The Ugly Duckling

Beside a farm pond, Mother Duck watched her eggs. Crack, crack, crack! Three little ducklings popped out. One big egg was still quiet.

At last it cracked too. Out stepped a fluffy bird with gray down and very big feet. He blinked at the bright sky.

“You took your time,” Mother Duck said gently. She made room beside the other little birds.

The new arrival tried his feet. Wobble, wobble! He did not look quite like the others, but he was ready to discover the pond.

In the water, the little bird paddled and splashed. His feet were good at swimming, even if they looked very big.

“Your feet are funny!” one duckling laughed. The little bird lowered his head. Those words hurt.

Mother Duck came close. “That was unkind,” she said. “We can make room for everyone.”

She stayed beside him. Still, he felt different and lonely. He wondered whether there was somewhere he would feel at home.

Summer passed, and leaves began to fall. The young bird followed the water to a larger pond.

A duck beside the reeds noticed that he looked sad. “Come and sit with me,” she said. She listened while he told her about the hurtful words.

Two birds flew overhead, with long necks and wide wings. “Those are swans,” his new friend said. He watched them until they disappeared.

Then the duck showed him a sheltered place beneath the willow. “There is room for you here.” He settled beside her and gave a little sigh.

Soon snow settled beside the pond. Beneath the willow, the two friends found a dry nest, tucked among the reeds.

When the wind blew, they rested together in their sheltered place. The little bird no longer had to spend the cold days alone.

Day after day, he grew. His wings became broader, his neck became longer and new feathers appeared.

At last, a soft drop fell from a snowy branch. Drip! Beyond the shelter, the world was beginning to wake.

Spring brought new leaves to the willow. The young bird walked to the still water and bent his long neck.

A swan looked back at him. When he tilted his head, the swan did too. It was his own reflection!

He looked at his broad wings and white feathers. “I am a swan,” he whispered. He had been a swan all along, even when he was small and gray.

Two other swans glided closer. He lifted his head. Perhaps he could say hello.

“May I swim with you?” he asked. “Of course,” the swans answered, moving aside to make room.

His old friend, the duck from the reeds, paddled near. “Come with us!” he called. There was room for a duck among the swans too.

They floated past the water lilies together. He remembered the friend who had welcomed him before he knew he was a swan.

His feathers had changed, but he had always deserved kindness. Now he knew how lovely it felt when someone said, “There is a place for you.”