Sweep and the Night No One Else Could Clear

Sweep cleared the path for everyone, every day. Villagers passed by and never looked down. In the window, shiny new brooms shone bright.

Sweep swept extra hard, hoping someone would notice. Still no one looked, and his bristles frayed. No one ever thanked the little tired broom.

Sweep leaned quiet in a forgotten corner. Then a heavy snow buried the whole lane. The shiny new brooms could not budge it.

One snowy night, only Sweep cleared the way. Sweep pushed through drifts, clearing step by step. Villagers stepped outside onto the clear stone path.

Now the whole village cheers the little broom.