The Toad and Her Handsome Son
Long ago, deep within a dark green forest of ivy where cool waters ran in joyful torrents, there lived an old toad. This old toad had a small speckled son whom she would not have traded for all the world and whom she regarded as the light of her eyes. To the other creatures of the forest this little one was an ordinary dweller of the mud; yet in his mother's eyes he was a matchless jewel. The mother toad found her son's rough skin softer than the finest silk, and his large eyes as bright as diamonds. While she sunned herself upon the water lilies, she never tired of praising her child's beauty or of taking pride in him. One spring morning the wise stork, master of the skies, brought a golden olive branch to be given to the most charming and beautiful young one in the forest.
All the forest dwellers began, with great excitement, to prepare their young ones for the parade so that they might win this precious gift. The gazelles, boasting of the gliding step of their fawns, and the peacocks, of the colourful feathers of their offspring, gathered in the square. Our mother toad too, without the slightest hesitation, took her little one by the hand and proudly joined the crowd. When the animals around them saw the toad's confident bearing and her rough skinned little one, they began to snicker quietly among themselves. A haughty peacock stepped forward and mocked her, saying, "Is this muddy little one of yours going to compete with my silken feathered son?" Holding her head high, the mother toad replied, "True beauty is not seen with the eye alone; the light in his eyes is brighter than every feather in the world."
The wise stork examined the young ones one by one, weighing the grace of each, and found it hard to decide. When the stork at last came to the little toad, the young one looked at his mother with loving eyes and smiled with sincerity. The candour that appeared on that small face and the deep love he felt for his mother overshadowed all the pride and display of the forest in an instant. The wise stork, perceiving this artless beauty that flowed from the heart, laid the golden olive branch before the little toad. The crowd in the square, understanding this true grace beyond outward appearance, bowed silently in respect before the decision. For when one looks with a mother's heart, every child touched by tenderness becomes the most beautiful being in the universe. To the raven, its own chick appears a phoenix.