“It’s freezing cold! Oh, the snow covers everything. Oh, look, how large the white blanket is.” 

Little husky lives alone, with no one to talk to. Little husky is so sad. He doesn’t like winter. Winter days are always long and dark. In winter, he often curls up in his bed, dreaming about spring and its blossom of trees and flowers.

Little husky loves spring. It is a season of miracle. The warm sun thaws the earth, making it tender and warmer. Seeds sprout out of the earth.
Sparrows open their eyes in the hollow tree. Insects and baby leaves emerge. The lake is not coldly silver, but green as jade and blue as ciel. 

He misses playing hide and seek in the reeds with his friends. He wants to chase butterflies and talk to the swallows that return from the south outside.

“Alas, winter is dreadful. How I wish it were warm and green outside!”, says the little husky. 

Little husky falls asleep. Suddenly, he is awakened by a voice. Someone says, 

“Lalalalalala, wake up! Come and play with me!”

Little husky opens his eyes, in front of him standing a white snowshoe hare. 

Husky asks, “Hi, but why are you so happy, little bunny?”

“Hahahahaha, I love winter!” answers the snowshoe hare. 

“Oh, why?” asks the confused husky. 

“I love winter! Food is abundant. If you look carefully, you can see the small, green twigs under the snow! Oh, you know what, the white snow protects me from hungry foxes. They cannot spot me against the white snow. I, am part of the world.”

“Cool, that’s so great. You look, and smell like a white marshmallow,” Little husky remarks.

“That’s a very wise comment.” Little bunny blinks its eyes.  

Little bunny hops at the surface of the heavy snow. 

“Come, little husky! Let us go look at the snow right now.”

Little husky shakes its head, “No, I am fed up with this dull scenery. All are white, white as the clouds fall down in a mass.”

“What do you like?” asks the unicorn tilting its head.

“Spring, I like spring, and the blossom flowers, red, yellow, purple…any colours but the dull white. Swallows and larks at daytime, nightingale at night. No ice on the lake, but the lovely water lilies. Squirrels come out, deer run, hares jog. Wow, so wonderful.” Immerses the husky it its daydream.

“Well, I come from the world the same as you describe, but I dislike it. Too noisy, too many naughty animals gabbing all the time. Even the bees would not let me take a quiet sleep. I want to stay somewhere alone, with snowy scenery—I haven’t seen the snow, the snowflakes, and the heath covered completely by snow, just like a huge white fluffy blanket!” says the unicorn in great excitement, “the spring is too noisy, then I left there and wandered in the forest. I spotted a small cave, I came in, and I am here now! I do love the place you are living in.”

“Well, I rather live your life. So, pretty unicorn, could you please tell me where is the cave? I long for the spring awfully.” asks the husky earnestly.

The unicorn shows it the direction, and the husky pops over immediately.

Two weeks later, they happen to meet each other at the entrance of the cave.

“Are you leaving now?” asks the husky, in a depressed mood.

“Yes, and you?” answered the unicorn, in the same tone.

“Eh, yes. Spring is beautiful…but after the initial excitement, I find it too hot, and nowhere for me to play with snow.” the husky lowers its head.

“And I find here too cold, and too quiet. I am almost blinded by the overwhelming white scene. I think I am much used to something more colourful. ” the unicorn sighs, “maybe what breeds us is the best for us.”

“Cannot agree more.” the husky nods, “Now I am going to roll on the snow.”

“And I, can’t wait to rest beside the brook where fish swim happily and tortoise rests beside the water lilies.” the unicorn waves its hand, “bye, husky.”

“Bye, unicorn.”

on the ears of wheat about his seat, 
In the shades of tall stalks touching the sky. 

As he gazed he bumped his cheek,

let out a squeak in surprise. 

There in front of him was a sorry-looking locust. "I've flown for miles to find my home, I'm tired and my wings will not beat, I fear that I will surely die, Dormouse, have you anything to eat?"

The Dormouse scurried hither and thither and carried tidbits to the sorry locust, the locust munched and munched and munched. 

"Dormouse, this isn't nearly enough, If I'm to fly again I must eat, and to fly again my wings must beat!"

The Dormouse chewed and whittled the stalks till they fell to the ground. He gathered the wheat as best he could. 

And the locust munched till it was gone, "Dormouse what is taking so long?  If I am to fly, I must eat!"

The Dormouse scurried till he could no more, the locust was finally satisfied.  "Dormouse how can I ever repay you?" he cried.

