One hot summer day a thirsty crow was looking for some water to drink. There had been no rain for several weeks and all the puddles and ponds he usually drank from were dried up into jigsaw patterns.
At last he saw a jug standing outside the back door of a house. He poked his head inside. He could smell the water, he could see the water, but he could not reach the water. The jug was tall and even when he put his head right in and jumped off the ground it was still too deep for him.
He stood on the step for a minute.
“Perhaps I could break the top of the jug off with my beak,” he thought.
He tried. Nothing happened.
“Perhaps I could turn the jug on its side to that the water runs out,” he thought.
“Ah,” cawed the crow aloud.” I know what to do.”
The path at the back of the house was covered in small pebbles. The crow hopped off the step and picked a pebble up in his beak. Then he hopped up and dropped the pebble into the jug. Back and forth he went, dropping pebble after pebble into the jug. Gradually the pebbles filled the bottom of the jug and pushed the water higher and higher. At last, after at least a hundred trips up and down the steps, the crow was able to dip his tired beak into cool water and drink his fill.
Where there’s a will there’s a way.