This was a short folk tale I wrote in my English class last week. Basically, the point of the exercise was we got fifteen minutes to created a folk tale that had a moral and starred an animal as the main character. There are probably some grammatical errors since it was a rushed thing, but here it is ^.^
Belle's Stars
Once, on a farm all the way in Wyoming, there was beautiful Arabian racehorse. Her coat was the glossiest of all the browns, and her mane was always braided with bright red ribbons. As she got older, the owner retired her, letting her glory days be remembered. Now that she was living on her farm again, the horse wanted to have her own family, such as the ones the cows, and sheep, and dogs had.
She was patient, and she wished upon every star every night. It was several years before her wish was finally granted. At this point, her sleek body had grown plump, her coat was speckled with gray, and her mane too dry to braid. But the little foal that was her daughter had gained what this horse had lost. Named Belle, for beauty, the newborn foal had the same glossy coat, and thick mane that had once been her mother’s most admirable features. All the animals came by to fawn over her, and tell her stories.
The story that she liked the most was told to her by the oldest dog on the farm, Bruno. Bruno had been a puppy when Belle’s mother was the fastest racehorse, and he described long races and glorious wins for the foal. As soon as old Bruno left, Belle immediately informed her mother that she was going to become a racehorse, too.
“Alright, little one, but it’s a long way to the finish line,” she said to her daughter. The next day, Belle woke up and began badgering her mother. She said over and over again, “Come on it’s time to race! It’s time to race!” The older horse stood and shook her mane.
Sighing, Belle’s mother nudged the little foal up to her knobby knees, and finally to stand, wobbling, on her hooves. Naturally, Belle’s legs gave out from under her, and she stared at the floor at the barn before looking at her mother sadly.
“I’ll never be a racehorse if I can’t stand,” she said in a soft, hopeless voice. Her mother gave her a comforting smile. “Well, be patient. If you can’t do something, it will only take perseverance before you can.” Sitting back down beside her daughter, she told Bell the story of her wishes.
“On every star?” the little one asked in wonder. “On every star,” her mother answered. For two weeks, Belle wished on every star before she could stand and walk. For another two weeks she wished so that she could run. For two months she wished to be faster than the other racehorse on the farm.
And finally, her first race day came. She was a new name and face to the racing world, and nobody expected her to be in the first round of winners. But she walked into the winner’s circle with a second metal on her bridle.
“Nice job,” the first place horse said. “What sort of training did you have?”
Smiling, Belle said, “Wishing on every star in the night sky takes more patience than waiting for the sun to rise.”
Moral: Be Patient.