"I live in the shade of the stalks in this field,  I have never seen the land from the sky,  alas, I have no wings and so I cannot fly" said the Dormouse. "I am but one but part of many,  I cannot carry you alone, 

but I will return with friends and together we will fly" replied the locust. With that he lept into the sky and was gone. The Dormouse sat and waited. What if once sated, he never returned? 

Soon a loud buzzing welled over the land,  the sun and sky turned black. The Dormouse was lifted into the air, Locust upon locust swarmed over the field carrying him on their backs, he cried in terror as the ground below fell away and turned from green to grey, "put me down" he yelled, he landed in the crop. But the locusts had left taking all the wheat

And so the Dormouse had nothing left to eat, alone in the farmer's lot.

Locust will be Locust and they will do what needs to be done to survive in a challenging world.

One duckling Lily said: ‘They are so beautiful, I want to be a ballerina like them when I grow up!’

Her friend Cindy: ’Me too! Let’s dance together!’

The little ducklings trained hard for three days, they tried their best to mime the action of the swans. One day, a swan came and laughed at them: ‘You are so ugly, you also do not have long necks! You will never be ballerinas like us’ Lily was sad and she complained to Cindy: ‘Yes, the swan is right, we are ducklings we cannot be beautiful ballerinas’. Cindy consoled her: ‘No one can become a ballerina only in three days. Let's try harder!’

A week past, there was little progress. The mother of ducklings came and said to them: ‘You cannot fly, you will never be swans. Give up, my poor little kids! ’ Lily was so upset and said: ‘Yes, that is true, we are not swans’. Cindy insisted: ’Even we cannot fly, we can be beautiful ballerinas on the lake, let's try for a few more days. ’

One month later. Lily could never stand the tough training and talked to Cindy: ‘It is not necessary for us to be ballerinas, actually, they are not that beautiful’. Cindy said: ‘Do not forget it is our dream since childhood, it will never come true if we give up! Those who are very easy to give up will never enjoy the pleasure of success!’ Lily: ‘Ok, do whatever you want, I quit!’ and then she left. 

Three months later, there was recruitment in the Royal Ballet, all animals who were good at ballet can come. Cindy was so excited and she told Lily this news. Lily was also very happy, however, when she started to dance in the Ballet career fair, she forgot all the movements. Finally, Cindy passed the competition and became the first duckling ballerina.

Spring arrived with birds twittering on the twig up the tree. In a house where the family lived, a spider was making his web. Round and round he weaved his web up the ceiling. Oops! He slipped and fell off the wall. But the spider didn’t give up. He climbed up along his cobweb when a rat came up, mouth full with buttered toast. 

“Oh, silly you,” the rat mumbled, “why bother to make a stupid web when you can get food without lifting a finger? Those fools leave their food everywhere!” The spider heard the rat but didn’t answer. To him, there was nothing more important than making the web.

 

Gradually, summer came. The spider finally finished the web. The rat patted his belly and commented the web with an acid look on his face: “Well, well, well. Even though you finished that useless web, the only way to feed yourself is to wait. Poor spider! You had do your damnedest to make a living, but I had three meals a day with ease like all human beings!” The spider was busy at enjoying the preys and mending his web, so the rat didn’t receive a sideways glance. 

 

Meanwhile, the family was discussing about where would be a best place for the summer holiday. Finally, they decided to go to the beach to enjoy the sunshine and the sea during the whole holiday. As food went easily bad in hot weather, the family didn’t remain any food in the house. “Oh, boring human beings,” the rat said, “what fun can they have from the outside world? Eating should be the most important aim of life! Well, anyway they will be back in a couple of hours or days as always.”

 

However, several weeks past the family still did not come back home. The rat stayed in his hole and felt more and more hungry. “When will they back with food? I don’t want to lose my weight any more!” the rat muttered bitterly, “look at the spider, I’m not jealous of that spider, no, but even he could have food every day!” 

 

‘This is the hardest summer I have ever underwent, how I miss the ice cream left over by children.’ The rat murmured, touching his increasingly thin belly.

 

He felt quite envious about spider’s life now. Every day he saw spider enjoyed abundant meal, little flies, mosquitoes, flies… no one could escape the web made by spider.

 

‘You might need to find the food by yourself.” the spider said.

 

‘No, never. It's scorching hot outside. I won’t let myself burned in roasting. Staying in the hole would be a wiser decision.’ the rat said.

