A short moral story for kids about listening, patience, and finding your own answers.
In the middle of a quiet meadow stood an old tree named Whistle. He wasn’t the tallest or the greenest, but he had been there the longest. His branches bent like arms, and when the wind passed through his leaves, it sounded like a soft whisper. That’s how he got his name.
Every week, children from the village would come and play around him. But one curious boy named Arun didn’t just play — he would sit beneath Whistle with a puzzled look on his face.
“Why do people argue so much?” he asked one day.
Whistle said nothing. Just rustled a little.
Another day, Arun came back and asked, “Why does my friend tease me when I try to do the right thing?”
Again, Whistle was silent. Only the wind replied.
Arun kept returning — not always with questions. Sometimes, he just sat quietly, his back against Whistle’s rough bark. Days passed. Then weeks.
One afternoon, after helping a younger child who had fallen, Arun sat under the tree and smiled.
“You never answered my questions,” he said aloud.
A breeze rustled the leaves gently above.
“But I think I found my answers anyway… just sitting here. Maybe I just needed time.”
Whistle creaked softly, like a chuckle carried by the wind.
🌟 Moral of the Story:
Sometimes, the answers you seek won’t come from others — they grow quietly within you. All you need is patience, space, and stillness to hear them.