The Ugly Duckling

It was a bright summer on the farm. The corn was yellow, the oats were green, and the hay was stacked in the meadows. Down by the river, a Mother Duck sat on her nest. “Quack! How long must I sit here?” she sighed. Finally—Crack! Crack! The eggs broke open. One by one, little yellow heads popped out. “Peep! Peep!” they cried. “Quack! Quack! Welcome to the world!” said Mother Duck.

But one big egg still lay in the nest. It was larger than the others and speckled with grey. An old duck came by. “That’s a turkey egg,” she warned. “Leave it.” “I have sat this long, I will sit a little longer,” said Mother Duck. Finally—CRACK! The big egg broke. Out tumbled a strange-looking bird. He was grey, funny-looking, and much bigger than the others. He didn’t say “Peep,” he said “Honk!” “He is immense,” thought Mother Duck. “But he swims well.”

The next day, she took them to the farmyard. “Look at that ugly thing!” clucked a Hen. “Get him away!” hissed a Goose. The poor little grey duckling was Pecked, jeered at, and teased. Even his brothers and sisters were mean. “I wish the cat would catch you, you ugly thing!” they said. The Duckling was heartbroken. “Why am I so different?” he wept. “No one wants me.” That night, he jumped over the fence and ran away.

He came to a great marsh where wild ducks lived. “You are extremely ugly,” they said. “But you can stay if you don’t marry into our family.” He stayed there for two days, lonely and cold. Then, hunting dogs came to the marsh. Bark! Bark! The poor Duckling hid in the reeds, trembling with fear. He tucked his head under his wing and waited. He was so frightened he couldn’t move. When it was quiet, he ran on.

Autumn came. The leaves turned brown and fell. The wind blew cold. One evening, a flock of magnificent birds flew out of the bushes. They were snowy white, with long, graceful necks. They were Swans. “Oh, they are so beautiful,” whispered the Ugly Duckling. “I wish I could go with them.” He watched them fly south until they were just specks in the sky. He felt a strange longing in his heart.

Winter was hard. The pond froze over. The poor Duckling almost froze too. A kind farmer found him and took him home, but the farmer’s children frightened him, so he ran away again. He hid in a badger’s empty hole until spring.

Finally, the sun began to shine warmly again. The larks sang. The Duckling flapped his wings. They felt stronger than before. Whirrr! Suddenly, he found himself flying high over a garden. Below, on a crystal blue pond, swam the three beautiful white swans he had seen before. “I will fly to them,” he decided. “They might chase me away for being ugly, but it is better than being alone.” He coasted down to the water. “Do what you will!” he whispered, bowing his head to the surface. But what did he see in the clear water? He saw his own reflection. He was no longer a clumsy, dark grey bird. He was white. He had a long, curved neck. He had powerful wings. He was a Swan!

The other swans swam around him and stroked him with their beaks. “Welcome, brother!” they said. Some children came to the edge of the pond. “Look! There is a new one!” shouted a little girl. “He is the most beautiful of all!” The young Swan ruffled his feathers. He felt shy but very happy. “I never dreamed of such happiness,” he thought, “when I was the Ugly Duckling.”

Moral of the Story: Do not judge others by their appearance. Beauty lies within, and everyone has their own time to bloom.