Rara the Magpie and the Shiny Sticker

Rara is a sleek, bright-eyed magpie with glossy black-and-white feathers and a weakness for anything that GLITTERS. And in Cratey’s meadow, one crate glitters more than all the rest. It has a big sparkly sticker on the front that says, in shiny letters: “RARE!”

Oh, how Rara wants that crate. “RARE!” she caws, hopping from foot to foot. “It must be the BEST one! The most special! I have to have it!” She looks right past all the friendly everyday crates - the ones full of good red buttons and cheerful blue ribbons that pop open easily every single time - and stares only at the glittery “RARE!” lid.

But here is the honest thing Oddo the owl reads on that lid: the rare prize inside comes only once in a long, long, long while. Rara opens the RARE crate. Nothing. She opens it again. Nothing. Again. Still nothing but a common red button, same as the everyday crates give freely.

Rara’s shoulders droop. “But it says RARE,” she says quietly. “I thought rare meant… better.”

Cratey the hamster ambles over, kind as ever. “Ah, Rara,” he says gently. “Rare does not mean better. Rare just means it comes hardly ever. That shiny sticker is only a sticker. And look” - he nudges a common red button toward her - “this everyday prize is a lovely thing. Smooth, and bright, and it comes to you EVERY time. No long, sad waiting.”

Rara turns the red button in her claw. It IS pretty. It is warm from the sun. And it came to her right away, no glumness, no chasing.

That is the idea Rara learns.

Rare means seldom, not better - and the everyday prize is just as good, and it is already here.

A grown-up can play too! Put a plain sticker that says “RARE” on one box, and leave a friendly box next to it with no sticker at all - but make sure the friendly box gives a happy little prize every time. Chase the “RARE” box a while together (mostly nothing!). Then open the friendly one and cheer its everyday treat. Talk about it: the sticker was just a sticker. The sure, everyday good thing felt best.

When Rara finally sets down the glittery crate and hops over to play with a whole pile of cheerful everyday buttons, a light, happy calm settles over her - the relief of stopping the endless chase. “Rare is only seldom,” she says, almost laughing at herself. “It is not a crown. And I have SO many good things right here, right now.”

And she preens her glossy feathers, content at last, in the warm and ordinary sun.