In a vibrant meadow, lived a flamboyant Peacock named Bartholomew. His feathers shimmered with every color imaginable, his tail a dazzling display when fanned out. He strutted about, preening and boasting to anyone who would listen.
One day, a humble Nightingale settled in a nearby bush. Her feathers were a simple brown, yet her song filled the meadow with a melody so sweet and pure, it stopped the wind in its tracks. The other animals, tired of Bartholomew's arrogance, were captivated. They gathered around the Nightingale, entranced by her beautiful voice.
Bartholomew, furious at being ignored, approached the Nightingale. "Your voice may be pleasant," he scoffed, "but look at you! A drab little bird. No one cares about a plain Jane when there's magnificent plumage like mine to behold!"
The Nightingale continued to sing, unfazed. A wise old Owl hooted from a nearby branch, "True beauty, Bartholomew, lies not in outward appearance, but in the gifts you possess. Your feathers may be dazzling, but the Nightingale's song touches the soul."
Bartholomew scoffed again, but the Owl's words lingered. He watched as the other animals, inspired by the Nightingale's song, danced and sang together. Shamefaced, he realized outward beauty paled in comparison to the joy his talents could bring.
From that day on, Bartholomew used his vibrant feathers to attract attention, then stepped aside to allow the Nightingale's song to truly shine. Together, their combined beauty filled the meadow with both dazzling spectacle and heartwarming melody.
Moral of the Story: True beauty lies not just in appearance, but in how you use your talents to bring joy to others.
About the Creator
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Contemplating the vastness of existence often leads us to ponder the enigmatic question: did we exist before our birth? This query, shrouded in existential intrigue, transcends mere philosophical musings, delving into the very essence of our being. As sentient beings traversing the labyrinth of life, we grapple with the inevitability of our mortality, confronting the stark reality that one day, we shall all succumb to the inexorable embrace of death.
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There is a Thin Line Between Tears of Sorrow and Tears of Joy
I remember when my mother passed away. After the tears from the initial shock, our family sat in the living room and shared memories. We talked about her love and compassion toward others, the lessons she taught us about honesty, and how she taught us the importance of respecting ourselves and others. Then we started sharing memories that made us smile and eventually, each of us began to relax and tell stories that made us laugh.
By Brenda Mahler7 days ago in Humor
Comments (1)
Love it. The owl is the wisdom of the land.