The Beetle and the Deer's Promise

A young deer liked to make promises while he ran. He promised the squirrel a basket of acorns, the fox a fine feather and the beetle a ride to the far meadow. Running made every journey seem easy.

“Tomorrow,” he told the beetle. “At sunrise.”

The beetle waited beside a stone. The deer passed at noon, racing a hare, and did not notice him.

The next day the deer apologized. “Tomorrow without fail.”

Again the beetle waited. Again the deer forgot. This time he had followed the scent of new grass beyond the stream.

On the third day the beetle said, “I will find my own way.”

“But it is far,” said the deer. “Your legs are so short.”

“They have not promised to be longer.”

The beetle set out. By evening he reached the stream. A branch lay across it, too narrow for the deer but wide enough for six small feet. Beneath the branch, a fish was trapped in a shallow pool.

The beetle could not push the fish into deep water. He could, however, climb a reed and call to the heron. The heron lifted the fish and, because she had already eaten, dropped it safely into the current.

In return, she carried the beetle across the marsh.

The following morning the deer found him in the far meadow.

“You see,” said the deer, “I would have brought you here much faster.”

“Perhaps,” said the beetle.

The deer asked whether he was angry.

“I was waiting,” said the beetle. “That is not the same thing.”

They stood together beside a patch of clover. The deer began to promise that he would never forget again, but stopped before the words left his mouth.

“What do you need now?” he asked instead.

The beetle wanted a particular seed that grew beyond a bramble hedge. The deer could not reach it with his hooves, but he could bend a branch. The beetle climbed along it, took the seed and returned.

It was not a grand journey. Nobody raced, cheered or spoke of tomorrow. The deer simply held the branch until the beetle was safely down.

After that, he made fewer promises. When he did make one, he stood still long enough to remember it.

The beetle continued travelling on his own short legs, accepting help when it was offered and measuring generosity by what arrived, rather than what was announced.