The Hen, the Chicks and the Kite
Once upon a time, in a quiet farmyard where yellow ivy wound around the walls, there lived a tender hen who watched over her young with the greatest care. This motherly hen kept her soft-feathered chicks from all danger, and every evening she told them tales and lulled them into sweet sleep. On the summit of the high cliffs, meanwhile, a kite had built his nest: the proud dweller of the sky, keen-eyed and predatory. Between them there was a right of neighbourliness, and when they were in need they never hesitated to knock at each other's door. One day the hen decided to sew warm clothes for her chicks for the winter days that were drawing near. Since she had no strong needle with which to sew, she went to her neighbour the kite, who glided in the sky, and asked for help. As the kite held out to the hen the glittering silver needle he had taken from his chest, he warned her carefully.
"This needle is an inheritance from my ancestors; you must guard it with the greatest care and bring it back as soon as your work is done," he said. The hen promised, took the road to the coop with cheer, and set to work sewing colourful clothes for her little ones. But towards evening, just as she was making the last stitch, the silver needle slipped from her hand out of weariness and vanished among the grasses. In great haste the hen began to scratch the ground, but until darkness fell she could find no track of the needle. The next morning the kite appeared at the door, and when he asked for his inheritance back, the hen was forced to confess the truth with bashfulness. Blind with rage, the kite roared, "You could not keep what was entrusted to you, so I shall take your chicks until you find my needle." Flapping his wings, the kite rose into the air, narrowed his eyes and at once coveted the young of the helpless hen.
From that day on the motherly hen never gave up scratching the ground, night and day, in the hope of finding the needle she had lost. With every scratching she searched the soil bit by bit, and to protect her young she hid them under her wings while she scanned the sky. The kite, meanwhile, gliding among the clouds, fixed his eyes below and watched for a chance to collect the price of what he had lost. Thus the friendship between the two old neighbours gave way to an endless chase and an inexhaustible regret. And so the bonds of friendship were broken, and in the farmyard a relentless chase began that would last forever. To cast a shadow upon what is entrusted to you drags even the firmest friendships into an irreversible hostility. There must be no betrayal of a trust.