 

Day by day, the spider continued to weave the web, sometimes the heavy rain and wind broke the net, he mended it quickly. On the contrary, the rat got weaker and weaker, and gradually even had no strength to speak.

 

‘Oops.. a dead rat here, throw it out, quick!’ the woman screamed!

 

‘We need to clean the house, it’s so dirty, there are spider webs everywhere…” said the man.  

 

One of his favourite things about the rose garden was the social life which accompanied it. You could find all manner of life there- as his mother  would say. Bees, flies, ants and even slugs, who were actually quite friendly –it was just they preferred damp, dark spaces to being out in the open. He was a sociable little caterpillar – he would often find the best rose and wait until others joined him. They chatted, buzzed, munched and slow shuffled for most of the day and evening too.

 

One day however, it was a different day- the rays of the sun shone directly on the plants. It made them seem more colourful than ever- like a carnival of pink, purple and red. In spite of the fact it seemed so hot that rays of the sun were toasting the soft skin of his back, he liked the way everything seemed to glow. He was alone, but waiting for the others. He did not much like the notion of being by himself. He hoped the bees would be along soon. I should probably drink some water he thought. Nah. He answered himself. Water is for wimps and he ate away. 

 

Suddenly he felt a lovely cooling breeze blow through the soft hairs on top of his head.

 Flicker. Flicker. Flap. 

Looking up, he saw the most astounding sight. A red, orange and black vision- almost static in the air -gently flapping in the ether above. There seemed to be two of them. Nah- he blinked his eyes. He remembered that water he had forgotten to drink. Only one. They were wings. There, in the centre of the circus of flaming colours, was a long bodied butterfly slinking her merry way across the sky.

 

Well hello there, he said, immediately regretting it. She continued to flap, staring away. She seemed more interested in everything but him.

“Hi”

Once you got over the startling and stunning appearance of this butterfly, she was actually very nice. Wait ‘til the others find out about this, he thought. Although he believed a butterfly would never bother with him (they were kind of aloof he had been told)- they struck up a great rapport just then. They discussed the nicest flowers they had ever tasted. (Tulips for her and sunflowers for him.)

 

After a period of the day had passed, he wondered where the others were.

Oh don’t worry about them the butterfly said- sometimes it’s better -important to be alone. Now the notion of being alone alarmed him- he was the loudest caterpillar at the party most days.

What do you mean? He asked, looking more closely at one beautiful design bang smack in the centre of her wing.

“Oh you know- we are different” she answered immediately. With us butterflies we need to spend time alone.

 

The little corner of the leaf he was chewing suddenly lodged in the caterpillar’s throat. He did not know which part he objected to more. Alone? He cried in desperation and after a pause he began to think about the rest of what she had said.

 

 There was no way he could ever be a butterfly. He knew he had a certain neon green charm- he snuck a glance at himself in the odd puddle now and then. But to consider himself in someway related to the butterfly would require a lot more imagination than he was capable of at this point. Beside- cocoons genuinely sounded like zero craic. He had heard about others hanging about on their lonesome waiting for beauty and wings to sprout. He pitied them more than he pitied himself. He bid goodbye to the butterfly and began to bellyshuffle away.

 

Wait, she said. You must cocoon. It’s the safest place to be-while you develop into the best version of yourself. Do you really want to expose yourself to dangers in large crowds - that rosebed gets dicey some hours of the day? And at times when anything could happen in the outside world? Be patient and take time to grow- and- for heaven’s sake (she cast an eye at his paunchy body) being away from the flowers for a couple of months won’t do you the slightest bit of harm!

 

The caterpillar reluctantly agreed and set about becoming a little cocoon. Oh yes it was lonely at times and as the chrysalis frosted over, he began to lose sight of the wonders outside. He did some thinking in the cocoon (he never did like being alone with his thoughts). I miss the rosebed, he sniffed to himself- but most of all he missed his beloved mam.

 

He took to sleeping long hours in the cocoon. It was warm and dry, if a little dull. He continued at this until his shelter began to feel tight. I knew I shouldn’t have eaten so many seeds he thought to himself with a mixture of horror and regret. He began to close his eyes when crack he felt a jolt. He was falling through the bottom of the grey material around him.

