The Wind and the Sun were arguing. They argued from high up in the sky, the way they always argued, about which of them was the stronger.

"I am the stronger," said the Wind. "I bend the trees. I stir the seas. I move whole storms across the ocean."

"I am the stronger," said the Sun. "I warm the fields. I ripen the wheat. I bring the morning."

They could have argued forever. But that morning, they saw a traveler walking on the road below. He was wearing a thick cloak.

"There," said the Wind. "Whichever of us can take the cloak off that man is the stronger. Do you agree?"

"I agree," said the Sun. "You go first."

The Wind blew.

He blew hard. He blew the dust on the road into the air. He blew the leaves off the trees. He blew at the traveler with all the strength in him.

The traveler felt the cold. He pulled his cloak more tightly around his shoulders.

The Wind blew harder. He howled. He raged. He nearly knocked the traveler off the road.

The traveler bent into the wind. He held his cloak with both hands. He did not let go. The harder the Wind blew, the tighter the traveler held on.

At last the Wind, exhausted, gave up.

"Your turn," said the Wind, very tired.

The Sun came out from behind a cloud.

The Sun did not blow. The Sun did not howl. The Sun just shone. He shone gently, on the road, on the trees, on the traveler's shoulders.

The traveler felt the warmth. He kept walking. The Sun shone a little more. The traveler began to feel warm. He kept walking. The Sun shone a little more than that.

The traveler stopped. He took off his cloak. He folded it over his arm. He went on down the road, whistling.

The Sun looked at the Wind. The Wind did not say anything. There was nothing to say.