A bright summer noon, and a whole field of golden rice swayed in the breeze. A long line of ants marched to their nest, each carrying a grain on its back — one step, then the next. The grasshopper played his leaf-fiddle — la-dee-da!
One little ant tugged a heavy grain along, dripping with sweat. "Why work so hard in all this sun?" laughed the grasshopper. "Come up and sing!" "Winter is coming, friend. Best to store some now." "Pfft! Winter's ages away."
Slowly, autumn came. The leaves turned yellow, then red, and fell with a soft rustle. Again the ant called out — "The cold is nearly here — store some food!" But the grasshopper rolled over laughing. "You do the work. I'll do the singing!"
Then came the freezing cold. Overnight, everything turned white with snow — the fields lay bare, not one grain left. The grasshopper shivered and shook. "Oh, if only I had listened to that ant!"
The night grew deep. Out on the snowy field, under a bare little twig, the grasshopper sat all alone — quiet and still. A cold moon hung above. And just then — look, far away — a small light.
Why, that light was the door of the ants' nest! Pushing through the snow, the grasshopper came and stood at the door. "Please — may I come in?" The ant said softly, "Come inside. We don't leave anyone out in cold like this."
Inside the nest it was cosy and warm, rice stacked all around in neat little rows. Between bites the grasshopper said, "When winter's over, I'll work right beside you — I promise." The ant smiled. "Fun in the time for fun, work in the time for work."