The Frog Who Learned to Fly

In a sunny pond at the edge of Willowbrook Woods, there lived a little green frog named Zoe. She had the biggest, brightest eyes you ever did see, and spots on her back that looked like tiny golden stars.

Zoe loved her pond very much. She loved splashing in the cool water, sitting on lily pads, and catching fireflies at dusk. But there was something Zoe wanted more than anything else in the whole wide world.

Zoe wanted to fly.

Every morning, she watched the butterflies dance through the air like floating flowers. Every afternoon, she saw the bluebirds swooping and soaring above the cattails. And every evening, she gazed at the dragonflies zipping this way and that, their wings shimmering like tiny rainbows.

“If only I could fly,” Zoe sighed, “I could see what’s beyond the woods. I could touch the clouds. I could race the wind!”

Her friend Oliver the turtle heard her sighing. “But Zoe,” he said wisely, adjusting his shell, “frogs don’t fly. Frogs hop and swim. That’s what makes frogs wonderful!”

“I know,” said Zoe. “But I want to try anyway.”

So Zoe began to practice. First, she climbed to the top of the tallest cattail in the pond. She closed her eyes, spread her arms wide, and jumped!

SPLASH!

She landed right back in the water.

“Ribbiting radishes!” she giggled, shaking water from her eyes. “That didn’t work.”

The next day, Zoe tried something different. She found the biggest leaf she could carry and held it over her head like an umbrella. Maybe it would work like a parachute! She climbed up a rock, held the leaf tight, and jumped!

PLOP!

Down she went, and the leaf landed right on top of her head like a silly green hat.

“Hmm,” said Zoe, thinking hard. “I need help.”

She hopped over to visit Beatrice the butterfly, who was resting on a daisy.

“Beatrice,” said Zoe, “could you teach me to fly?”

Beatrice fluttered her beautiful orange and black wings. “Oh, Zoe! I would love to help, but my wings are very different from your legs. I’m not sure it would work the same way.”

Next, Zoe visited Cardinal Carl, who was perched in a willow tree.

“Cardinal Carl,” called Zoe, “could you teach me to fly?”

Carl ruffled his bright red feathers. “Well, little friend, flying takes hollow bones and feathers. But you’re very determined! Have you tried asking the dragonflies? They’re the best flyers I know.”

So Zoe hopped to the edge of the pond where Delilah the dragonfly was practicing loops in the air.

“Delilah!” shouted Zoe. “Please teach me to fly!”

Delilah zoomed down and hovered right in front of Zoe’s nose. Her wings moved so fast they were just a blur.

“Flying isn’t about wings, little Zoe,” said Delilah mysteriously. “It’s about believing in what makes YOU special. What can you do that nobody else can?”

Zoe sat down on a smooth stone to think. What could she do?

She could hop really, really far—farther than any other frog in the pond. She could jump from lily pad to lily pad without falling in. She had the strongest legs of any frog she knew!

And then… Zoe had an idea. An absolutely wonderful, magnificent, spectacular idea!

The next morning, all the pond animals gathered to watch. Oliver the turtle, Beatrice the butterfly, Cardinal Carl, and Delilah the dragonfly all came to see what Zoe was planning.

Zoe hopped to the far end of the pond. She took a deep breath. She bent her strong legs, wiggled her toes, and focused on the longest lily pad path she’d ever tried.

Then she JUMPED!

She sprang from the bank to the first lily pad—BOING!

Then to the second—BOING!

Then the third—BOING!

Each jump took her higher and higher. She leaped so high and so far that for a moment—just a wonderful, magical moment—she was soaring through the air! The wind rushed past her face. The sun warmed her back. She could see over the cattails, across the pond, and into the woods beyond!

She wasn’t flying like a bird or a butterfly or a dragonfly.

She was flying like a frog—the only way she could.

When Zoe finally landed on the last lily pad, all her friends cheered!

“You did it!” chirped Beatrice.

“Magnificent!” cawed Cardinal Carl.

“I told you it was about being YOU!” buzzed Delilah, doing a loop-de-loop.

Even Oliver clapped his flippers together. “That was amazing, Zoe!”

Zoe’s heart felt like it might burst with happiness. She hadn’t grown wings, but she had learned something even better. She had learned that flying doesn’t always mean having feathers or wings. Sometimes flying means using your own special gifts in your own special way.

From that day on, whenever Zoe wanted to fly, she would leap from lily pad to lily pad, soaring higher and farther than any frog had ever jumped before. And on quiet evenings, if you visited the pond at Willowbrook Woods, you might see a little green frog with golden spots, launching herself into the air with the biggest smile you ever did see.

Because Zoe had learned the most important lesson of all: You don’t need to be like everyone else to do extraordinary things. You just need to be exactly, perfectly, wonderfully YOU.

The End

Sweet dreams, little one. May you always remember that you’re special just the way you are.

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