 

Agh he thought. I’m too young to die. So agitated he was he began to flap. What in the name of- oh wow I’m flying! He delightedly hovered above the flowers below. The others were congregating in a circle and began to wave. He heard a catcall as loud as the day. Who’s that gorgeous guy? He looked over his shoulder. And there she was- the lovely butterfly from before. I’m flying, I’m lighter, I’m- yeah- you’re a butterfly now! She gave him a wink and continued on her way.

 

Years later he was just so glad he isolated. Asked if he would ever consider it again, now, that would definitely be a no. But that safe little shelter away from the wilds of winter- the loneliness was worth it in the end.

 

“Hey, sisters,” says the lark lively, "this year's Charm Contest is around the corner! Who would like to take..."

"Then I must have my place," the cardinal immediately interrupts. Dressed up beautifully with bright red feathers, she stands confidently in the center of birds. 

Of course, she would - The cardinal has never missed any bird charm contest, nor has she missed any awards. 

 

The Charm Contest is held every spring. It is firstly proposed by the eldest sparrow in the forest many years ago. On her long trip from north to south, she happened to see a large banner "Miss World Charm Contest" down on the ground. She told this to her bird friends, and anyone believed it must be exciting to hold the same one in the world of birds.

In the next spring, birds in the forest marveled at the charm that candidate birds have shown on the stage. The Blue Jay shows her bright blue feathers and contrasting light grey chest. The golden pheasant shows her golden crest and feathers in a rainbow of colors. The Hoopoe with black and white striped feathers wins some applause. The regular winner throughout rounds of competition, the cardinal, with brightly colored red feathers and a slim body. 

 

As the competition held year and year on, the world of birds has a kind of tacit idea: Charm means beauty, and beautiful is sexy. 

 

"Who wants to join me?" the cardinal turns around glancing at other birds. Most birds, with grey feathers, unattractive faces, and short tails, fall into an embarrassing silence.

“Do you, Miss Crow?” the cardinal is unsatisfied with no reply, then points at the black crow in the distance, who is reading with keen pleasure an encyclopedia she "took away" from the nearby farm. 

Some birds around burst out mocking laughter - How could a crow win the charm contest? - This is surely a joke. 

"Me?" The crow raised her head and closes the book, hearing someone call her name. She thinks for a while, and nods, "well, why not? Come on and see then. "

 

Two weeks later, the scene of Charm Contest is crowded with all kinds of birds. Even some birds who are not quite interested in this "Appearance" Contest come, because they all want to see if the crow survive among those shining beauties.  

At first, the contest seems all the same as in the past: the colorful feathers, beautiful faces, long tails, slim bodies, and so on. Some audiences turn asleep and some others look down on their phones. 

"Next, let us welcome No.15 candidate, the crow! This is her first time to come to our contest! Applause!" Lark, the host announces in a high mood. 

Every bird's head up. This is the most expected part of the contest.

The crow walks to the stage without any dress up. She just wears a pair of thick glasses, still holding the encyclopedia in her hand.

"For me, wisdom is the charm. I admire all birds with knowledge... As I read more and more books, I realize the wonders of this lovely world. I learn why the sun rises in the east and sets in the west, and why the four seasons reincarnate. I understand why the sea is salty and many other scientific knowledges. I would like to do my best to tell you what you don’t know..." she said.

"A crow is just a crow. What's the use of learning knowledge? Your black feathers can never be changed..." The cardinal laughs at her contemptuously.

Suddenly, a fire starts somehow in the forest. 
In a short time, the black smoke bursts into the sky, and the fire is about to spread. The birds are frightened and fly around with no directions. Those beautiful birds, covering their eyes with their gorgeous wings, have no ideas to the fire. "Our home is going to be burned down," some birds cry and say, but they have no choice but to let the fire spread. 

At this moment, the crow thinks for a while, pushes her glasses, and says, "Don’t be panic, the water can put out fire. We can fly to the river to the west, bring some water with our wings, and sprinkle water on the fire. Listen to me, we can extinguish the fire.” Then, the crow takes the lead to fly to the river, wets its wings, and sprinkles water on the fire. 
The other birds gradually calm down when they see the crow flying to the nearby river again and again, and also covers their wings with water like the crow. With more and more water, the last flame is finally extinguished. All birds breathe a sigh of relief and gratefully look at the crow. 
"Miss Crow, you are the most charming bird today." The cardinal praises the crow sincerely.

Undoubtedly, it is well-deserved that the crow becomes the first place in this year's Charm Contest. Since then, the definition of sexy has added a new meaning—brainy.