Jack and Jill

Jack and Jill

Jack and Jill went up the hill, To fetch a pail of water, Jack fell down, and broke his crown, And Jill came tumbling after. But wait! A gentle voice filled the air, A wise old crow with feathers so fair. "Don't fret, little ones," he cawed with a grin, "Let me help you mend Jack's broken skin." With a twig in his beak and a leaf soft and green, He pressed them with care on the bump that was seen. Jill wiped away tears, her worry subdued, As the crow's gentle touch worked its magic, it seemed. "Now," said the crow, with a wisdom-filled eye, "Perhaps a new bucket you two should try? One strong and sturdy, with a rope nice and long, To fetch all the water, and right any wrong." Off they trotted, the bucket held tight, Jack and Jill walking, bathed in sunlight. The well at the top, a crystal-clear gleam, Reflected their faces, a joyful dream. Up went the bucket, filled to the brim, No stumbles or tumbles, a triumphant hymn. Jack and Jill laughed, with spirits so high, Thankful for the crow and his wisdom so nigh. Back down the hill they skipped hand in hand, A lesson well learned, in this helping land. For kindness and friendship, a treasure untold, More precious than water, or silver or gold.