A parable from the Dreamtime

I took my turn on the parental supervisor’s rota at the Wee ‘Un’s playgroup today and, as usual, was in great demand at story time.

What the children love is that I don’t read from a book in a quiet and dignified manner (as most of the other adults seem to feel is appropriate).

Instead, I tell them a story, get them to join in with sounds and actions, and we romp about the hall as the tale plays out.

Today’s stories were “The Greedy Frog” and “Fionn mac Cumhaill and the Gray Dog”.

I’ll keep Fionn’s story for another day, but the tale of the frog seems quite appropriate to repeat here given my recent posts on resisting consumerism and over-consumption.

I first heard the story many years ago from Peter C., a friend who was very proud of his Aboriginal heritage and the stories he’d learned from his grandfather. Thanks, Pete, I hope I do the story justice.

And if anyone reading this wants to tell it to children - make sure you do plenty of sounds and actions. It really does make a difference.

I come from Australia, a land that’s far, far away across the seas and oceans. It can be a very dry country, so dry that there’s no water in the rivers, no water in the streams and no rain in the skies

All the trees and plants turn brown, the ground turns to dust and all the people and animals go thirsty.

But, a friend of mine, who’s one of the people called Aborigines, told me a story about long, long ago when Australia had lots of water, when the streams gurgled, the rivers gushed and rain fell from the sky every few days.

This was in the Dreamtime, which was so long ago that the few people who lived in Australia had never seen people like you with white skins, had never heard of ships, cars and planes, and instead of watching TV sat around telling stories like the one I’m telling you.

Back in the Dreamtime, everyone was happy for a time as the grass was green, the trees were strong, there was water and food for all the animals.

One day, a terrible drought struck. A drought is when all the water drives up and no rain falls from the sky for days and days and days – for so long that you could be four years old and not know what rain looks like, feels like and smells like.

The drought was so bad that the leaves of the trees turned brown and fell off the branches, the flowers drooped and died, and the grass withered as if volcano spirits had blown upon them with a breath of fire.

The winds blew hot and strong, ratting through the dead reeds in the billabongs and the desert sands were so hot you couldn’t walk upon them.

There were no clouds left in the sky, the harsh golden sun glared down upon the empty, stoney river beds, and the only darkness was not the cool refreshing night of sleep but the creeping shadow of death.

Many, many animals died in the great drought and eventually the remain animals called a great council.

The red kangaroos came from the great plains, the tree kangaroos came from the rain forests, the great goannas came in from the spinifex, the koalas came down from the eucalypt forests, the platypus came from their riverbank holes, and even the constantly arguing dingos came down from the hills.

As they traveled to the meeting place in central Australia, all the animals looked to see what made the drought happen but none of them found a single clue.

They were sitting around the campfire deciding what to do when a carpet snake slithered into the camp. He was very late for the Great Council as, without legs, he couldn’t travel very fast.

Carpet Snake may not have been fast, but by traveling slowly he saw more, heard more and understood more than the much faster animals.

He told them he had found an enormous Frog that was taller than a gum tree, wider than a billabong and it had drunk all the water.

Frog had started with a little thirst, but the more he drank, the more he wanted to drink.

He’d drunk the creeks dry, then the rivers, then all the billabongs and waterholes, and finally he’d drunk the entire inland sea dry – leaving nothing by gleaming salt.

The animals were shocked by this as they’d never heard of such a greedy creature before and, after a lot of talking around the campfire, they decided the only way to get the water back was by making the frog laugh.

Deciding who should make Frog laugh was easy – Kookaburra always laughed longest and loudest from his perch in the great gum tree.

With Carpet Snake and Kookaburra leading the way, the animals traveled to where the frog sat in the middle of the great inland sea. It was a hot and dangerous journey along the dried up rivers and across the great salt flats, but eventually they found Frog.

The animals then sat in a vast circle with Frog in the center.

It was so important that the butcher bird and the snake sat next to each other, the echidna forgot to curl into a ball when he saw the dingo, the wedge-tailed eagle let a baby possum sit on his shoulders between his wings, the dingos stopped squabbling with each other and the bell bird forgot to chime.

Kookaburra looked in vain for a tree to sit on, but as this was the great inland sea – even if it was dry – there were none to be seen.

So he seated himself on a large boulder and, with a twinkle in his eye, a ruffle of his feathers and a shake of his head, began to laugh.

He started with a little gurgle in his throat, as if he was chucklng to himself, but he kept raising his voice and laughing louder and louder until the whole world shook and echoed with his laughter.

The other animals couldn’t help smiling but not Frog. Frog just looked at Kooburra, blinked his eyes twice and burped loudly. Then he went back to looking stupid as only frogs can do.

Kookaburra fell down in a heap, entirely laughed out.

Frill Neck Lizard said he would try, and marched up and down with his frill spread wide, his jaws gaping wide and his tongue flicking out. Frog didn’t even blink this time.

Brolga came next with her marvelous dance, then two Bandicoots raced out and started slapping each other, then followed Black Snake who told terrible jokes.

None of them worked and Frog just sat there, still looking stupid.

The animals were very worried. Nothing was making Frog laugh.

Then, Wedge-tailed Eagle felt a sharp tug and looked down to see a tiny hopping mouse run off a feather.

He was about to snap the cheeky mouse up, when wise Boobook Owl calmly shook his head and said “Wait”.

Little Hopping Mouse jumped and skipped over to Frog and began tickling its tummy with the feather.

He worked his way along to where the frog’s tummy joined his leg and began to tickle faster.

Suddenly, Frog opened his eyes, his enormous body began to quiver, and then he started to laugh. His laugh was so deep and so loud that it sounded like thunder.

Then whoosh! The water vomited from his mouth in a flood, filling the deepest rivers and lakes, and covering the land.

The animals sitting around Frog were swept away with the lucky ones swimming or flying to safety. Boobook Owl picked up Hopping Mouse, saying “Just this once I won’t eat you”, while Carpet Snake found a floating tree to wrap himself around.

But many of the animals were drowned. Those that were left were very sad because they were scattered all over the land and couldn’t find their friends or their homes again.

Eventually, the water ran off the land and back to where it belonged in the creeks, rivers, billabongs and lakes, but the Great Inland Sea was never the same again.

With the return of the water, the clouds reappeared and shaded the harsh sun, the leaves and grass grew back thick and green, and the wind now whispered sweetly through the lush river reeds.

Then a vast rainbow spread across the sky and all the birds burst into song to celebrate the return of the good times.

But the little Hopping Mouse still keeps his feather tucked away because he knows that the greedy Frog cannot help himself and will start drinking again soon…