Chapter 12: Hazel the Humble Horse
Once upon a time, in the sunlit meadows of Cloverland, there lived a spirited young horse named Hazel. Hazel was no ordinary horse—she could gallop faster than the river’s current, leap higher than the tallest bushes, and her shiny brown coat sparkled in the sunlight. She loved being the best and made sure everyone knew it.
Every spring, Cloverland hosted the Great Meadow Games, a festival where all the animals came together to compete and have fun. This year, Hazel was determined to win every event. And she did! She outran the deer, jumped higher than the kangaroos, and even carried the heaviest sacks faster than the oxen.
After her grand victory, Hazel pranced through the meadow, her head held high. “Did you see how fast I was?” she neighed to the rabbits. “Nobody here can jump like me!” she boasted to the squirrels. “I’m the best in all of Cloverland!” she declared to anyone who would listen.
At first, her friends clapped and cheered, impressed by her talent. But as the days went by, Hazel’s constant bragging made them uneasy. The rabbits twitched their noses and hopped away. The squirrels busied themselves with collecting acorns. Even her best friend, Max the mole, stayed in his burrow longer than usual.
One afternoon, Hazel trotted to the pond, hoping to show off her reflection in the water. But instead of feeling proud, she felt lonely. The meadow was quiet, and no one came to play.
“Why doesn’t anyone want to talk to me?” Hazel wondered aloud.
From the branches of an old oak tree, Willow the wise owl watched silently. She flew down and perched beside Hazel.
“Hello, Hazel,” Willow said kindly. “You seem troubled. What’s wrong?”
“No one wants to play with me anymore,” Hazel sighed. “But I don’t understand. I’m the fastest and the best. Shouldn’t they want to be around me?”
Willow tilted her head. “Hazel, have you ever heard of the ‘Salt and Soup Rule?’”
Hazel shook her mane. “What’s that?”
“Salt makes soup taste better,” Willow explained, “but too much salt can ruin the whole pot. Sharing your achievements is like adding salt—it’s good in small amounts. But if you talk only about yourself, it can feel overwhelming, like too much salt in soup.”
Hazel’s ears drooped. “I didn’t mean to ruin the soup,” she whispered. “What can I do to fix it?”
“Try listening and celebrating others,” Willow suggested. “Instead of talking about how great you are, ask about their stories. Show them you care.”
That evening, Hazel decided to give it a try. She visited Max’s burrow and peeked inside. “Hi, Max,” she said softly. “I missed you. How’s your digging project going?”
Max looked up, surprised. “You really want to know?”
“Of course!” Hazel said. “You’re the best digger in Cloverland! Maybe you could teach me a thing or two.”
Max smiled and crawled out of his burrow. “Well, let me show you!” he said.
The next day, Hazel galloped to the rabbits. “Your hopping is amazing,” she said. “Can you teach me how to jump like that?”
The rabbits giggled and showed Hazel their secret hopping techniques. Soon, the meadow was alive with laughter and joy.
Over time, Hazel learned to celebrate her friends’ talents along with her own. She discovered that cheering for others felt just as wonderful as winning—and sometimes even better.
When the next Great Meadow Games arrived, Hazel won a few events, but she also clapped the loudest when others triumphed. The animals of Cloverland cheered for Hazel, not because she was the fastest, but because she was their kind and humble friend.
And from that day on, Hazel was known as the horse with a heart as shiny as her coat.
She learned that true greatness comes not from bragging but from celebrating others and sharing joy.