The Crow and the Pitcher
scroll gently to begin ↓
A little crow was flying under a hot, blazing sun. She was so, so thirsty.
Down below, she spotted something on the ground: a tall clay pitcher. She swooped down to look.
She peered inside. There was cool, shimmery water at the bottom. But it was so far down.
She tilted the pitcher with her feet. She poked her beak in as far as it would go. The water was still out of reach.
The crow sat down on the dusty ground. She stared at the pebbles all around her. Then her golden eyes lit up.
She picked up a round pebble and dropped it in. Plop. In went a pebble.
The water rose, so she picked up another pebble. Plop. In went a pebble.
Again and again she worked, one pebble at a time. Plop. In went a pebble.
At last, the water sparkled right at the very top. She had filled the pitcher with pebbles!
She dipped her beak in and took a long, cool drink. Ahhh.
The crow sat still and felt the cool water inside her. The evening was soft and quiet. She had been stuck, but she found a way. A clever idea got her through.