Leo was a young lion with a magnificent mane, even though it was still quite fluffy. He lived on the most beautiful part of the savannah, a sunny hill overlooking a sparkling watering hole. Leo loved his hill. He thought it was *his* hill, and he didn’t like anyone else coming near it. “It’s the best hill!” he’d roar, though it didn’t sound very fierce with his fluffy mane. “And it’s all mine!”
One warm afternoon, a family of meerkats came scurrying up Leo’s hill. They were looking for a safe place to build their burrow. “Excuse me, Mr. Lion,” squeaked the mother meerkat, “would you mind if we dug a little home here? We promise to be very quiet.” Leo puffed out his chest. “No! This is *my* hill! Find somewhere else to live!” The meerkats sadly scurried away.
Next, a flock of colorful weaver birds tried to build their nests in the acacia tree that grew on Leo’s hill. “Please, Mr. Lion,” chirped the oldest weaver bird, “may we build our homes in your tree? It’s the perfect spot!” Leo shook his head. “No! My hill, my tree! Go build your nests somewhere else!” The weaver birds flew off, disappointed.
Leo continued to enjoy his hill, but something felt…empty. He had the best view, the sunniest spot, but he was always alone. He watched the meerkats building their burrow far away, and the weaver birds weaving their nests in a distant tree. They looked like they were having so much fun together.
Old Man Rafiki, a wise baboon who often visited the savannah, noticed Leo’s sadness. He sat beside the young lion and said gently, “Leo, a beautiful view is lovely, but it’s even lovelier when shared. A home is warmer when filled with friends.” Leo frowned. “But…it’s *my* hill.”
Rafiki smiled. “Everything is better when shared, Leo. Imagine the meerkats warning you if danger approaches, or the weaver birds singing you a cheerful song each morning. Sharing doesn’t take away from what you have; it adds to it.”
Leo thought about Rafiki’s words. He realized he hadn’t even *tried* to be friendly. He felt a little ashamed. He raced off to find the meerkats. “Wait!” he called. “Meerkats, I’m sorry! You can build your burrow on my hill. I…I would like that.” The meerkats were surprised but delighted. They quickly began digging, chattering happily.
Then, Leo found the weaver birds. “Weaver birds! Please, come back! You can build your nests in my acacia tree. I’d love to hear your songs.” The weaver birds chirped with joy and immediately began weaving their beautiful nests.
Soon, Leo’s hill wasn’t just *his* hill anymore. It was a bustling, happy place filled with friends. The meerkats warned him when a grumpy rhinoceros wandered too close, and the weaver birds sang him a sweet lullaby every evening. Leo learned that sharing his home didn’t make it less special; it made it even more wonderful. He finally understood what Old Man Rafiki meant. His fluffy mane seemed to shine even brighter, and he roared with happiness, a truly fierce and friendly roar.
As the sun set, painting the savannah in shades of orange and purple, Leo snuggled down on his hill, surrounded by his new friends. He realized that the best view wasn’t just *of* the savannah, but *with* the savannah’s creatures. And that, he thought, was the best feeling of all. Now close your eyes, little one, and dream of sharing and friendship, just like Leo the lion.