Once, in a tiny village called Cesa, there lived a small ant named Evırı. Everyone knew her. She wasn’t the biggest or the fastest, but she worked harder than anyone else. Morning till evening, she carried grains of corn, one at a time, back to her ant hill. Rainy days would come soon, and Evırı didn’t want to go hungry.
In that same village, a lizard named Jabari lazed around. Big fellow, strong legs, shiny green skin. He could hunt if he wanted to, but he didn’t. Too much work. He preferred finding someone else’s food and taking it.
One day, Jabari spotted Evırı’s corn pile. His eyes lit up. “Why bother chasing crickets or beetles when I can have this?” he muttered. That morning, instead of hunting, he crawled towards Evırı’s ant hill. He dug a small tunnel under the soft earth until he could see the yellow corn inside.
“Ah, perfect,” he whispered, taking a bite. “Sweet, crunchy… much better than working for it.”
Evırı returned just then, carrying another grain. She froze. “Thief!” she shouted, her voice sharper than a thorn. Jabari jumped, dropping a few kernels. “I wasn’t—” he started, but Evırı wasn’t listening.
She called for help. Within seconds, the ground around the hill came alive — hundreds of ants, rushing out like an army. They swarmed over Jabari’s legs and tail, biting hard.
“Yow! Stop! Ouch!” Jabari cried, trying to shake them off. In his panic, he stumbled over a rock and fell straight into a muddy puddle. The villagers who saw him burst out laughing. His shiny green skin was now brown, dripping mud. Even other lizards smirked.
Jabari, shivering and embarrassed, lowered his head. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly.
Evırı stepped forward. “I forgive you. But listen well — stealing will always get you into trouble. Work for your food, and you’ll never feel this shame again.”
From that day, Jabari stopped raiding other animals’ stores. He hunted for himself. It was harder than stealing, but he slept better at night. And whenever he passed Evırı’s hill, he remembered the muddy puddle and the lesson that came with it:
Hard work fills the stomach; greed only fills it with regret.
