The Tortoise Bus

Once upon a time, deep in a lush, green forest, there lived a little bird named Kip.

Kip was a golden canary with a very impatient personality. He did absolutely everything in a rush. He ate his seeds fast, he talked fast, and he even blinked his eyes faster than anyone else. His favorite words were always, "Hurry up! Hurry up!"

Every morning, as soon as the sun peeked over the horizon, Kip would zoom into the sky. He flew so fast that he looked like a streak of golden lightning zipping through the trees.

One day, a strong wind began to blow through the forest. Kip was flying in such a hurry that he didn't watch where he was going. Suddenly—THUMP!—he crashed right into a big oak tree.

"Ouch! That hurts!" Kip cried out. His wing throbbed with pain, and he couldn't flap it anymore. He slid down the rough bark of the tree and tumbled onto the soft, grassy ground.

Kip tried to spread his wings, but one was hurt too badly. He couldn't lift off.

Big tears rolled down his beak. "Boo-hoo," he sobbed. "I can’t fly. Now I can’t go anywhere."

Just then, an old tortoise walked by. His name was Grandpa Barnaby.

Grandpa Barnaby lifted his head and spoke in a slow, deep, rumbly voice. "Hello, little one. Why are you crying?"

Kip wiped his tears and sniffled. "Grandpa Barnaby, I hurt my wing. I can't fly anymore."

Grandpa Barnaby smiled kindly. "Don't worry. You might not be able to fly right now, but you can ride on my 'Tortoise Bus.' I walk slowly, but I walk very steadily."

Kip thought about it for a second, then carefully climbed onto Grandpa Barnaby’s shell. It was wide and warm, and it felt surprisingly cozy.

And so, the Tortoise Bus began to move.

One step... two steps... three steps... four steps...

Grandpa Barnaby walked really, really slowly.

At first, Kip got very antsy. "Grandpa Barnaby," he chirped, "can’t we go just a little bit faster?"

"We must walk slowly," Barnaby said gently, "so we can see things clearly."

Kip quieted down and looked over the side of the shell. Suddenly, his eyes went wide with surprise. Because he had always flown so fast, Kip had never noticed how many beautiful things were right there on the ground.

He saw a purple morning glory flower with a dewdrop hanging from it, sparkling like a diamond.

He saw a tiny red ant carrying a crumb of a cookie, marching and chanting a rhythmic song: "Heave-ho! Heave-ho!"

He even smelled the rich, sweet scent of the soil—a smell he never noticed when he was high up in the sky.

"Wow!" Kip cheered. "I never knew that walking slowly could show me so many different things!"

Grandpa Barnaby carried Kip across the meadow and past the winding creek. The sun felt warm on their backs. Barnaby’s steady steps felt like a gentle rocking cradle, and Kip felt safe and comfortable.

Slowly, his eyelids grew heavy... heavier... and he fell fast asleep on Grandpa Barnaby’s back, dreaming a sweet dream.

A few days later, Kip’s wing was all better. He could zoom into the sky again. But Kip didn't always fly fast anymore.

Sometimes, he would fly very slowly. And sometimes, he would land on Grandpa Barnaby’s shell just to take a long, quiet walk together.

Kip had learned a secret: flying high lets you see far away, but only by moving slowly can you see the beauty right beside you.