I hear the Coyotes howling. The Crickets chirping. The Wind screaming. I hear some Animal that is dying." Jesse said slowly, as she disciphered the noises of the night. As she said the last instance, she became sad, and said:
"Grandma, tell me a story about the animal that is dying."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, for I want to know what happened to it."
"You are a brave child.
Once upon a time, in the woods not far from here, lived a bear. He was a grumpy old bear, and the coyotes feared his strength. The coyotes figured they had it rough, dealing with the temperments of an old bear. But they didn't think of the raccoons. These animals didn't fear broken ribs, they feared the coyote's stomach. The raccoons thought they had it the roughest, considering they didn't love the coyote's stomach. But, the raccoons never thought of the poor farmer, the farmer who lived in fear that he would starve because the raccoons ate all of his harvest. The farmer thought he had it the roughest, because he rationed that nature was against him. But the farmer never thought of the grumpy old bear, who always hid from the farmer's gun."
"But that goes in a circle!" Jesse deducted.
"That is how it is. Each person in this world believes that his lot is the toughest, never thinking of how someone else near him are affected by his actions. With the animals, that is nature, but for us, we have a choice. We can either work together hazardously, hurting eachother because our thoughts are absorbed by self pity, or we can work together in a harmonious way, looking out for oneanother's backs."
"Do you need a shawl, Grandmother?" Jesse asked politely.
"Yes indeed, I would love that. In return, there are some mints on the upper shelf...."