One night two moles received a surprise. It had rained and rained and rained for days above ground and their home deep in the earth was beginning to leak.
The younger mole sighed over the situation but knew there was nothing they could do about it. It was too late and too rainy to try and fix anything. Instead, he sought the dryest spot in the house and resolved to go to sleep.
Shocked, the older mole asked, “Do you not care that our home is leaking?”
“Of course I care,” the young mole replied with a yawn that made his pink nose wiggle. “I just don’t see that we can do anything until the rain stops.”
While the older mole knew this to be true, he simply couldn’t relax. The steady drip, drip, drip of water in his own home was too much to bear. “We have to do something,” he insisted.
“What do you suggest?” the younger mole asked, though he sounded like he was nearly asleep and not really listening for an answer.
The older mole had no idea. He took to pacing back and forth across his hole. Here and there he stepped in a puddle, shook his food off and kept pacing. At one point he shook droplets off on his friend by accident, waking him up from his soft dreams of dirt and worms and roots.
“Are you still up worrying?” asked the young mole with one eye open.
“Of course,” the older mole said with a cranky tone.
“Is it doing you any good?” asked the young mole as he rolled over to make himself comfortable again.
The older mole said nothing because it wasn’t doing him any good and he wasn’t about to admit that.
“You’d best get to bed,” the young mole advised. “We will have work enough to do in the morning.”
“You might be able to sleep as our home is drowned but I cannot,” the older mole huffed.
The younger mole laughed teasingly but went back to sleep. He wasn’t about to stay up to listen about things he could do nothing about.
Just as the older mole began to contemplate waking his friend and ask him how he couldn’t care about their home, he stepped in a puddle and WHOOP! He slipped.
Down the old mole fell, bumping his head on a stone near the edge of his hole. Tired and in pain, the old mole curled up in a slightly damp corner of the hole and grumbled himself to sleep in the wee hours of the morning.
Late into the morning, the young mole checked on his friend. He found that the old mole not only hadn’t slept well and had a terrible knot on his head but had got a cold for all his worrying about in the damp parts of their hole.
“You should have slept like me,” the young mole said with a shake of his head. “The rains have stopped and there are so many good worms and roots to eat thanks to all that water soaking things up. You will miss it for all your worrying.”
Nothing is gained from worrying about tomorrow.
Ósviðr maðr vakir um allar nætr
ok hyggr at hvívetna;
þá er móðr, er at morgni kemr,
allt er víl sem var.
A foolish man
is all night awake,
pondering over everything;
he than grows tired;
and when morning comes,
all is lament as before.
The old man is snoring
He bumped his head and went to bed
and couldn’t get up in the morning.
~Mother Goose nursery rhyme
Inspiration and Further Reading
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