In the Disney version of Aesop’s fable of the ants and the grasshopper that I listened to on vinyl as a kid, the grasshopper dances and plays his fiddle all summer while the ants gather food in preparation for the coming winter. They warn the grasshopper to do the same. He says he’s just going to enjoy the abundance of the season. The future will take care of itself. He sings, “Oh the world owes me a livin’.”
When winter hits, the wind blows, the grasshopper is starving and his teeth are chattering. He has no shelter or food. His fingers are too frozen to play his fiddle. He trudges through the snow to the ants’ house and knocks on their door.
This was always a big moment of suspense for me as a little girl. Would the ants be self righteous and punishing? Or would they be compassionate and loving?
To my relief each time I listened to the record, the ants let the grasshopper in where they were partying and feasting in their warm home. They didn’t even say “I told you so,” too much. For his part, he recognized that he it was wise to do some winter preparation during the summer.
I understood the lesson I was supposed to take from this fable. Before you party: Work and plan ahead. Be responsible. Don’t goof off and just have fun in the present moment. Delayed gratification pays off. The ants partied together all winter.
Somehow I knew even as a preschooler, that I was a grasshopper at heart. Maybe if they had left the grasshopper to suffer, I would have taken that lesson more to heart.
Perhaps, the grasshopper and the ants could have come a collaborative arrangement. The grasshopper could have played his fiddle to ease their load and lighten their hearts so they weren’t so grim while they worked. Then he could join them in winter, making their parties even more joyous.
Collaboration offers a possibility that each of us can draw on our unique gifts for the benefit of the wider community, rather than struggle to be what we’re not.