The Little Cloud's Rain

In the sky there lived a little cloud. The other clouds poured down rain, flashed lightning and filled the sky with noise. The little cloud had never rained. It was shy. "What if I rain in the wrong place? What if nobody wants it? What if one tiny drop falls and everyone laughs?"

One summer there was a long drought. The big clouds had gone to other countries. The fields turned yellow, and the stream dried up. As the little cloud passed over a field, it saw a single flower below. A yellow daisy; its head bowed, its petals wrinkled.

The daisy whispered: "Cloud... one drop."

The little cloud stopped. It looked to the right and to the left; nobody was there. It took a deep breath. It closed its eyes. And... tick. One drop fell. Right onto the daisy.

The daisy lifted its head.

Tick, tick. Two more drops. The daisy's petals opened.

The little cloud grew bolder. Tick tick tick tick... A soft, fine, quiet rain. No noise, no lightning. Just tick tick tick. The field got wet, the earth smelled sweet, the stream murmured again. The daisy stood up straight and smiled.

The more the little cloud rained, the smaller it got. In the end only a tiny scrap of cotton was left. But it had never felt so big.

The next morning a hundred daisies had opened in the field.

The little cloud will grow again; water vapor rises to the sky and becomes a cloud, that is how it works. But it was no longer shy. Because it had learned that even the smallest rain is enough for someone.

Listen at the window. Tick, tick, tick... Perhaps that is it.