The Ugly Duckling

On a warm summer day, a mother duck sat on her nest by the river, waiting for her eggs to hatch. One by one the shells cracked open, and little ducklings popped out crying, "Peep, peep!"

"Quack, quack!" said the mother, and the babies quacked back.

But one egg was still sitting there. It was the biggest egg of all.

An old duck waddled over to visit. "That big egg is probably a turkey egg," she said. "Leave it and teach the others to swim."

"I'll sit a little longer," said the mother duck. And she did.

At last the big egg cracked open. Out crawled a baby bird. He was very large. He looked nothing like the others.

"Is he a turkey?" the mother wondered. She took all her babies down to the water and jumped in. One by one the ducklings jumped in too. And the big ugly one jumped in as well. He swam beautifully, kicking his legs and holding his head up straight.

"He's not a turkey after all," said the mother, feeling proud. "He swims so well! He is my own child. Come along, everyone. I'll take you to the farmyard."

At the farmyard, the trouble began. The other ducks stared at the big ugly duckling. One flew over and bit him on the neck.

"Leave him alone!" said his mother. "He is not doing any harm."

"He is too big and ugly," said the spiteful duck. "He does not belong here."

Every day it got worse. The ducks pecked him. The chickens chased him. Even his brothers and sisters were mean. "I wish the cat would get you," they said. His own mother said she wished he had never been born. The girl who brought the food kicked him with her foot.

So the ugly duckling ran away.

He flew until he found a big, wild moor. He lay down in the rushes, tired and very sad. The wild ducks who lived there looked at him strangely. "You are very ugly," they said, "but you can stay if you like."

He stayed two days. Then the sound of gunshots rang out. Hunters were all around the moor. Dogs came splashing through the rushes. One huge dog ran right up to the duckling and sniffed him. His teeth were sharp. His eyes were fierce. But then he turned and splashed away without biting.

"Even the dog doesn't want me," the duckling said quietly. "I am too ugly even to bite."

When the hunters left, the duckling ran far away. A storm blew in. At last he found a little old cottage. The door had a broken hinge, and he squeezed through the gap to get out of the cold.

Inside lived an old woman, a tomcat, and a hen. The old woman saw the duckling and thought he might lay eggs, so she let him stay.

But the tomcat and the hen looked down at him.

"Can you lay eggs?" asked the hen.

"No," said the duckling.

"Can you purr?" asked the cat.

"No," said the duckling.

"Then you have nothing useful to say," said the hen.

The duckling sat in the corner and felt very lonely. He told the hen he longed to swim in cool water and dive deep down.

"What a silly idea," said the hen. "You are being foolish."

"You don't understand me," said the duckling.

"I believe I must go out into the world again," he said at last.

"Yes, go," said the hen.

So he left.

Autumn came. The leaves turned gold and fell. The air grew cold. One evening, just as the sun was setting, a flock of the most beautiful birds the duckling had ever seen flew out from the trees. They were white as snow. They had long, graceful necks. They were swans. They spread their great wings and flew away across the sky toward warmer lands.

The duckling watched them go. He stretched his neck up high and let out a strange, loud cry. He didn't even know their name. But he felt something in his heart that he had never felt before. He wanted to be near them. He wanted to be like them.

Winter came. The water began to freeze. The duckling paddled and paddled to keep a small patch of water open. He paddled until he could not paddle anymore. He froze fast in the ice.

In the morning, a farmer walked by and saw him. He broke the ice with his boot and carried the duckling home. The warmth woke the little bird up. But when the children tried to play with him, he was frightened. He flapped around the room, into the milk, into the flour, and out the door. He fell into the snow, worn out.

The cold winter slowly passed.

One morning, spring arrived. The sun felt warm. The birds were singing. The duckling lifted his wings and flew up into the bright sky. Below him, he saw a beautiful garden with apple blossoms and a shining stream. And there on the water were three white swans, swimming gently through the flowers.

The duckling felt the old sadness rise up. He flew down to the water.

"I will swim to them," he said. "They may chase me away, or worse. But that is better than living alone."

He landed and swam toward the swans. They rushed to meet him with their wings spread wide.

"Kill me if you like," he whispered, and he bowed his head to the water.

But then he saw his reflection. And he stopped.

The bird looking back at him was not dark and gray and clumsy. He was white. He had a long, graceful neck. He was a swan.

The swans swam around him and touched his neck gently with their beaks to say welcome.

Children came running to the water's edge. They threw bread and called to their parents. "Look! A new swan! He's the most beautiful of all!"

The young swan tucked his head under his wing, feeling happy and a little shy. He had no wish to be proud. He only felt grateful.

"I never dreamed of such happiness," he said softly, "when I was just the ugly duckling."

It doesn't matter where you start. What matters is who you truly are.