The Ugly Duckling

On a warm summer day, a mother duck sat on her nest by the pond. She had been waiting a long time. At last, tap-tap-tap! One by one, the eggs cracked. “Peep, peep!” Soft yellow ducklings tumbled out. The biggest egg lay still. “This one is taking its time,” said Mother Duck, and she kept it warm. At last, the big egg broke open. Out came a large gray chick.

“Goodness,” said Mother Duck. “He’s not like the others. But he is my child.” She took them to the farmyard. The other animals stared. “What a funny, ugly duckling,” clucked a hen. The ducks pecked him. “Go away!” quacked a drake. The poor duckling hung his head.

He tried to play, but every day someone pushed him aside. Even his brothers and sisters teased him. Finally, he ran to the pond and swam away.

He met wild ducks and geese on the marsh. “Who are you?” they asked. “I don’t know,” said the duckling. “Please let me rest.” “You are too ugly for us,” they said. “But you may stay if you keep out of the way.”

Suddenly—bang! bang!—hunters came to the marsh with dogs. Feathers filled the air. The duckling hid among reeds. A big dog ran up, sniffed him, and turned away. “Even the dog thinks I’m too ugly,” he whispered, and he stayed very still until the marsh grew quiet.

When the sun set, he crept to a little cottage. An old woman lived there with a cat and a hen. “A duck!” the woman cried. “If it lays eggs, we will keep it.” The cat purred. The hen clucked. “Can you purr?” asked the cat. “Can you lay eggs?” asked the hen. “No,” said the duckling softly. “Then you are no use to us,” they said. The duckling longed for cool water and open sky, so he slipped out the door.

Autumn came. The leaves turned gold and red. One evening, he saw great white birds flying above him. They were swans. They were so beautiful that his heart ached. “If only I could be near them,” he sighed. But they flew away.

Winter arrived, hard and cold. The duckling swam in a pond until the ice closed around him. He could hardly move. In the morning, a farmer found him, broke the ice, and carried him home. The warm kitchen scared the duckling. He fluttered into the milk, splashed butter, and scattered flour. The woman waved a broom. Children shouted. The duckling slipped out the door and hid in the snow.

The winter was long and lonely. He learned to bend when the wind blew and to wait for better days.

At last, spring tiptoed back. The sun grew warm, and the willows turned green. The duckling spread his wings. They were strong now. He flew to a clear pond where three swans floated like clouds.

“I will go to them,” he thought. “They will peck me to pieces because I am so ugly. I do not care. It is better to be near such beauty for a moment than to live alone forever.”

He glided across the water and bowed his head. But in the water he saw a reflection—not a gray, clumsy bird, but a swan with a long, graceful neck and shining white feathers.

“What do I see?” he cried. “Is that me?”

The swans circled him gently. “Come with us,” they sang. Children came to the shore. “Look!” they shouted. “A new swan! The most beautiful of all!”

The young swan tucked his head under his wing, happy and shy. He remembered the hard days, the cold nights, and the unkind words. Now he knew: he had never been ugly. He had only been young and different. He lifted his head and sailed into the bright spring with his new friends.