The hare kept running. He knew he was far ahead of the tortoise. He could see the finish line in the distance. He knew with some effort he could win this race in minutes. He had won many races like these in the past. He stopped to take a breath and looked back. The tortoise was nowhere to be seen.

‘What a race!’ thought the hare as he opened his water bottle and took a sip. ‘I am tired of running with tortoises. They are such slow creatures. I will wait in the shade for that slowpoke to catch up.’

The hare sat in the shade and drank some more water. He remembered all the races he had run. His parents had always told him to stay ahead of the tortoise family. ‘Remember son, they are slow but they are very consistent. So always keep running. Never let your guard down. Your speed is the only weapon you have!’

He had heeded the advise and kept ahead of the tortoise family. The hare was shaken out of his reverie by a small noise. He saw the tortoise inching his way slowly to the finish line. The hare knew he could still beat the tortoise. ‘Whats the point of all these races? Why even bother!’ he thought.

The tortoise crossed the finish line and smiled. He remembered his mother’s words. ‘The hare will eventually run out of steam. He has been running too hard and for too long. Have patience! You will win this race one day.’