Carlos the crocodile loved his little cove in the Whispering River. It was the perfect spot for sunbathing, and the mud was wonderfully cool on his scaly back. He considered it *his* special place, and he didn’t like anyone else near it. He’d grumble and splash if a playful otter came too close, and he’d give a stern look to any birds that landed on the nearby reeds.
One sunny morning, a family of beavers arrived. They were building a dam a little further up the river, and needed a place to rest and sort their branches. They politely asked Carlos if they could share the edge of his cove for a short while. Carlos puffed up his chest. “This is *my* cove!” he snapped. “Find somewhere else!”
The beavers looked sad, but they didn’t argue. They tried to find another spot, but the riverbank was rocky and uneven. They struggled to stack their branches and looked very tired. Carlos watched them, and a funny feeling started to bubble in his tummy. It wasn’t a hungry feeling; it felt…uncomfortable.
Old Man Tiber, a wise turtle who had seen many seasons, was sunning himself on a log nearby. He slowly blinked at Carlos. “Sometimes, young Carlos,” he said in a gravelly voice, “the best things are better when they’re shared. A little kindness can go a long way.”
Carlos thought about Old Man Tiber’s words. He looked at the struggling beavers again. He imagined how tired *he* would feel if he couldn’t find a good place to rest. The uncomfortable feeling in his tummy grew. Finally, he sighed. “Okay,” he called out to the beavers. “You can share my cove. But please, be careful not to poke me with those branches!”
The beavers’ faces lit up. “Oh, thank you, Carlos!” they chirped. They carefully arranged their branches, making sure to leave plenty of space for Carlos to sunbathe. Soon, they were all working together – the beavers building their dam, and Carlos enjoying the warmth of the sun.
Carlos discovered something amazing. Having the beavers nearby wasn’t so bad at all! They told him funny stories about their dam-building adventures, and he even helped them push a particularly heavy branch into place. He realized that sharing his cove hadn’t made it less special; it had made it *more* fun.
Later that afternoon, a flock of colorful birds landed in the reeds near Carlos and the beavers. Usually, Carlos would have grumbled, but this time, he smiled. “Welcome!” he called out. “There’s plenty of room for everyone.” The birds chirped happily and joined the peaceful scene.
As the sun began to set, Carlos snuggled into the cool mud, surrounded by his new friends. He understood now what Old Man Tiber meant. Sharing his cove hadn’t taken anything away from him; it had given him something much more valuable: friendship and happiness. And that, Carlos thought, was the best feeling of all. He closed his eyes, a happy crocodile, and drifted off to sleep.
From that day on, Carlos’s cove was known as the Friendliest Spot on the Whispering River, and everyone was welcome to share in its joy.