The Snail and the Turtle

One upon a time there was a snail named Scott. Scott was crawling across the garden floor one day when he encountered an ant.

"Hello, I'm Scott," Scott said. "What is your name?"

"I'm an ant," the ant said, quickly.

"Where do you live, Mr. Ant?" Scott asked.

"That's Ms. Ant to you," the ant corrected. "I am a worker ant and among worker ants it's just us girls. But for your information, I live in an anthill."

"What's an anthill?" asked Scott.

"An anthill is a place where ants live," Ms. Ant said dryly. "We throw up a mound of dirt and then burrow holes into it. We live there."

"How marvelous," Scott said. "I have no place to live. May I come live there with you?" But the ant had already scurried on her busy way.

A few minutes later, Scott came across a bird. "Well, good morning!" Scott said.

"Good morning," the bird chirped tersely. "Excuse me, but you are stepping on my breakfast."

Scott inched back and was surprised to see a worm underneath him.

"Thank you," the bird said, and pecked it up.

"Mr. Bird," Scott said, "Where do you live?"

The bird looked ever so slightly churlish. "I live in a nest, of course. A nest in a tree!"

"How wonderful," Scott said. "Perhaps you could let me live with you? It seems I have no home. Ants live in anthills and birds live in nests, but I have nowhere to live." But the bird had flapped his wings, and in a twinkle he was gone.

Dejectedly, Scott continued his journey across the garden. At last he spotted a turtle. "Mr. Turtle, good morning," he said sadly.

"Now, young snail, what are you sad about on this fine morning?" the turtle said.

"Oh, all morning I have been slithering about in this garden looking for a place to live. No one will let me live with them. Where do you live, Mr. Turtle?"

"Right here, right here," the turtle said, gesturing towards his shell with his flipper. "Like all turtles, I carry my home on my back. Wherever I go, that is home."

Scott brightened a little. "Perhaps I could live with you?"

The turtle laughed. "Perhaps, and I would not mind living with a fine fellow such as yourself, but there is no need. You carry a shell on your back, just as I do on mine. You can live in your own shell!"

"My goodness," Scott exclaimed, "I have been home all this time! I spent the entire morning searching for my home, and it turns out that I have been there since the beginning."

"Yes," said the turtle, "that is the beauty of being a turtle or a snail. Your home is wherever you are. You just have to realize it."

Moral: Whenever you have a silly question to ask, find someone who is already at home. People at home are usually not in a hurry.