The Proud Peacock

Deep in the heart of a lush, green forest, lived a Peacock who was very vain. He was indeed beautiful. His feathers shimmered with electric blue, emerald green, and deep gold. When he spread his tail, it looked like a giant fan made of jewels. Every morning, the Peacock would go to the river to admire his reflection. “Oh, how handsome I am!” he would coo. “My eyes sparkle like stars. My neck is as graceful as a swan’s. There is no bird in the world as magnificent as me.”

He spent his days strutting around the forest clearing. “Look at me! Look at me!” he would call to the other animals. The busy ants ignored him. The squirrels chattered and ran away. The other birds shook their heads. “He is beautiful,” whispered a sparrow, “but he is so annoying.”

One afternoon, the Peacock met a wise old Tortoise resting under a banyan tree. “Hello, old slow ball,” teased the Peacock. “Look at my feathers. Have you ever seen anything so perfect?” The Tortoise opened one eye slowly. “You are very beautiful, Peacock,” he said in a raspy voice. “But tell me, what can you do with those feathers?” “Do?” laughed the Peacock. “I don’t need to ‘do’ anything. I just need to exist and be admired. That is my job.” “I see,” said the Tortoise. “Beauty is nice. But strength and kindness are better. Beauty can fade, but character stays forever.” “Hmph!” snorted the Peacock. “You are just jealous because your shell is brown and bumpy.” And he walked away with his nose in the air.

That evening, the sky turned dark. Thick black clouds rolled in. Thunder rumbled like a drum in the sky. Boom! Rumble! A terrible storm was coming. The little birds flew to their nests. The squirrels hid in the hollows of trees. The Tortoise pulled his head and legs inside his hard, sturdy shell. “You should hide too, Peacock!” called the Tortoise. “The rain will be heavy!” “I don’t need to hide,” said the Peacock foolishly. “I will stand here and let the lightning see my colors.”

But soon, the rain came down in sheets. Swoosh! Splash! The wind howled through the trees. The Peacock tried to run, but his heavy tail feathers, which he was so proud of, became wet and heavy. They dragged in the mud. He couldn’t fly up to a branch because he was weighed down. He shivered in the cold rain, his beautiful colors matted with dirt. He looked miserable. Meanwhile, the Tortoise was warm and dry inside his shell.

The next morning, the sun came out. The forest was fresh and green. The Peacock crawled out from under a bush. He looked like a wet rag. His feathers were messy and dull. The Tortoise poked his head out. “Good morning,” he said kindly. The Peacock hung his head. “Good morning,” he whispered. “You were right. My beauty didn’t save me from the storm. Your ‘ugly’ shell kept you safe.” “Don’t be sad,” said the Tortoise. “Feathers dry. But remember, it is not what you look like on the outside that matters. It is what you are on the inside—and how sensible you are—that truly counts.” The Peacock nodded. From that day on, he was still beautiful, but he was no longer proud. He learned to be a friend first and a beauty second.

Moral of the Story: Beauty is only skin deep. Humility is the true beauty.