In a sleepy little village in India, where stars twinkled like diamonds in the night sky, there lived a tiny yellow rickshaw named Ricky.
Ricky had three wheels, bright red seats, and silver bells that went tring-tring-tring. But Ricky had one problem β he was always in a hurry!
“Zoom-zoom-zoom!” went Ricky down the quiet village road. “I’m the fastest rickshaw ever!”
One peaceful evening, as the sun painted the sky orange and pink, Ricky saw Aunty Sharma’s flower cart by the temple.
“Pretty flowers!” thought Ricky. “I’ll zoom past and ring my bells!”
But Ricky didn’t stop. He didn’t look. He didn’t think.
WHOOOOSH! Ricky rushed past so fast that β OH NO!
Crash-tumble-scatter!
Orange marigolds flew here. Pink roses flew there. Yellow jasmine flowers danced in the air like butterflies.
“My flowers! My temple flowers!” cried Aunty Sharma softly.
Poor Ricky felt terrible. His bells didn’t go tring-tring anymore. They were too sad.
Kind Aunty Sharma wasn’t angry. She sat beside Ricky and said gently, “Little rickshaw, when we rush-rush-rush, we make things all mixed up. When we go slow and steady, everything stays ready.”
Ricky wanted to fix his mistake. This time, he moved slowly… carefully… thoughtfully.
One by one, he helped pick up each flower with his little horn. The village children came to help too.
“Slow and steady,” they sang together. “Slow and steady makes things better.”
Soon all the flowers were back in the cart, even prettier than before.
From that day on, whenever Ricky felt like rushing, he remembered to stop… look… and think.
“Tring-tring,” sang his happy bells. “Slow is the way to go!”
As the moon climbed high in the starry sky, Ricky parked under the big neem tree. The gentle breeze whispered, “Good night, little rickshaw. Sweet dreams.”
And Ricky smiled, closing his headlight eyes, ready for peaceful dreams.
